Always Was

by Amabel Daniels

  “Please don’t let that woman ruin you. A mother shouldn’t blame her daughter and berate her. When you start having kids…” Sammy with little tots running around. She’d be a great mom—to kids from some lucky bastard who better appreciate her. “You’ll know what not to do. Don’t give her the power to destroy you. You know better.”

  When she’d ceased shaking, her cheek against his chest, her palm on his bicep, he sighed. “You deserved support and reassurances. And while I’m with you, that’s what you’ll get.” Even if it weren’t a “forever” spelling out in many words, he meant it. His antagonism against settling would never stop him from being there for her. At the drop of a hat, the first ring of a call for help, he’d get there.

  Her steamed mess of hair bobbed, tickling his chin.

  Time passed, but he wasn’t sure if it were ten minutes or thirty that they sat there in each other’s arms before she spoke.

  “I should get back to Ink. Poor dog,” she whispered.

  “Let’s go, then.” He let his arm fall away from her as she sat up.

  Her lips pursed, and she glanced at the water instead of him, not leaving.

  Right. Modesty. Fear, even of him still. She wouldn’t want to expose herself in her bathing suit to him so close. As he slid in his seat to stand, to leave her some privacy, she stood in one graceful thrust out of the tub. Standing next to him, water coating her very near skin in a shiny sheen, Adam struggled not to stare. It was impossible not to look. She was right there.

  In a black string bikini—with her tank top still over it, drenched—she covered the necessities, but just barely. Even with her shirt still on, she couldn’t hide her body. Unblemished, satiny skin spanned so far, so lean. Muscles and curves added substance to her frame, both power and daintiness in her petite shape.

  Unable to resist, he let his gaze roam from her knees—at his eye level as he still sat—up to her thighs, her flat stomach, to the perfect globes of her tits. She’d filled out, that was a given.

  He clamped his mouth shut so quickly his teeth snapped together, refusing to drool, resolving not to leer, ogle, whistle. Anything to disrespect the breathtakingly gorgeous, sexy woman in front of him.

  His attention couldn’t manage the last leg of the journey up to her face, where he should have been looking to begin with. Darting his study to her left side, he let himself get lost in the… Tree. It was an intricate, all-black, badass tattoo of a tree, the roots mid-thigh, the trunk along her hip and side, with the branches reaching out in a canopy under her breasts, spreading to her front and back. The dark ink showed clearly enough under wet shirt, enticing him to study more—

  “Eyes are up here,” she said.

  He snapped his gaze to meet hers. At least there was a taunting tone to her statement as she threw his words back at him, not indignation or fear.

  “See something you like?” she deadpanned.

  Swallowing first, he nodded. Adopting the same topic she’d used to hide her interest in seeing his body the night before, he said, “That … that’s some wicked ink.” He took another glance, craning his head to check out the lines wrapping around to her back. And her ass… God, he was only human. Damn. Had she been hiding an absolutely sinful body.

  “Thanks.” She stepped out, presenting her backside to him, and he prayed he wouldn’t show an erection that quickly.

  Kid gloves. Jake’s sister. She was assaulted. Do not even think about it. Keep cool, asshole!

  Despite the sobering knowledge of her past, her pain, he couldn’t cease reacting to her, blood rushing to his cock faster than his skin cooled in his exit of the hot tub. It would have been like expecting an ice cube not to melt in a frying pan.

  He’d always harbored a connection to her, something he’d dismissed in his younger days as a benign fondness of friendship. Seeing her in the flesh, as a woman, he wondered how he’d duped himself back then, disguising his undeniable interest in her as something less than pure, fervent desire. An emotional bond had existed before, and the physical pull was exposing itself in a scorching flame of lust.

  “I’ll, uh…” He snatched a towel from a chair and tugged it around his waist. “I’ll be right behind you in a second.”

  She glanced back at him, having secured her towel at her lower half.

  “Gonna stop and see where some vending machines are.” Such a lame excuse, but he’d needed a minute.

  “See you upstairs,” she said with a wave.

  So not helping.

  Upstairs. A room with one bed.

  After she left, he stood there, staring at the door that shut behind her. “Gonna be a long night,” he mumbled under his breath.

  Chapter Nine

  Sammy let herself in their room, not rushing, not hurrying to get in the bathroom with her clothes in order to hide herself from Adam when he arrived.

  What would have been the point? He’d gotten more than an eyeful at the hot tub. Wearing a shirt over her suit wasn’t exactly armor.

  Rushed respiration still fueled her jerky movements in the room. She grabbed a cami and clean panties from her bag, then picked up her toiletries. Adrenaline catalyzed her heart rate as she began a shower, not from fight or flight, but from the heated gaze he’d lain on her flesh, as though he wished it could have been his tongue following the lines of the tree trunk on her side.

  Oh, mama mia.

  Lathering herself in the shower, she squinted her eyes shut, hoping not to whimper or squeal like a demented animal, so giddy and flustered, yet hesitant, at his raw appreciation of her body. After cloistering herself under nondescript layers, buffering herself from any visual attempts of men checking her out, she’d melted her soul in allowing Adam the full view, up close and personal.

  Well, in her bathing suit and wet shirt.

  It was too much to process, too enormous a change to smoothly swallow without gagging or choking.

  If she could reveal that much of herself to Adam, she realized that, just maybe, her past could only define her so long. Instead of retreating to the fear of what happened years ago, she could savor the freedom in the present. And wonder what the future might hold.

  She shut off the water, clean, but still so … contaminated, deliciously tainted, by his heavy-lidded reaction.

  In one day, in a handful of hours, she’d told him she’d been assaulted, explained a tip of the iceberg of her downfall after the incident, and dared to show him some serious skin. All three events unprecedented. He was the one and only person privy to her so intimately—with her permission.

  Because he seemed unthreatening, she’d gone to the hot tub, searching his company, fully aware of how little her bikini—well, under her shirt—could cover. She’d opened her mouth and spoke about that night on campus, without any demands or pushes for info.

  Drying her hair with a towel, she stared at her reflection in the mirror, proud and in disbelief she’d survived such risks with him. Small minutiae of accomplishments in her shrouds of daily fear and anxiety.

  Dressed in her cami and panties, she caught a glimpse of the hot-tub warmed Mace on the counter. She had no idea of the potential chemical reactions of the gas inside. For so long she’d had not one but multiple canisters for protection. One to keep in her bed with her. Another in her art tote. Miniature version dangling from her apartment keys.

  Without a doubt, she knew it wouldn’t be keeping her company beneath the sheets tonight. Even more confidently, she anticipated it wouldn’t be a figment of a worry. While he’d expressed a blatant lust in his gaze in the hot tub, Sammy had a solid hunch he wouldn’t dream of trying anything with her.

  How could he? How could she possibly be so incorrect and misled to peg him as another untrustworthy man when he’d held her, exposed his firm convictions about women having the right to refuse men regardless of circumstances?

  She left the bathroom and found she was still the lone occupant of the main room, save for Ink who raised a sleepy face and lowered it back to the bed. Exh
austed, and lulled to a soothed relaxation from the soak in the hot tub, she didn’t bother wondering what to do next—whether she should wait for Adam to return, to insist that he couldn’t possibly consider sleeping all night in the crappy chair, if they should sleep head to toe.

  She tossed her stuff in her bag, turned off all the lights except the one nearest the door, and slipped under the covers. Sleep beckoned her, and the nagging worries and frantic thoughts stayed hidden in the back of her mind. Adam could figure it out, and oddly, for the first time in many months, she was at peace to accept his decisions. No sooner than her head nestled on the pillow, she gave up on the curiosity of if Adam would have preferred the side of the bed she’d chosen.

  ****

  Buzzes from her phone on the nightstand gave Sammy her first cue to wake up the next morning. Solid weights—dumbbells?—pressed her shins to the mattress. Leaning up, she blinked away the sleep in her eyes, realizing that Adam’s feet were resting on her legs.

  Slouched on the chair, perpendicular to the single bed, Adam still slept. How, she couldn’t know. Folding halfway over on a junky chair didn’t seem a conducive position to even nap in, even with his legs propped onto the bed as they were.

  Shifting to sit upright, she jostled him, the movement enough to wake him with a groan. “What time is it?” he asked.

  “Six ten.”

  Fully conscious, he scooted in the chair, sliding his feet to the carpet. “Did my alarm wake you? Sorry.” With narrowed eyes, he searched for his phone.

  She quirked a brow, yawning. “You always get up early?”

  “I like to start the day with a run.”

  Nodding, she stood and stretched a little. Perfect. He could run and she could squeeze in some push-ups and crunches. Two days were too long for her to skip her workout regimen. “How long do you go for? I’d kind of like to make up some extra miles on the road today.”

  On his feet now, he stood to his full impressive sight. He might have been bold enough to let his gaze linger on her skin last night, but she still had to look away. Blinding sunshine again.

  “Half hour okay with you?”

  “Sure.” Giving him a smile, with a scolding to keep her attention above his neck, she passed by him. As she rooted in her bag for a change of clothes, she heard him rummaging in his own sack for whatever he needed.

  Well… This isn’t so hard. She smiled, grateful they were back to normal, uncomplicated discussions. Thank God he’s done with our chitchat from last night. Past is in the past. And let’s keep it that way.

  “Hey, Sammy?”

  She stilled, cautious in her cami and panties, clueless what his soft tone could hint to. “Yeah?”

  “Morning.” His grin was wide, emphasizing the rough stubble on his jaw and the lean cut of his features.

  It should be illegal for a guy to be so sexy this early in the morning. How am I going to handle him in full daylight?

  “Morning,” she replied.

  Relieved to be in her solitude once he left for his run, she breezed through some basic exercises, enough to spur her heart racing, to gain some welcome aches, and to heighten the grumbles of her empty stomach.

  Showered, packed, and ready to go, Sammy tended to Ink outside. Fifteen minutes after she exited the motel, Adam came to the car, dressed in a jersey-soft, thin, green t-shirt and cargo shorts that had definitely gotten many miles in. Instead of looking like he was ready to plop his ass in the passenger seat for hours, he struck her as a mountaineer, a rugged explorer gearing up for an adventure.

  Must be the wanderlust in him.

  “Ready?” she asked, her foot on the open doorframe of the driver’s door, Ink leaning on the opened window of the passenger seat, wagging her itty-bitty tail.

  He slid his sunglasses down from the top of his head to settle them over his eyes, flicks of moisture flying free from his shower-wet hair. “I’m all yours, Sammy.”

  Tease.

  They made quick work of filling up the gas tank and securing nourishment for the morning, both caffeinated and edible. Moving at a safe but slightly illegal speed with the cruise control setting, Sammy began their day of driving.

  “Sleep well?” Adam asked around his breakfast bar.

  She nodded. Actually, she’d slept beautifully. No nightmares. No dreams. Had her wondering if his presence aided in that respite.

  “You seem to be in an awfully good mood this morning.”

  Was that an implication that he wasn’t? She glanced at him. No sour vibes came from him. She was happier than usual, and she guessed her lightheartedness came from the relief of getting the boulders off her chest. Telling Adam her secret, even the little bit that she had shared, was rejuvenating, relieving, like she had a little less of Eeyore’s gloom hanging over her head. “Just anxious to get some distance in.”

  “Are we behind schedule?” he asked as he leaned to his side to slip some scraps to Ink in the backseat.

  Maintaining her concentration mostly on the road ahead, she noticed his proximity from her peripheral vision. Nearer to her, over the console, she could pick up the fresh scents of his body wash. Something like a forest. Raw. Earthy. Enticing. A heady combination she’d pay to have bottled and molded into candles.

  “No, no. We’re good. I only need to make it to Concord by Friday.”

  Adam gave her a thumbs-up and adjusted himself in the seat. He chose the same alternative rock radio station they’d listened to the previous day.

  The lack of communication both calmed her and fretted her. Less speaking meant less revelations. She could keep to herself and continue hoarding her problems. Conversation with Adam wasn’t as scary as she’d might have thought it could be, though, and she found herself rehearsing and rejecting possible ways to break the ice, to initiate small talk, a trip down memory lane, or even a stupid comment about the unfiltered sunlight after the rain. Anything… Nerves prevented her from voicing her thoughts, not because she was avoiding interaction, but because he was too tempting to want to speak with and she didn’t want to sound lame.

  Singing along to Stone Temple Pilots near noon, they fell into an easy banter of arguing who knew the lyrics better.

  “We’re getting close to E. How about we fill up and hit a drive-thru? That way we can stay on the road.”

  Adam agreed and checked the clock on the dash. “Damn. Didn’t realize five hours went by already.”

  A half hour later, waiting in line to order at a drive-thru, Sammy tapped her fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of “One Headlight.”

  “How come Friday?” Adam asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why do you need to be back home by Friday?”

  “Would you call Concord home?” she countered.

  He scoffed. “I don’t have one. Moved too often to make one.”

  “Just because I came from there doesn’t mean it’s my home. I’m not welcome there, so I could hardly call it my residence.”

  Technicalities, she knew. But calling Concord “home” was a fat falsehood. “Friday is the day I need to meet Edgar.”

  Adam twisted in his seat to face her. “I’m surprised you’re going back.”

  Makes two of us.

  “With the bad memories you left behind there…” He sighed. “I’d figure you’d avoid it at all costs.”

  “I intended to.” Turning the volume to the radio down, she ordered at the intercom and pulled forward. Raising the decibels on the tune again would be rude. She’d told him so much already, and it was an unusual welcome to elaborate on her goals.

  “After…” She faltered.

  “That asshole did what he did,” Adam said.

  She still couldn’t even simply state it matter-of-factly. Thank God he was so smooth to counter her awkwardness.

  “Right. And after I tried to tell my mother that I couldn’t continue at Dartmouth, I was spent. I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t go back to the classes I had no ambition for. Don’t get me wrong, I loved
school.”

  “Never knew you not to, nerd.”

  “And I didn’t take any of the tuition and resources for granted. But it wasn’t my life. Not my dreams, my passions. My enthusiasm for the agenda my parents chose for me was next to nil, and after … that night, I physically refused to return for the next semester. I either didn’t eat, or Reese brought me food. I just barely stomached going to the DMV to renew my driver’s license on my birthday. I went to Walmart in the early hours of the morning to buy essentials, just to avoid crowds. There was no way I could see myself sitting in a classroom near my peers, like the ones at that party, and for coursework I didn’t desire.”

  He put his warm hand on her knee. She hadn’t realized she’d been bouncing it on the brake pedal.

  “So I left. I wanted a fresh start. There was nothing for me there. Not even my sanity. It was hard to leave Jake and Marta, but I needed to save myself. I couldn’t keep existing in a non-life like I had been. It was too toxic.”

  She crept forward in line and took a deep breath, reliving the motivations she’d had at the time of her escape.

  “I didn’t want anything to tie them to me. Their money, their expectations, their name. I gave my father the keys to my car. I didn’t want them to accuse me of stealing it. I asked to borrow Jake’s car, took some clothes, my art stuff, and hit the road. When I ended up in California, I had nothing. I didn’t touch any cards, bank accounts, any of their money. I didn’t put their names down as emergency contacts on my school registrations. If they hadn’t disowned me already, I took care of it. I cut the cords.”

  Adam reached up, wrapping his muscular arm around her neck, and tugged her close to his side of the car. He kissed her cheek with a loud smack. “You’re fucking awesome, Sammy. They didn’t disown you. You disowned them.”

  Let’s see what you think in a minute here, buddy.

  “I didn’t care what they termed it. They did end all financial connections to me that I knew of. When I applied for insurance through school, it showed I was an independent, no longer on their plans. So it was obvious my departure ended everything. But I never did it to be a rebel, Adam. Their reactions weren’t in my goals. I simply needed out.”