by Melissa Blue
~A Samantha Black Wisdom
A wisdom Samantha Black had every intention of following. Except her well-meaning friends refused to let her drink herself into a stupor. Unfortunately, the only man within a five-mile radius had the same genetic make-up. The only option left was to lie and say she felt fine, ditch them and find the nearest bar.
She could feel guilty later about that. Her ex was like a sour taste in her mouth only a cold, yeast-filled beer could do away with. Or anything fifty percent proof and up. Her ex had the tendency, on a really bad day, to make it worse. And love, in any way shape or form, was a risk. One that didn’t pay off this time.
So, it was like she had tunnel vision. She left work, headed to McGee’s, got out of her car and finally something inside Samantha loosened when the smell of tobacco, stale peanuts and beer wafted up to her. The familiar, weathered door warmed beneath her hand. A smile spread across her face until her gaze clashed with one man. Probably the only other man who could rain on her parade.
Yes, the day could, in fact, get worse.
Pride propelled her forward. She couldn’t turn back around; she’d been spotted. With a lift of her chin, she made her way to the bar. Sam was a grown up. She could reside in the same bar as Evan the IT Geek. Being in the same space as Evan didn’t mean she had to drink with him. No, Evan wasn’t the bastard who left her, on Valentine’s Day no less, but the one who found it entertaining to annoy her on a daily basis.
The truth was his face was the last she wanted to see period, whether in a drunken stupor or not. God, she could almost hear him asking, in that deep baritone of his, if she’d tried to turn the computer off and then on. Who in this day in age didn’t do that first?
It didn’t stop there. The endless questions, the almost condescending chiding when updates made her computer practically implode. And the snotty e-mails advising her to not Reply All on the latest Internet meme sitting in her inbox. Before she sent it. So, she made sure to only forward them to him.
Their relationship consisted of glittery graphics, God loves you and subtly patronizing exchanges. The icing on the cake: Evan looking completely exasperated as he tried to squeeze into her cubicle to fix whatever program she happened to break. Emphatically, yes, the day could, in fact, get worse.
The bartender nodded his head at her as if he could read what she need on her face. “Scotch on the rocks.”
She nodded her consent at the choice. Didn’t matter now. The hairs along Sam’s arm stood up like they always did whenever he was within breathing distance. Sam sighed before saying, “Hi, Evan.”
“ Sam.” He smiled at her, more of a smirk really. Thick brown locks of his hair fell over his forehead, stopping just short of black-rimmed glasses. Hazel eyes smoldered behind the the glass frames.
She held her breath, telling herself it had everything to do with staunching the dislike. You know, ’cause she’d just broke up with her three month-long boyfriend. She couldn’t be attracted to uber-geek Evan. Despite these thoughts, she noticed the way his eyes softened when the bartender placed her order down.
“Since I never see you in here I’m going to guess you’ve had a rough week.”
She snorted. “You care?”
Something passed behind his gaze again. Something she refused to read into. “I don’t kick people when they’re down.” He slid onto the bar stool next to her, and the words left her speechless. “You look down. You look like you want the bartender to leave the bottle in front of you.” He nodded to the bartender. “Leave the bottle.” He placed a fifty on the counter. “Since I’m nice at least once a year I’ll help you forget your troubles.”
Okay, was he hitting on her? No. Sam glanced down into the cup. Thank God. She hadn’t lost any inhibitions yet.
“I would say thanks, but I think this kindness comes with a price tag.”
He gave her another one of his smirks and filled her glass to the rim. “Drink up. You can worry about that later.”
Figuring he’d just agreed to pay the tab for the night, Sam couldn’t agree more.
*****
Sam blinked into her third glass. One should never drink on a stomach full of bar peanuts. And, beer goggles was a cliché term for a reason. ’Cause around the same third glass Evan had stopped looking like a geek. All the condescending, subtle snideness she contributed to his tone of voice had fallen away. His hazel eyes shone with a secret joke only he knew. By the same third glass she wanted him to share that joke.
“Sooo,” she slurred. Yeah, the beer goggles made her feel loose, sexy, uninhibited. She knew it was the Jack in the glass, but at this point she didn’t care.
There was the shine again, and that sultry smirk. “Yessss?”
“I told you about the break up. The time I fell off my bike and got this scar.” She lifted the gauzy skirt to show him her knee.
The scar zigzagged from the top of her knee to her shin. He touched it with his forefinger, traced the scar up to the tip. Sam’s breath hitched. She wasn’t sex starved. That was the only good thing between Sam and her ex. They had sex all the time. It was the only thing they agreed on, but that had ended more than a few weeks ago. The beginning of the end.
And, yet this touch…she made a humming noise. His wide palm rested on her thigh a moment, and then he pulled down the soft material of the skirt. In that moment she wanted him to touch her again like that. To let his fingers caress her inner thigh until any thoughts she managed to hold onto drifted away, drowned out by the sensation. But this was Evan, the uber-geek. The same man who got irritated when she left her computer on during the night.
She blew out a breath, staunching the irrational thoughts. “And I know nothing about you other than you work in the IT department.”
He leaned against the counter, poured himself another glass. His cup held more ice than the last time she saw it. “I graduated from Fresno State with a Masters. History.” He paused, turned a swift, but hot gaze on her. “It was a passion.”
Just like the moment his hand rested on her thigh she wished for more of the same. He cleared his throat, spoke again, “Couldn’t find a job though so I went to a vocational college for computer engineering. Graduated and started to work for our company.”
She jerked her head no. “Those are facts. I’ve given you scintillating details. Have you ever gotten your heart broken?” Sam blurted out before she could stop herself.
Without the liquor she would have known it was the wrong thing to ask. When he straightened away from the counter, his reaction confirmed it. She mentally kicked herself. No matter how she felt about him a couple hours ago, he’d listened to her whine about a relationship that didn’t last long enough for her to be heartbroken over. But the main thing is he listened.
“Yes.” He lifted his glass and stared at what was left.
“I didn’t mean—”
The smirk came back. “I’ve been enamored with you for a year.” He nodded, confirmed the timing in his head. “Watching you, you ignoring me, my heart’s been plenty broken. For a man my age it’s a little pathetic, but I can’t—” He shook his head. “Yes, it has.”
He saluted Sam with his glass and finished the drink. The bottle sat empty between them. She yearned for another drink after his announcement, but had hit the point where if she had another glass someone would have to carry her home. She lifted the cup and sucked on an ice cube to get her brain to work properly. How do you reply to something like that? Before this night she hadn’t thought twice about Evan in that way. Now…yeah, she liked him.
Maybe even started to like him, like him He was funny, smart. Did she mention he had a wicked sense of humor? Her true weakness. Ok. Ok. Maybe more than twice she’d thought of him that way, because it was hard to not note how he smelled while they were stuck in a sardine-can-sized cubicle. The small space would fill with something akin to…man and musk. The type of scent filled with pheromones that made her think of mating and kissing and other things she shouldn’t let cross her m
ind. But then he’d ask something like, “Did you just close your eyes and jam the flash drive into the general area of the USB port?” And the moment would be gone.
Her eyes strayed to him. He was staring at the bottom of his glass like an oracle lay in the amber colored ice. “Um.” The best she could come up with while her brain soaked in scotch.
The smirk spread into a smile. “It’s okay.” He nodded to the bartender. “Just cups of ice.”
He turned to her, but the secret joke had left his eyes. “I hear a good way to sober up is to move. Let’s dance.”
“Ah, um.”
He took her glass and then her hand. She couldn’t even hear music, but who was she to question? Sam knew she shouldn’t have felt obligated to dance with him. Callous, but she hadn’t asked him to be enamored with her, least of all tell her how he felt. What type of person used words like enamored? A
person who studied history. A person who thought smirks could come off as smiles. His hands encircled her waist. Maybe just him.
And did losing one’s inhibitions always feel this good, though? She wanted to throw her head back and let out a big laugh. Or just snuggle closer to the warmth of him and fall asleep in his arms. She silently prayed it was the liquor and not him making her think like this.
Because Sam didn’t know, she sighed, moved closer to him. He stopped in the middle of the floor, in front of the small stereo. When did that thing get there?
He cupped her cheeks, lifting her face to his. A wry smile twisted his lips. “How many of me are you seeing?”
She chuckled despite the turmoil knotting her stomach. “Didn’t know you had a twin.”
His hands slid down from her face, the sides of her breasts to her waist again. His touch created an anxiousness, a warmth between her legs. She couldn’t look at him. Not while she tried to register each sensation, each emotion flitting through her head. He continued the caress, until her breath came out in gasps. So instead of trying to pin down one thought, she rested her head on his chest. Sam took in a breath, taking him into her senses again. She buried her face in his shirt. He smelled of laundry soap and man. She wanted to convince herself alcohol had nothing to do with the reaction.
“I’m drunk,” she said.
“A little hazy, but shhh. Dance with me.”
You know, that would probably be a good idea. Her head weighed a ton and her legs had turned to the consistency of Jell-O…shhh, she was dancing. Not able to place the song, she let him rock her to the beat.
Sam closed her eyes just in case the room started to spin. She breathed him in again and he smelled better than before. She wrapped her arms around his neck and sighed. In the back of Sam’s mind she knew this moment would end. She would have to admit Evan the IT Geek and she just weren’t made to fall in love.
He had a thing for computers and being a little too bossy. She’d spotted him at least once with a pocket protector for goodness sakes. But, oh, she ran her palms down his shoulders. The cotton glided beneath her hands and so did the muscles under the shirt. Being her hands were making there way farther down, she made a silent promise to listen to her friends next time. Scotch was not the cure all for a semi-broken heart. She also noted, lifting computers could afford you with sinew muscles that felt wonderful beneath a cotton shirt.
Finally the music penetrated through and she hummed with it. At this point it could have all just been in her head, but Evan rocked with her as the notes wrapped her in their embrace. His smell clouded her judgment even more. She opened her eyes, pulled back, lifted on tip-toes and kissed him.
The whiskey tasted different, better on his lips. Oh, God. She was kissing Evan. She liked kissing Evan. She wanted more of Evan than his mouth, wet and hot, on hers. Sam’s lips parted on a soft moan, and the world did spin. His tongue brushed along her bottom lip. She hungered not for more Scotch, but for him.
At some point they’d stopped rocking, but the world still didn’t feel steady. Her heart pounded in her ears, but she kept riding the wave of sensations Evan’s mouth created. Minutes later they came up for air. The secret joke still hadn’t returned a sparkle in his eyes, but this time the shine had everything to do with desire.
“My place or yours?” she purred.
He lowered his head again, kissing Sam until her chest burned from the rise of passion. She saw the apology in his eyes before he spoke. “I’ll get you a cab.”
With his comment still lingering in the air, he walked away. Sam stood there on the makeshift dance floor. Makeshift ’cause they’d danced in a space between the stereo and tables. She hadn’t noticed, which meant she was sobering up. Sam had been cast aside twice in one day, had to be a Valentine’s Day record. She jerked her head, left then right, to shake off the remnants of Evan clouding her thoughts, and came to the same conclusion she had earlier— sobriety was overrated.
*****
Sam placed the cold towel over her eyes. Saturday hadn’t brought any more clarity on what happened the night before. Only two things made sense: One, she was definitely over the ex. Two, Valentine’s day could burn in hell from now until the end of time. Add those to Samantha’s wisdom. But she still was thinking about kissing Evan again. She wanted to know how and why he had ended up so into her.
Me.
Fixing someone’s work computer is no way to start a love that will stand the test of time. Really, was it love at first control-alt-delete? Sam went through every memory she had of Evan. Only two came to mind outside of last night.
The first time they had been introduced at work. She closed her eyes bringing the memory up, until that day played like a movie in her mind. She’d smiled at him. Probably the only real one she’d given him. The sparkle had been there too. They’d chatted about work and that’s it.
She sat up when the second memory made its way through the fuzz of the night before. They had lunch. Not just the two of them, but the whole department. He sat next to her. She squeezed her eyes tighter to see that day again.
Evan leaned over to her. “I have the sudden urge to tell our boss to remove his nose from the head guy’s ass.”
Sam had placed the napkin over her mouth, having thought the same, but would have never dared to say it out loud though. “Just pass him your napkin to wipe the brown off his nose. He’s been doing it for years, and has axed people in the past for mentioning it. Let your six months pass first that way you can at least get unemployment.”
The memory faded. She couldn’t remember any other detail about that lunch. She did recall having spent most of that lunch behind the stupid napkin, trading insulting quips about their boss. And, then he became Evan the IT Geek.
Someone knocked on the door, she groaned and kept the towel on her head. At this hour it could only be her neighbor to chastise Sam about stomping or showering while normal people slept.
She swung the door open, “Wha—”
The towel dropped from her head. Evan. Her eyes took all of him in. He’d hadn’t shaved, but the scruff gave him a broody, bad-boy appearance. His hair was cut close to his head. How had she thought him just an uber-geek?
She didn’t know. He looked better without the beer goggles. And then the shock wore off. Oh, God. She slammed the door in his face.
“Give me a moment.” She ran a hand over her hair and winced. “Don’t leave,” she yelled over her shoulder and ran to the bathroom.
One glance in the mirror confirmed her worst nightmare. Sam didn’t just look like she had spent a night in a bar, but an all night bar brawl. She brushed her hair, teeth, and grabbed a sweatshirt she’d thrown on the bathroom floor.
Sam double-checked her breath, and went back to the door. She wiped damp palms on the sweats and tried not to think about the bleach stains. He leaned against the stairwell, the same one he walked her up last night. He hadn’t left and she didn’t know why she wanted him to stay in the first place. A hot body and incredible kissing skills didn’t make for a relationship. Not to mention, she’d just got out of a
relationship.
She opened her mouth to speak, Evan held up his hand. “When something is really funny you snort with laughter. You wrinkle your forehead when conflicted, like you are doing now. You bite your pens during meetings. I’ve never seen you drink coffee, and you were always nice to me. Even when you thought I was Evan the IT Geek.”
“Um.” She didn’t have scotch to blame this time. Sam swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat. She should have been scared he noticed all those things, but only her friends knew Sam like that. And, they’d known her for years.
“Well, I don’t know anything about you to make this like a Lifetime special moment. You know, when the couple gets together.”
He didn’t move toward her as she wished he would. The feelings of vulnerability were ridiculous. She had nothing to lose, but everything to gain.
“I’m not asking for your hand in marriage, so you don’t have to look scared.”
No, he wasn’t. “You’re asking me to trust you?”
Something she had went on at length the night before. Stupid, semi-drunken stupor. Just the thought of getting back on the relationship roller coaster had her heart pounding.
He smirked. “And, can I trust you?”
“Of course, you can.” Sam paused when that beautiful smirk crossed his face. Okay, maybe he did know me a little bit. She tilted her head, took him again. Maybe she hadn’t wanted to see past the pocket protector. Didn’t mean she hadn’t. More memories flooded through her brain.
She smiled back at him. “You hate mornings.”
“I do.”
Something else hit her. Why hadn’t she wanted to see it? “You mutter to yourself when you’re neck deep in work. It’s kind of cute.”
He lifted a brow. “Kind of?”
She snorted and a hand went up to her nose. Well, hell. “Ok. Very.”
“That’s it?” he asked.
No, but it didn’t make for long-lasting love, but it made a foundation. One that stood on steadier ground than anything else she’d ever experienced. “You don’t kick people when they’re down.”
