by Mignon Mykel
“Let’s go inside, okay, Sam?” I said softly, rubbing his back.
He nodded, and pulled me in. The door closed softly behind me, and I walked him to his couch. “Is she... Is she okay?”
I didn’t know why, but his answer, whatever it may be, scared me.
I couldn’t imagine losing my sister. But this reaction...
She was either dead, or critically injured.
One was better than the other, but neither were great.
“She’s... She’s alive,” he managed to say. “But God, Samantha, her injuries...”
I reached over for him and brought him close once again. This time he didn’t cry but he did hold on to me. I vowed to remain quiet until he was ready to talk, much like he’d done for me the other day.
“Medically, as a doctor,” he eventually started, “it’s bad. She took multiple rounds to her abdomen, some piercing her armor. Some missing her armor altogether. Dad said she was transferred to Germany, where she’ll stay for a few weeks before transferring stateside. As long as...” His words trailed off with a croak.
I leaned back and took his face in my hands, pulling him back so he had to look at me. “Listen, Sam Mayson. Did your dad sound hopeful?”
“But as a doctor...”
“Take off your doctor hat and forget your decade or whatever of schooling. How did your dad sound?”
Sam swallowed, and his red rimmed eyes stayed locked on mine. “He sounded solid. I didn’t detect any worry. He was very straight to the point though. He could have been—”
“I don’t know him, but don’t you think that if it were more serious, he would have been straight forward with that too? Knowing you and what you know?”
He was silent for a moment before nodding once. “Yeah. I guess. You’re likely right.”
“Did he say he was going to call again? Another update?”
“My call with him was short.”
“Why don’t you try calling him back? See if you can get more information that will make you, the medical doctor, feel better, so you, the brother, can rest easier?”
I sat beside him and held his hand while he made the call. He put it on speaker phone after saying, “I want to be sure what I’m hearing is what you’re hearing,” and when his dad picked up, Sam surprised me by introducing me.
“I have you on speaker phone. Samantha is here with me.” I could see him struggle with what to introduce me as—surely, his parents had known and welcomed Jacquie into their homes, and perhaps Sam’s moving on was too fast to the outside world.
Before I could worry about it further though, his father answered. “Good. Hello, Samantha. Thank you for being there for my son.”
“Of course,” I managed. “He’s been there for me too.”
Sam and his father discussed more of Bailey’s injuries. She was currently in surgery, and as soon as they received more news, Sam would be the first to know. Amber was already at the house, which left Sam as the only member of the Mayson family who was potentially out of the loop.
“The moment, Sam. We will keep you informed the moment we hear anything more.”
“Does mom want me home? Do you guys need me there?”
“Son, there’s nothing to be done here. We can’t even get to Germany right now, if we wanted to be by her side. Which we do, but...we just can’t. It’s a sit and wait game right now.”
“Okay. And you’ll let—”
I squeezed his hand, just as his dad reiterated it again. “Yes. As soon as we know more, you mom or I will call you. I promise.”
They spoke a little longer and before hanging up, Sam’s dad also bid me good night.
We sat for a moment while Sam processed the call.
“Are you able to call in tomorrow? Are you allowed?” I asked, unsure what protocol was for doctors.
“I can be there.” He avoided looking at me though.
“Sam.” I adjusted in my spot to face him more, my leg folded between us. “Take tomorrow off. It’s Friday.”
He brought his free hand to his face, covering his eyes for a moment before squeezing his nose. “I hate that I can’t do anything for her.”
“It sounds like she’ll be okay. Well, injured and healing, but she’s going to live. Let that be okay for right now.”
After nodding, he sighed and put his head on the back of the couch, closing his eyes and taking, what I assumed to be, a moment for himself.
“Will you stay the night?” he finally asked.
“Absolutely.”
Last night had been tough.
While we headed to bed, neither of us slept until Sam got an update from his father, and even then, I knew that Sam didn’t sleep well.
I knew it, because I hadn’t slept well either.
Sure, earlier I’d managed to push my own issues aside to be there for him, but in the night, when neither of us spoke, the fear of losing my mom came to the forefront of my mind. Throughout the twilight hours, we held onto one another as the night eventually made way to dawn.
Friday was lowkey for us. We stayed at his place and binged on mindless television, awaiting new updates from his family, as well as from mine.
“I’m sorry. I kind of brushed aside what you were going through with my shit,” Sam said in the middle of a scene I didn’t think either of us was actually seeing.
We were snuggled together on his couch, laying down in a position not much different from when we were in bed, with his big spoon to my little spoon.
I shook my head against the bicep I was using as a pillow, and rearranged a smidge to look up at him. “Yours was more immediate. Please don’t apologize.”
When he leaned in to kiss my lips softly, I let him, closing my eyes and enjoying the moment. However, later that night when I made my way back to the Brayshaw house, the worries began to set in.
“I feel like all of this is a bad omen,” I confessed to Nikki while packing a weekend bag. I was planning on returning to Sam’s, but one, needed clothes, but also two, Sam had another call with his family and while I knew he didn’t mind if I was there, I thought it might be best for him to have privacy.
“Why do you say that?” Nikki frowned, crossing her arms as she watched me pull items out and tossing them on my bed.
“We literally decide to be a couple the day I find out my mom is dying, and not even a week later, his sister is nearly taken from him overseas. She’s hurt in a hospital somewhere in Germany and sure, she’s alive, but no one really knows how the healing will be. Between his sister and my mom...” I shook my head and tossed my volleyball clothes on the bed. “That’s a lot of crap, Nikki. And we’ve already established I’m leaving. Never mind the fact it’s a weird sort of circle, where him, and me, and Jacquie are concerned. You can’t say that that’s not weird.”
“Screw Jacquie! Who the hell cares about that whore? As for you? Maybe, you’re right where you’re supposed to be. Maybe you’re supposed to lean on him, and he’s supposed to lean on you.”
Shaking my head again, I pulled open my bag and started unceremoniously stuffing clothes inside. “Part of me is screaming that I have to stop this. It’s not fair to him. But the other part of me really, really likes him and wants to see where it goes.”
“How’s the sex?”
My hands stalled at their task.
“Samantha Piper! Surely, you’ve slept with the man! You’ve slept over twice, and are sleeping over again tonight and tomorrow! Heck, I wasn’t sure if this—” she waved toward my packing, “was maybe even a sign that I might not see much of you until you have to go back to California.”
I shrugged, but avoided my friend’s gaze. “We haven’t slept-slept together. I mean...we just sleep in bed.”
“What the hell are you waiting for?”
Zipping my bag, I finally looked up at Nikki. “It’s kind of silly, I guess, but we had this winner’s bet thing going on. Every game we won, there was a prize. The first game was my sundae.” I didn’t share that Sam ev
entually demanded his prize was a kiss. “Then we decided the next game, if we won, we’d go out on a date, but he was called in so we didn’t play.”
“So, what’s the prize if you win tomorrow?”
“The date still?”
“Girlfriend, that ship has sailed. For all intents and purposes, you’re dating him, right?”
“I am.” I had to fight the smile from blossoming across my thought. I was dating Sam Mayson. It was totally inconceivable and made zero sense at all. I was leaving, he was staying. He just broke off an engagement with my high school nemesis.
But I liked him and I really enjoyed spending time with him.
“Then do it! Bang the man. You know you want to.” Nikki shook her head. “I feel like we’re fifteen again, but this time it’s me telling you about sex.”
“I can’t help that I take more time to hop into bed with a guy now, than when I was a teenager,” I told her with a grin. “Sex was fun and exciting and forbidden then. Now... Now I know what I want and I’m pickier.”
Nikki moved to me and put her hands on my shoulders. “Samantha.” She took a breath. “Do you want to fuck the man?” She said it so seriously, yet I was surprised she didn’t laugh.
I didn’t hesitate in my answer though. “Well, yeah. He’s gorgeous and he’s fun and he makes me feel safe and heard.”
“Then fuck him!” Nikki laughed, shaking my shoulders. “Screw winning games. You’ve already got the prize.”
Suddenly an idea took root.
“Well, maybe...”
8
Sam
It had only been ninety-three minutes—not that I was counting—since Samantha left, and I found myself missing her.
This whole thing with her had been fast and unexpected, and while my mom had asked—worriedly, I’d add—if this was some sort of rebound situation, I knew with my whole heart that it wasn’t.
When Jacquie and I had first gotten together, it had been exciting, but I never ached to see her. She had her life and friends, and I had my life and friends. In full disclosure, I’d been surprised when she wanted to come with me when I left for medical school.
Having her around had been a comfort.
But having Samantha around was a thrill.
Four weeks, four months, or four years, this feeling was one I wanted to explore.
On top of that, I wanted to take it to the next level.
Little did I know, Samantha was thinking the same thing.
“So, I thought maybe...” she drew out, after she arrived and placed her overnight bag on the counter, stepping into my waiting arms.
“Hmm?” I lowered my head a fraction so I could press my lips to her in a small peck.
“We need a new incentive for winning tomorrow. Because, well, we’re dating. And I think a new incentive would help get our minds off of everything and everyone else.”
“I still owe you a real date, though.”
She shook her head. “Sam, I’m low-key. Low-maintenance. I don’t need fancy dinners to win me over.”
I understood what she was saying, but I really wanted to wine-and-dine her. I wanted to show her what she meant to me.
“But,” she continued, holding a finger in the air between us. “I thought maybe we could up the ante.” This time when she spoke, she avoided my eyes, instead watching her finger as it moved from the space between us, to land on my chest, trailing from my collar bone downward, stopping just above where my belly button was. Then, just before smiling, she slyly looked up at me with just those golden orbs. “We win, and I get to explore your body. In your bed.” Looking up at me now, she added, “Naked. In case that wasn’t clear enough.”
“You must read minds.” I spoke the words to take my attention off the blood that was rushing south. “I was thinking something similar.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mm. Yeah.” I cupped her face in my hands. “But I don’t want it tied to winning.”
Her smile was wide. “Are you afraid of losing?”
I thought back over the last few weeks, and not just on the volleyball court. Was I afraid of losing?
Shaking my head, I finally answered, “Not with you by my side.”
We kept the rest of the night light and relaxing, watching a moving and ordering dinner from a delivery app. And because Samantha was determined to keep sex as an incentive for tomorrow’s game, our kisses stayed in the first and second base range.
Hot kisses.
Deep kisses.
Her hands under my shirt.
My hands testing the weight of her chest, feeling the pebbled hardness of her nipples through the cotton of her bra, against the palms of my hands.
And when I showered that night, I took my personal situation into my own hands.
Then, when we laid in bed for the evening, after Samantha fell asleep, I thought back to her wager.
If we won.
She would explore.
Grinning, I looked over to her sleeping form.
I found a loophole in her plan, and while I absolutely wanted to win and feel her mouth over my skin, her lips around my cock, her hands fondling my balls...
If we lost?
I was still going to have her.
The drive home from the volleyball courts was quiet.
To Nikki and Cody, Samantha simply seemed disappointed in losing. She was highly competitive and while losing was part of the sport, it was clear she was upset.
But I knew the real reason she was upset, and although it did pertain to the score at the end of our game—we lost by two points in our tiebreaking match—she wasn’t a “sore loser” by any account.
She’d been looking forward to tonight.
Just thinking about her reaction to losing had me smiling.
“I don’t know why you’re grinning over there,” Samantha mumbled beside me in the truck as we headed back to my apartment. “We lost! That’s basically two weeks in a row where we missed out on our winning incentive.”
“You know,” I said, still grinning, “it’s not like the winning incentive is something we have to abide by. It was something fun for each week. But we put in place; we can take it away.”
“No. That’s like saying, ‘I told myself I couldn’t eat cake today because I ate half of a cake yesterday, but...ya know, I made the rule and if I want to eat the cake, to hell with the rest of my caloric plans.’”
I laughed loudly into the cab of the truck, shaking my head. “Your reasoning is sound but don’t you think you deserve something good?”
“Well, sure, but you can’t take back something you’ve said. There’s no take backs.”
Because I knew it wasn’t the case, and even if it were, my ego could take the hit—hell, maybe it would help me sort all of the crazy feelings and thoughts I was having—I said, “Maybe you just don’t want to sleep with me. Maybe you think I’m a bad lay.”
Samantha gasped, and the look on her face was comical. “I... You... NO! No, Sam. Good God, man, you’re like a walking sex dream. I thought it the first time I saw you. You probably have moms come into the office who are contemplating Munchausen’s just to see you more!” She grimaced then. “That was a bad joke, in poor taste. I really hope that doesn’t happen.”
Reaching for her hand, I grinned as I brought it to my lips and kissed the back. “Doesn’t happen. I promise.”
She watched my lips brush her hand. “Regardless,” she said softly, “you can’t take things back once they’re spoken into the universe.”
I squeezed her hand and placed in on my lap. “I think there’s a little more leeway into that.”
Samantha studied me for a moment. “You’re totally going to be the good cop when it comes to kids, aren’t you?”
“Are you saying you’ll be the bad cop, then?” I shot a smile in her direction.
“Are we seriously talking about kids right now?” She was smiling too though, so I nodded.
“I think we are.”
“It’s r
eally too soon to talk about the future though, right? Don’t you think?”
I slowed the truck for a curve, thankful that the apartment complex was nearby. “When you know, you know.”
“And you know?”
I thought about it for a moment. “Yeah, Samantha. I know.”
“But you just end—”
“That’s the past. I’m over it, and I’m starting to believe that it all happened for a reason. If it weren’t for my failed engagement, I wouldn’t have met you.”
“You don’t think that everything that has hit you, and hit me, over the past weeks... You don’t think that they’re reason to think maybe we’re not supposed to be together?”
Frowning, I glanced at her before pulling into the complex. “Is that what you think?”
“I mean...it was a thought.”
Shaking my head, I was silent as I brought the truck toward my complex and my garage, pulling in and turning off the engine. After I hit the garage button, I didn’t bother to get out; instead, I unbuckled and turned toward Samantha.
“I don’t think that those are signs we’re not supposed to be together. If anything, they’re signs that we should be together and that we can face anything at each other’s side.”
Her answering smile was small, her sigh soft. “That’s a nice way to look at it.”
“C’mon. Let’s get cleaned up and then I’m going to make you dinner.”
I showered first, and after, when Samantha was washing off the game, I started to prepare dinner.
Even though this dinner was no longer on the winner’s incentive list, I wanted to make it.
And then I wanted to take her to bed.
By the time Samantha exited the bedroom, I had the steaks on the grill and a glass of wine poured for her, sitting on the counter. “I took a chance on the wine,” I told her, motioning toward the glass. “Amber says it pairs well with red meat.”
Samantha smiled, and I felt a kick in the gut as I watched her. She was wearing sleep shorts and a fitted tank top, and her hair was wet but rolled into a bun at the top of her head.
