Chapter Fourteen
Sam was dying. Something in his soul was ripping apart, because no matter how wrong this was, he wanted to sink into Hayley until nothing else existed. He wanted to forget everything—and God he meant everything.
She tasted as sweet as she always looked, and she was pliant in his arms. As though she trusted him to be the anchor she needed.
It hurt. It ached. Everything in the past had been running and hiding from things that hurt and ached, but Hayley was the first thing in all that time that seemed worth it.
She was light. She was hope. She felt like a salvation he knew he couldn’t have and certainly didn’t deserve, but he kissed her anyway. He kept her head cupped in his hand, angling her mouth just where he needed it to be.
He might have expected her to run in the opposite direction. Though he’d had an inclination she might feel some attraction for him, he hadn’t really allowed himself to dwell on that possibility too much. It would have been dangerous.
Of course, this right here was more than dangerous. It was life altering. Because not only had he not given himself like this to someone in years upon years, but even back in those days when he had kissed and slept with anyone he damn well pleased, it had never felt like his soul was involved. It never felt like light or hope or possibility. It had been sex. It had been for the sole purpose of reaching orgasm. The end.
But Hayley . . .
Her long, lean body was pressed to his and he could feel every curve and supple contraction of muscle. She was like one of those spindly aspens that grew in the mountains. They gave you this impression of being skinny and easy to break, but the last thing she was doing under his mouth, pressed up to his body, was breaking.
Even while he felt as though he was. Breaking apart into all these pieces he wouldn’t know how to put back together. And yet he kept going. Kissing her deeper, tasting every texture of her mouth until it became a part of his own. He kept holding her strong back, something like a river stone beneath his fingers.
He had to stop this. He had to end this moment before it took a turn he couldn’t control or he couldn’t take back. Because as much as his hand itched to lift up the shirt she was wearing and see what all of that skin would look like bared to him in the glowing firelight, it would be wrong.
It would be an unconscionable betrayal to the people who had kept him alive when he least wanted to be. It was that memory and understanding that finally cut through the haze of lust and the bright sweetness Hayley offered.
He tensed in an effort to pull away, but Hayley held on to him. Her arm wrapped tight around his shoulder and neck, the other hand still gently brushing against his bearded jaw. Her mouth this soft, tantalizing heat that would blaze its own trail, a whole new one for his life.
He didn’t want that, and when she moved against him, a fluid arch that rubbed her abdomen against his thick, throbbing erection, the blast of need and heat and power shook him down to his bones, rattling everything he thought he’d been doing during his hermitage years.
Despite the physical desire to find release, Sam’s overactive brain wasn’t about to let that happen.
This time when he pulled back, he did it completely. Cleanly. A break from this woman who had all of the tools to undo everything in his life. Including this job and his friendship with Brandon and Will, and maybe even Lilly.
Everything about Hayley’s relationship with Brandon and Will was complicated enough; adding him into the mix would only be disastrous. As much of an asshole he’d been to Brandon and Will, and even Lilly in the past few months, if not years, he couldn’t hurt them like that. He wouldn’t hurt them. That had to be his centering thought. All of his body’s reactions to Hayley had to bend to his will. Because he couldn’t betray the few people in his life who cared about him.
“You don’t have to stop.” She said it breathlessly, her eyes huge and somehow completely gold in the firelight. Her breath came in short puffs, the same way his did, and everything inside of his body begged to reach out and hold her again.
God, he wanted that warmth again, that perfect softness that had felt like . . . like a life he had taken for granted so many years ago. Her in his arms, her mouth under his.
“I do have to stop,” he managed to rasp out. “This can’t happen.” A statement as much to himself as to her.
She frowned, not just frustration but determination in that slim little line between her eyebrows. He had to fight her determination before it had a chance to grow into something he couldn’t fight.
“This can’t happen. That was a line that can’t be crossed again. I don’t know what you were thinking—”
“What I was thinking? What were you thinking?”
He had to brace himself for the impact of his own words. He was going to tell a lie, and he had to make her believe it. Or this would be a circle she kept running in until they both ended up miserable and probably alone.
“I was thinking a woman was kissing me for the first time in a long ass time and I’m not exactly picky after that long.”
She made a sound he couldn’t quite identify. Not a gasp, not a squeak, not even an angry sort of outraged grunt. It was a noise all Hayley’s own.
He couldn’t make out the exact expression on her face because she had backed into the shadows where only licks of fire gave him a glimpse at how her body was held and her mouth was arranged. Closed off, contemplative, all those things that preceded a Hayley attack.
He couldn’t even begin to guess what emotions lived in the depths of her eyes from this distance, and he was glad for it.
But the fact she was hiding in the shadows said a lot. Perhaps everything it needed to.
“You’re a terrible liar, Sam.”
“If that’s what you want to believe, that’s your call. But I’m not kissing you again.”
“That’s exactly why you’re a liar. Because if it didn’t mean anything, if you didn’t feel anything, you could kiss me as many times as you damn well pleased and it wouldn’t matter. But this . . . It matters.”
“You’re too young for me, Hayley.” He tried to muster as much disdain in her name as he possibly could. “I’m not interested in little girls who have no experience in life.”
“Well, this is fun. Is this the part where you tell me all these horrible things and I’m supposed to walk away? Or would you rather run away yourself—you’re awfully good at that. But, please, tell me what’s expected of me. Because I’m still inexperienced. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“You’re not supposed to do anything.” He made his expression flat and his voice cool, which wasn’t at all a hardship. That was how he spoke most of the damn time. That was his life’s work since Abby had died, right? Making everyone hate him. Making sure everyone stayed the fuck away from the bastard with a bad attitude who had killed his damn sister. That was his life. It shouldn’t be hard, and it shouldn’t matter.
But it did, and it was eating him up, and he didn’t know why. Why was she getting to him? Why now?
“You’re just supposed to leave me alone.”
“That’s what everyone does, Sam. They leave you alone. They leave you to your own misery.” She stepped out of those shadows, as he’d known she eventually would. “Someone has to be the one to say no. I won’t disappear and I won’t go away. I can’t make you kiss me back. I can’t make you sleep with me or be romantically interested in me. But I don’t have to walk away. I don’t have to give you your space. I get to choose that part.”
Sam shrugged, fighting to look as disdainful as he possibly could, even though everything in his chest felt like it was caving in. “Then I walk away.” And he did. He forced himself to go into his tent and ignore the fact there was food out there and a fire burning.
Once he was certain she was safely in her tent, he would go out there and clean up the campsite. But for now . . .
For now he couldn’t be anywhere near her and trust himself. So he hid, he ran away, and she could keep standing up, but Hayley didn’t know what life could do to kick you down. She didn’t understand that some people shouldn’t stand up and take what they wanted, no matter how easy it would be to do exactly that.
He hoped she never had to understand.
* * *
Hayley cleaned up the campsite as best she could. She had to use her flashlight to consult her guidebook a few times about the proper way to extinguish a fire and not leave any food traces that might attract bears.
She knew Sam would be out here eventually to make sure she hadn’t made any mistakes. He’d wait until she was safely in her tent, but he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from doing a double check.
She was half tempted to stay out here until he couldn’t take it anymore, but she was tired and she was wrung out. Besides, she didn’t want to stand here anymore, around a dead campfire that seemed all too symbolic.
Because even though the fire was dead, the kiss lived somehow. As though the air shimmered with it and always would.
It wasn’t her first kiss, and yet it seemed to obliterate the memory of every kiss that came before. How could it not? It had been a desperate, hot, needy thing.
Which was just . . . Sam. So much desperation and neediness inside of him that he refused to acknowledge—except in that kiss.
Sam needed her, she knew it. She felt it. She wasn’t going to let him scare her off. She wasn’t going to let his hardness and bullshit send her running. She was standing up. She was growing up.
Satisfied with her work around the campsite, she climbed into her tent. She tried to sleep, but mainly she tossed and turned, catching bits and snatches of sleep when the exhaustion won out.
Eventually, she heard Sam go back out and do a sweep of the campsite. She thought she might’ve heard him say something like damn, and she was going to pretend that meant he was impressed with the work she’d done. He was impressed she’d put out the fire correctly, and cleaned everything up efficiently.
Even mad at him, she wanted to impress him and show him she could do this. She might be a “girl” who hadn’t experienced much in her life, but she was learning. He wouldn’t stand in her way. She wouldn’t let him.
Finally, day broke and Hayley waited as she heard Sam getting up and shuffling around the campsite to make breakfast. At least, she hoped that’s what he was doing, since her stomach was already growling.
When Hayley finally screwed up the courage to step out of her tent, Sam was crouched over a fire much smaller than the one they’d had going last night.
“Coffee’ll be ready in a minute.”
Coffee. Yes, she would be needing a metric ton.
But she decided not to say anything. Instead she studied the man crouched at the fire. He had two mugs sitting on the ground, an old-fashioned coffeepot percolating over the heat.
He expressly did not look at her, and on the rare occasion his eyes even darted close, they were as blank as they ever were. It was almost enough to believe the life she’d seen in them last night was a lie.
Except he’d kissed her like he’d needed it. Like his life had depended on understanding the inside of her mouth. She couldn’t deny that kiss or his strong grip. Sam was a complicated man, with a complicated sadness to him, but he’d come alive when he’d kissed her, and she wouldn’t allow herself to be dissuaded.
Especially when it was so easy to see the strain of exhaustion on his face. There were smudges under his eyes that usually weren’t there, and even his complexion was a little off.
There was a certain animalistic quality to the way he crouched there, as if he was warding off attack. While Sam was usually a very grumpy, intense kind of guy, a grizzly bear hiding away from winter, this was something else altogether. This wasn’t Stay away from me, I want to be alone. This was Stay away from me, or I’ll strike, because I’m the prey and you are the predator.
At least that’s how Hayley decided she was going to read it. Since he didn’t want to talk, she got to read it however she wanted.
Sam was focused on the coffee, so Hayley went to the food bag and began to get out the packets of oatmeal he had brought for breakfast. On the hike yesterday they had discussed a little bit about the food that was acceptable for camping. So far, it and the bathroom situation were the only downfalls to this whole camping and backpacking thing.
But if she ignored the kiss and its aftermath, she’d really enjoyed this experience. She liked it enough that she was more determined than ever to make this her job.
More than that, after the events of last night, Hayley realized she couldn’t keep living the way she had been living. She couldn’t keep operating in the limits of her fear when it came to Brandon and Will, but set it aside when it came to Sam, and even on occasion Lilly.
She couldn’t keep tiptoeing around the edges, not when she was sure this was the life she wanted to have.
She had to face them. She had to start a tentative relationship with them, because no matter how at-home she felt in Gracely, or with Sam, or Lilly, or even Mile High itself, it was never going to feel safe until she did.
Sam and this job had given her something that she’d never had before. Confidence and an idea of what she wanted. She had to face them, as herself. Not hoping they might like her or include her, but in a straightforward way, and if they liked her and accepted her, great. If they didn’t, she would survive. She wouldn’t be their secret. She would simply be . . . Hayley.
She might not always feel like she belonged with Mom and Mack and James, but they loved her. She always had a place to go to be loved if this didn’t work out.
She didn’t think Sam had such a place, and it broke her heart. She thought maybe if he let her in, she could be that place for him.
Which was three hundred kinds of premature, and stupid to think he was ever going to give her that inch she needed.
“Hayley?”
She looked up, startled by Sam’s voice interrupting her thoughts. She’d been so deep in them, so lost in her huge, life-altering realization, she’d forgotten where she was, and what she needed to do first.
“Your coffee.” He held out a mug and she had the feeling he’d been holding it out for a while. Waiting for her to come back to herself. She took the proffered mug and handed him the packets of oatmeal so he could make those as well.
“When we get back, I’m going to talk to Brandon and Will,” she said, because while Sam might pretend not to care, he did. If he didn’t care, that kiss wouldn’t have been the moment it had been for both of them.
Everything in Sam tensed, quite the feat in the tensest man she’d ever met. “Talk to them about what exactly?”
She opened her mouth to tell him, but something about that wide-eyed demand hit her as odd. Then, she got it. He thought she meant about last night. Oh, the self-centered idiot.
She schooled her features as close to innocent as she could manage. “Does it matter what?”
His face went stony and impassive, and she had to tell him the truth. It was bubbling inside of her and she needed to tell someone what the next step was. Sam was her only option, so he was going to have to listen.
“I’m going to have a conversation with them. I’m tired of hiding.” She looked into those piercing blue eyes. “I am tired of not facing it,” she said, pointedly. Pointed directly at him.
“I hope that doesn’t mean you’re going to tell them about . . .”
She rolled her eyes, tempted to reassure him that of course she wouldn’t be telling them about their kiss. But she was grumpy enough to want to mess with him. “About what?”
His eyes narrowed, but she sipped her coffee and looked at him blandly. She wasn’t going to give him an inch.
“I mean, it’s your business if you want to tell them about the kiss or not, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”
“Because they’ll be so mad?” Her tone dripped with sarcasm, but he didn’t seem to pick up on it.
“They won’t be happy. And what’s more, the kiss was a mistake. I think you know that.”
“Do I?”
“You should know it. You should accept it. It was a mistake and that’s all it’s ever going to be. It is a line that I will never, ever cross again. You can tell them whatever the hell you want, but it won’t magically change my mind on this.”
She wanted to punch him. Instead, she smiled. “Sam, if I was going to magically change your mind, I’d use completely different tactics.” She had no idea what kind of tactics, but she liked the sound of that.
Especially when he looked a little bit horrified that she might have tactics that could work on him, totally and utterly against his will. Yes, she liked that a lot.