by Dyanne Davis
Sam was staring at her. She could tell he wanted to ask questions, but she needed to get it all out. “When I finally left your apartment, I had to force myself to leave you. I didn't want to. I wanted to remain in your bed, in your arms, in your home, and never see another person. I didn't want to return to work, and I didn’t want to talk to people. I didn't want to talk to my parents because I couldn't help them. They'd lost a son and then I took away their only remaining child. I didn't want to see their faces, didn't want to see our home. I could only live if I just allowed myself to exist in the world. No strong connections. No safe havens. No you.”
“Rebe, are you saying what I think you're saying?”
“Probably. Go ahead and ask. I'll be honest with you tonight. Tomorrow, I'm not so sure.”
“I didn’t know you hadn’t seen your parents.”
“I talk to them every day, sometimes two or three times a day.
“It's been nearly three years, Rebe. Have you really not been home to see your parents?”
“No.”
“But I thought you went every Christmas.”
She licked her lips and stared at him.
“Where have you been going?”
“I've been holding up in my apartment.”
“All this time you've been pretending to leave town. You’ve spent the holidays alone. You allowed your parents to spend the holiday alone. Rebe, why?”
“I couldn’t.”
“If I had known I would have stayed in town with you. I wouldn’t have allowed you to spend the holidays alone.”
“And that’s why I didn’t tell you. If you even brought up the holiday I started a fight. She laughed softly. “You probably don’t remember.”
“Not specifically. It seems anything I said or did pissed you off. I can barely remember when we didn’t fight in the last two…almost three years.”
“I know. I’m sorry.
“But what about Kandi? Didn’t she know you weren't going home?”
“She knew. I told her I couldn't. She's been trying to get me to go home. I haven't told her why. Sam, Kandi isn't my safe haven. You are. And I know you're thinking I'm a coward, that I'm selfish and that my parents need me. I know all of this but….”
“You're pushing away all the people who truly love you, all the people you love.” Sam blinked. "Rebe, are you in love with me?"
“I wouldn't mind being in love with you, Sam. But it's more than that. It's…you. I─”
“You're worried I'll die.”
She didn’t answer.
“We're all going to die.”
“I know that. But I don't have to feel it so deeply. It doesn't have to destroy me.”
“And you think if you aren't around the people you love, and something happens to them you'll be protected?” Sam frowned at her trying to understand her logic
"You can't be my everything, Sam. I can't depend on you. I can't give you my heart. Recently I've been thinking about the way you've manipulated me to keep living, to move on, to get back out in the world.” She gave a snort. “I didn't know at the time that you were doing it, but I recently figured it out. You've done something for me my own parents haven't been able to do and that's to make me care about living. It was because of you that I'm looking to do more with my law degree, that I allowed myself to become more involved with the writing. What you think about me matters…way too much. I don't want us to continue being enemies, but I don't want to be more with you. You make me weak. And I need to be strong.”
“My kiss was that bad huh?”
“No, the opposite. I know you're the one, Sam. I know it with everything that's inside of me. But I chose not to avail myself of you. Besides, you still hate me, don't you?”
Sam lightly scratched his chin as he stared at Rebe. She'd dropped a bombshell on him. Right now she was weak. He could tell if he pushed they'd move past their play of animosity and she'd blame her loving him on him. She wouldn't enjoy a moment of it.
Did he hate her? Hell no. He'd loved her for years, so in a way he'd been hiding also. But for different reasons. He'd read her books and all of her heroes looked like Chase. It was apparent they were modeled after him or men who resembled him. But the characteristics she’d given to the heroes were not what Chase possessed. While Sam stared at Rebe he smiled, knowing she'd combined him and Chase for her hero. What did he say?
“I don't hate you, Rebe. I just hate the way you behave at times. I'm disappointed in you and the way you've allowed Chase to use you.”
“I know you're disappointed.”
“And you don't care.’
"Wrong. I do. Which is part of the reason I'm having this conversation with you. I know who Chase is. He's fun and I like being with him most times, but I also know he's not the one. If something happened to him, I would grieve, but after some time passed I'd wake up and my life would return to normal.”
“And if I died?”
“I'm not going there with you.”
“Rebe, you have to go and visit your parents. If we could get back to being friends, I'll go with you.”
“You going with me would be the only way I could go. You’re right as usual. It’s time for me to go home. Are you sure you're going to be okay with going with me?”
“It depends. I still have a couple of questions I’d like to ask you.”
“Ask.”
“So, you're not in love with Chase?”
“No.”
“And you have no plans to be in love with me?”
“Are you in love with me, Sam?”
“Like you said, you're an old friend of mine who has gone astray. My goal is to help you get back on the right path.”
“I will find my own path. For now Chase is someone I want to be with me on my journey.” “Then I guess I have no choice but to be okay with whatever decisions you plan to make concerning your life.”
“Did you threaten Chase?”
“Did he tell you that?”
“No, but I saw the two of you together and the way he behaved afterwards. He kept glancing at you. He wasn't himself. You know that contract you have with the firm doesn't give you license to mock Chase with your painting.”
“You're worried about him?”
“I'm not sure.”
“My painting will depict him exactly as I see him.”
“Oh God, I hope you never do another drawing of me. I've heard that you think I have way too many imperfections for you to ever love me.”
Sam grinned at Rebe. It was a loaded question she’d asked him. She wanted to hear that he loved her while she had no intentions of returning his love. He laughed instead. “Call your parents, do it now. Tell them we'll drive down in a couple of weeks, a couple of months, or whenever you want, just make it soon, okay. You can even ask Kandi if she wants to come. I think that might make it easier for you to be with me.”
“I don't want to end up in your bed for another two weeks. There would be nothing of me left.”
“I promise that won’t happen. You'll remain whole. Now let's eat.” Sam walked into Rebe’s kitchen took out two plates and scooped out the food putting her plate in the microwave to warm her cheese fries, then his own.
Rebe watched Sam. The things he did were so automatic. He was the epitome of the perfect hero, only he wasn't the one she wrote about physically. He was an inch shorter than her and husky. Rebe smiled to herself. Alright already, he wasn’t shorter than her. She’d been proven wrong on that score. He wore his hair long and uncombed most of the time, and he wore unattractive glasses. He was generally covered in paint splatters and was often clumsy; or rather he used to be.
Hmm, what had happened with that? She tried to remember the last time she'd seen Sam stumble over something and she remembered perfectly. It had been the day before she'd received the news about her brother. She reminisced how it had been the last time their foursome was just that. Sam had stumbled over something or other and the rest of them had laughed. She’d teased him,
hugging him as she told him he should take out accident insurance before he found himself in big trouble.
The next day when she'd needed him, Sam had not stumbled once. She tried to think of a time but couldn’t because he hadn’t. Nope not a single time. What had changed in twenty-four hours where he'd become her safe haven and he'd become rock solid? She looked at Sam as he made his way back to her with the plates in his hands. It was in his eyes, in his touch, in his scolding of her. The thing between them was love.
“Are we friends again?” she asked.
“Yes, but don't ask me to change the way I'm going to do my painting. That's personal. I'd never try to get you to change your writing, not even to redo your version of what makes a man heroic. I believe we feel the same about our art.”
Sam put the plates down and stared at Rebe. It felt different and odd for them to be moving to another phase of their relationship. They’d been friends, Frenemies, and now what? Friends again? He thought of the kiss a few nights before, how soft Rebe’s skin felt. But he'd known that already.
Once what he'd only imagined he now knew as fact. Rebe’s mouth had fit his perfectly. She tasted like warn sunshine and life bursting with energy. He’d forgotten while he was kissing her exactly where he was. Kissing Rebe in front of her boyfriend had not even been a consideration. She’d been Sam’s for that moment. Now they would move to trying to pretend neither of them had felt the things they’d felt. The urge to kiss her once more before they began this impossibly hard journey caused him to smile.
“You want to kiss me again don't you?”
“Well, what if we only imagined what we felt?”
“It wasn't my imagination.”
“I'm not sure about my feelings. It was a bizarre night. Things could have gotten a bit mixed up,” Sam said. He walked closer to her. “We should at least be sure, don't you think?”
Sam gazed into Rebe’s eyes deciding to just go for it. He kissed her gently at first, just barely tasting her lips, wanting to remember everything about this kiss in case she was foolish enough to let go of what they could have.
Over and over he tasted her lips with his tongue before entering her mouth. The electrical zap was wholly unexpected as he went deeper. Hearing her low moan in the back of her throat he plundered her mouth as though he was a marauding pirate of old. Sam could do nothing about the instant erection, it came with the territory. He continued kissing Rebe until the need for air prevented it.
Rebe was trembling when he slowly pulled away, a look of surprise on her face, her nipples erect and standing at attention. “So what do you think?” he asked.
“I think we'd better finish eating, and then you'd better go.”
“Not even a movie?”
“Not on your life.”
“Is this really the way you want this to be?”
“It’s how it has to be, Sam. I never doubted we'd be good together. That doesn't mean I'm going to change my mind. And just so you know, it’s not out of vanity. Actually I like you just as you are─all your imperfections and nagging ways. You make me want to be much better than I am. But I don't know if I want the lofty goals you have in mind for me.”
“Are you hoping to marry Chase?”
“Don't worry. I'm not fooling myself that I have a future of marriage, babies, and happily ever after with Chase. I do want to clear something else up with though. There is one of your perceptions of me that I don’t want you to have. I’m not with Chase because I’m trying to make partner. I’m with him because I like him. He’s fun, and most of the time we’re good together. Chase is easy breezy. And easy breezy is about all I can handle. Truly, even though I know I sound like it, I'm not an air head. I'm just looking after myself the way that I believe is best. Chase is best for me.”
Sam dropped his fork and stared at Rebe. Did she really believe the line of garbage she’d just given him? Chase better for her. Like hell he was. But Sam had no intentions of trying to convince her that Chase was not only, not the best thing for her, he was out and out bad for her. Did he have any idea who the best man for her was? Of course he did. But he had no use for a woman he'd have to coerce to be with him.
In spite of everything, Sam would be Rebe’s friend. As far as their immediate future his plans were to do his best to at least get her over the silly notion of not being around the people she loved. To think she'd not seen her parents in years because of nonsense. He would have read the riot act to her if she'd not told him of her reason. Now how could he? He sighed. When Rebe finally decided to love a man with all that was in her it was going to be a sight to behold. Even if he wasn’t that man, he wanted that kind of happiness for Rebe.
Feeling Rebe staring at him, Sam lifted his eyes to find Rebe’s gaze fixed firmly on him. Her eyes were two huge pools of sadness that pulled him from his seat and to her side.
Running the pads of his fingers slowly down the sides of Rebe’s face, Sam sighed and hugged her close to his body. He felt her shiver. Or had the shiver been his? He wasn’t certain. But he did know holding her as he was doing was putting them both in a places Rebe said she didn’t want to be. His mission had always been to protect her so it was up to him to back off. Taking in a deep breath he held it and moved away. Only then did he allow the breath to escape.
Safely back on the couch he picked up his plate and silently ate. When he was done he waited for Rebe to be finished, then took the plates to the kitchen and placed them in the sink. Then he turned toward Rebe. “I think you're right. I think I'd better go.”
Chapter Eight
Three weeks had passed since Rebe and Sam had cleared the air between them. She had to admit things were much better at work and at home. Not having the tension between them was a welcome. Being able to spend time with Kandi and Sam without fighting was beginning to feel like old times. She needed them in her life. More importantly, she wanted them in her life. For no particular reason she was feeling cheerful.
Walking into the office the excitement was contagious. Rebe didn't have to wonder who was bringing the excitement. Since Sam had started working on the yet to be started mural the women had flocked to him, so had the men. It was as though he had this thing about him that attracted people, this certain aura. She’d noticed the women had begun dressing in a variety of pastels. Flowers of all sorts were appearing on the desks in the office as if by magic. She didn’t have to ask to know that the reason their office now reassembled a painting of a beautiful summer day. Sam. He seemed to have that effect on people, a way of bringing joy and sunshine wherever he went was but many of his attributes.
Following the incessant chatter and the oohs and ahhs, Rebe walked into the hall where Sam would paint the mural, a place he'd said when he began the actual painting of the partners, no one would be allowed. He'd deliberately chosen a wall where the foot traffic could be halted. She stopped and stared, first at Sam, then the wall. Sam of course had paint splatters on his body even in his hair and on his glasses. For a moment she wandered if he did it deliberately considering there was not a drop of paint on the floor. Then she looked at the wall, and gasped, he'd painted it a silvery blue, the same color of the dress she’d worn to the dance. Ice blue. She didn't even have to ask to know that Sam had mixed the colors. She'd thought he'd be backing away from the praise of so many people. But he wasn't. He stood to the side, his eyes on her as though it was only one opinion that mattered. Hers.
“Sam, it's beautiful.” Rebe stared again at the wall then back at him. I love the color. It reminds me of a night of fun,” she teased. “This wall looks too beautiful to put a mural on it.”
Sam laughed. “That's the point. The mural will need to be showcased so painting the wall was necessary. And ice blue has now become my favorite color, with the exception perhaps of chocolate brown, the same color of your eyes.” He took a look at her purple outfit and purple contacts then laughed.
Rebe was relieved she didn’t have to answer Sam’s flirty, teasing banter. The noise of the staff b
rought out the partners, including Chase.
“What's all the fuss about?” Chase asked. “It’s just a wall with a coat of paint.”
All eyes except hers turned in Chase’s direction. Rebe knew why Chase didn't have praise for what Sam had done. One glance at the office staff and she was aware he should have said nothing.
“You have got to be kidding. The man is a genius,” one voice rang out.
“Then maybe he can come to your house and paint your walls,” Chase hissed.
“You've just made things ten times worse, Rebe thought as she glanced at Chase and shook her head discreetly in disapproval. Her gaze met Sam’s and she saw the look in his eyes. He'd removed his glasses and was staring at Chase. There was a confident challenge in the way he looked. Please Chase she wanted to warn him. Let this one go. Mr. Newton turned slowly toward Chase and Rebe’s heart sank. She could feel a reprimand and felt sorry for Chase.
“Chase, apparently you don’t know a thing about art,” Mr. Newton, one of the senior partners scolded. “Sam is an artist, a great artist. You should be pleased that he accepted this job and you should be proud that he will be painting you. It’s an honor.”
Rebe wondered about the praise from Mr. Newton. She turned toward Sam who had serene smile on his lips.
“Don't worry about it,” Sam said looking at Mr. Newton. “I am an artist and I work with all elements of paint, and I do house painting as well. I'm very proud of the homes I've transformed… now if you approve of the color I've chosen, it's time for all of you to leave me to my work. By the way I'm having a door installed here in a couple of hours. I will have the only access.”
When Mr. Newton turned to look at him, Sam smiled the most beautiful smile Rebe had ever seen. “It's in my contract,” Sam said. “Don't worry when I'm done, you'll never know a door was ever installed.”
