"Will you just sleep already?" Jack screamed. "God, this isn't some sacred ritual, you know."
She slipped underneath the covers hurriedly and turned onto her side. Vincent climbed in on the other side and after switching off the lamp, he settled onto his left side. "Good night, Sam."
"Night."
"Good night, my dear lovely Sammy. Don't let the bed bugs bite," Will called out.
"Yeah, yeah, he wishes you a good night too, Will. But if I were you, I'd be the one who'd worry about bugs."
"Gee, I love you too, Vince."
After a few more shifting and awkward bumping of feet, Sammy finally settled down. She drifted off to sleep with the background accompaniment of three distinct snores.
* * *
She woke up in his arms. Opening her eyes to Vincent's peaceful, sleeping face, she'd nearly had a heart attack. Then he tightened his arms and rested his forehead against hers, snorting slightly in his sleep and she couldn't help herself from smiling. She'd never looked at his sleeping face this closely, but from this proximity, he looked adorable, like a disgruntled child. She tried to ease herself away, but his arms seemed to clamp down on her tighter.
Resigned, she carefully maneuvered her face to rest in the nape of his neck and she suddenly went dizzy. Whoa. Vince is right. I could get high off his scent. A lock of his black hair fell onto her nose and she stifled a giggle. She wrinkled her nose and tried to blow it away but when he shifted slightly, she immediately stopped. He buried his nose into her own red tresses and mumbled, "Shush, pillow ..." He sighed happily before snoring again.
Sammy bit her lip. The guy can sleep through an earthquake. She closed her eyes tightly, figuring she might get some more sleep. Just for this brief time, she can rest in his arms and forget about everything else. Let her be selfish for once. He was like a big . . . huge . . . pillow . . . no . . . a big . . . huge . . . aromatherapy . . . heated . . . pillow . . . I think . . . I think if I could just stay like this, then . . .
Well, that was before he shifted and his hand dropped down ... right onto her chest.
She kicked him off the bed before she could think.
"Wh – WHOA!" Vincent tumbled off the side of the bed right on top of Will.
Will awoke with a gasp and wheezed with pain. "What the hell?" He felt like an anchor had just dropped on him. Then he noticed who the anchor was. He grinned. "You know, Vince, if you really wanted me that much, all you had to do was ask nicely."
Sammy sat up straight and stared down at them in shock. Her heart pounded furiously and blood was rising to her cheeks again. Even though she had bounded her chest and wore two shirts . . . still. Even though he was asleep and couldn't have done it on purpose, it was like an instinctive reaction.
Jack asked groggily, "Wh – what happened? Vince, what the hell are you doing? Are you straddling Will?"
Vincent turned red and snarled, "No! I'm just trying to get up." He struggled to pull himself upward without touching the boy underneath him.
"And just what were you doing on top of him in the first place?"
"I don't know. One minute, I was dreaming that I was holding –" Vincent blushed again. I dreamt I was holding . . . Samantha. No, not Samantha. Sam. Oh god. I need a psychiatrist."Never mind. All I know is that . . . Sam suddenly kicked me off the bed?" He stared at the redhead inquisitively. "Did you?" A sudden realization hit him. Oh lord, did I do something embarrassing in my sleep? Did I say his name? Does he know I'm having dreams about him? Oh, I'm going to be sick. I have dreams about him. That sounds loony even to me. He tried to maintain a calm composure.
"Ah, uh, I, um, I thrash a lot in my sleep. Sorry!" She forced a laugh, clutching the covers.
The room was silent and Vincent had to smack Will's fingers from inching up his legs.
"We should go now. Maybe?" Sammy ventured. Vincent nodded.
* * *
After a quick breakfast at McDonald's, Vincent drove the rest of the way. He kept sending glances over at Sam. The redhead seemed especially quiet all morning. Vincent's fingers clutched the wheel tightly. "Hey Sam … slept well yesterday?" he asked cautiously.
Sam turned to fixate her jade eyes on him. "I slept fine. Why? Did you . . . not sleep well yesterday?" she asked, equally as wary.
"Fine. Just fine. Slept like a log."
"Good. Me too."
"Great."
Loud snores from the backseat drew their attention. They smiled at the scene; Will slept, head resting on Jack's shoulder as the other boy snored. Sammy chuckled, "They look cute."
"Jack's gonna have a fit when he wakes up, though."
They laughed softly. Sammy suddenly felt like they were parents looking in on their rowdy kids. Her cheeks stained pink as she sat back. "You should look at the road again."
"Yeah, wouldn't want an accident or something . . ." Vincent agreed, tightening his hands on the wheel.
* * *
They pulled into the drive soon after and Sammy's eyes widened. The house – no, the mansion – was enormous. A fountain in the figure of a joyful cherub was covered in snow, barren in the winter cold. Steps led up to the intricately carved doorway. Large windows behind semi-circular balconies allowed sunlight to filter in. A row of marble columns stood before the whitewashed walls. Impeccably kept bushes lined the sides and she could faintly make out a large garden with ivy covered fences and a conservatory of colorful roses around the back of the home.
"Wow," she opened and closed her mouth.
Vincent grinned lopsidedly as he pulled into the driveway. A middle-aged man in a suit waited in front of the steps, tilting his head respectfully. "Young Master, welcome home."
He grinned, "Nice to be back, Sterns." He tossed the keys to the man and instructed him to bring in the luggage.
Will yawned lazily. "We here already? Jeez, this place hasn't changed at all, has it?"
Vincent smiled, "Mom is intention on preserving the historic value or whatever."
Jack woke up then and nearly screamed. "Get off me, Will!"
While they bickered, someone suddenly called out, "Sam!"
Sammy turned around in surprise to see . . . Tristan.
The blonde boy grinned at her from across the street with his hands in his pockets. He stood before an equally impressive home with pale buttery yellow walls. Willow trees swayed gently besides the house, offering shade. She could make out a showcase of white lilies and golden carnations behind the foggy windows of an adjacent greenhouse. Tristan waved jauntily at her.
"Tristan?" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
"I live here!" He called out to her as he jabbed his thumb behind him.
She could only blink.
Vincent snapped at him, "Harland, you had better stay on your side! I'm warning you! You take even one step over the middle of the road and I'll sue you for trespassing!"
"Yeah, yeah. Same goes for you, Grenford!" Tristan rolled his eyes.
Sammy blinked again. "Do not tell me . . ."
"Yeah, Vince and Tristan have quite a history together." Will clambered out of the car with a grin, shaking his head.
"Please, don't tell me . . ."
"Yep," Will sighed, throwing an arm around her. "They're neighbors."
Chapter Ten
Sammy walked into Vincent's mansion in a daze. "Neighbors? They're neightbors?" She repeated for the umpteenth time.
Jack smiled amusedly. "Sam appears to be having a problem getting over that fact."
Vincent sighed tiredly, "Yes, we're neighbors and yes, I'd as soon as rig my yard with mines to blow him up than invite him over for anything. Understand?"
"How is that even possible? How –" She was cut off at the sound of high heels clicking on the marble floors toward them. She turned and her eyes turned to the size of tennis balls. A gorgeous woman with shoulder length black hair and pale gray eyes strolled gracefully up to them. She looked so refined, so beautiful, Sammy immediately felt self-conscious even though there wasn't a
ny reason she should be. It's not like I could even compare to her - especially in guy mode.
The woman continued to walk daintily, a warm welcoming smile on her face. Sammy was completely in awe, but for some strange reason, she had the funny feeling that the guys next to her were all edging backward ever so subtly.
The dark-haired woman reached them and with the same loving smile, slugged Vincent in the gut. Sammy leapt back in shock.
"Danielle! What the hell?" Vincent roared, rubbing his stomach.
The woman's eyes flashed and she leaned forward, jabbing her index finger into his chest and although she had to tilt up her head to talk to the boy, Sammy could have sworn the woman could tower over all of them. Danielle snapped, "What the hell is wrong with you? Not calling home and driving in this kind of weather! You worried our parents so much, they started bugging me! Me! You're seventeen now! Grow up!"
Vincent bellowed, "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself so don't trouble yourself, YOU OLD HAG!"
Danielle went for his throat. "I'LL SHOW YOU WHO'S AN OLD HAG!"
While the beautiful woman was busy throttling Vincent, Sammy had edged close to Will. The boy smiled reassuringly at her. "Don't worry. It's how they show their love and affection."
"Uh …"
"Meet Danielle Amelia Grenford," Will waved a hand at the woman. "Vincent's older sister."
* * *
"Hi, I'm Danielle," the woman smiled sheepishly as she handed Sammy a glass of orange juice. "I'm sorry you had to see me fighting with that idiot over there." Vincent sat glumly in the corner of the kitchen, rubbing his jaw as he threw his sister a dirty look.
Sammy smiled back. "I'm Sam Westlane. You can call me Sammy."
Danielle leaned back against the kitchen table, hands perched on its edges. "So how is school so far?"
"Great. There are a lot of friendly people there."
Will beamed and draped an arm around Sammy. "Like me."
Danielle raised an eyebrow and then raised the other when she caught sight of her brother's darkening features.
The butler, Sterns, suddenly appeared in the doorway. "Young master, miss, there's a phone call for Mr. Sam Westlane."
"Huh?" Sammy blinked in surprise. Who would be calling her?
"Excuse me." She stood up and followed the man out. Accepting the receiver, she spoke hesitantly, "Hello?"
"Hey, Sam."
"Tristan?" she exclaimed.
"Shhhh, don't talk so loud. Grenford would hear."
"Oh, sorry." Bewildered, she lowered her voice. "What's the matter?"
"Just wanted to invite you over," he said with this low chuckle. "You busy?"
"Um, no, I'm not busy … I think I can come over in a bit."
"Great! I want you to –"
She braced the receiver in the crook of her neck and absently turned around to find Vincent hovering behind her. Sammy stifled her shriek. With a grumpy expression, he asked, "Who's that?"
"Um, ah, Tristan?" she answered in a small tone.
His dark eyes flickered with what seemed to be irritation. He nodded curtly. "Oh, okay." Then he gently pried her fingers off the phone and slammed it down. He narrowed his eyes at her, hand still pressing down hard on the phone as if he wanted to crush it. "What did he want?"
"He wanted me to come over –"
"Yeah, right," he scoffed. "You don't have to listen to him."
"But –"
"It's okay. Don't go."
"He's just –"
"No -"
Like Vincent, Danielle also mastered the trick of materializing out of the blue. Slapping the back of her brother's head swiftly, the woman then threw an arm around his neck almost like a friendly embrace, if Vincent wasn't choking. "Of course you can go! This isn't a prison here. You're free to visit any of your friends." She smiled cheerfully.
Vincent snapped, "It's Tristan!"
"Oh, him! I've always liked that boy. Of course you have to go!"
Vincent's eyes narrowed into slits and he stared sullenly at his sister. Backstabbing little -
Danielle was already propelling Sammy to the door. "Have fun now! Send my regards to Tristan! Toodles!" She closed the door.
"Next time I'm talking to my friends," Vincent seethed. "Would you kindly butt out?"
"Oh, so he's your friend?"
Vincent folded his arms and stared at his sister. Sometimes, he thought she had been dropped on the head as a baby. "No, I just saw him on the streets and decided that he'll make a nice pet. Of course he's my friend!"
"Uh-huh," she nodded skeptically in that infuriating way which always made him feel that she knew something he didn't know.
"What?"
"Whatever do you mean?" She cocked his head at him.
"Why the hell are you giving me that look?"
Her eyes widened innocently, "Look? What look?"
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Sister. Related by blood. Supposed to love her and all that crap. And also, you don't want to go to jail for killing her.
She smiled at him again. He rolled his eyes and started to turn away. "Why didn't you tell me you were gay?" she called after him.
He whirled back around. His eyes darted to the doorway to make sure Jack and Will couldn't overhear and then closed the space between him and his sister in two steps. "I'm. Not. GAY!" He gritted his teeth.
"Huh. Could've fooled me."
"If this is another one of your sadistic jokes, it's not funny! He's my roommate! He's a he!"
"With the way you're acting around Sammy . . ." she sighed amusedly, as if she hadn't heard him. "It's kinda obvious you're head over heels, dear Vinnie."
"Head over heels?" He snorted, hissing furiously in a low whisper. "I'm going to throw you head over heels out that window."
Danielle laughed and his blood boiled. "You're so cute when you get mad, Vinnie." She stood on tiptoes to ruffle his hair and he jerked away.
He retorted insolently, "Stop treating me like a kid. You're only two years older than me, Dani."
She folded her arms and grinned broadly. "Two years makes all the difference. Besides, even though you're not a kid in body, you still are in mind."
He resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at her. "Shut up."
* * *
DING DONG!
Sammy bounced on her heels nervously, not quite sure what to expect. She turned around as the large intricately carved oak door swung open. A girl with long light blonde hair and dark blue eyes stared at her.
Sammy smiled tentatively. "Hi, I'm Sam. Um, Tristan asked me to come over?"
The girl continued to stare at her. Sammy shifted uneasily, glancing up at the doorway. I didn't get the wrong house, did I?
"What are you doing?"
The girl turned around and Tristan appeared behind her. He was dressed in a loose sweatshirt and a pair of black jeans. He looked up and a bright smile lit up his face. "Sam! You're here! Have you met my sister? This is Carrie."
Sammy smiled. Carrie blushed and fidgeted, her fingers fumbling along the edge of her white turtleneck. The girl ducked her head low and rushed off. "Is she okay?"
Tristan shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. "Carrie's always been a little shy. It also doesn't help that our mother died when she was so young and we rarely see each other."
Sammy nodded as she stepped in. They started for the stairs. "How old is she?"
"Two years younger. She goes to an all girls' school. Here we are! Prepare to be amazed by my very own sanctuary." They headed through the spacious hallways, lit up by small lily-shaped light fixtures, and he swung the door open to a cozy room with high ceilings and a roaring fire crackling away in the fireplace. A bed was all the way to the right and what appeared to be a study area, with a bookshelf and a table strewn with books, papers, and a laptop, was directly adjacent to the fireplace.
She smiled. "Your room?"
"Yup. Hungry? I could ask Rosie to make something."
"Rosie?
"
"The cook."
"Oh."
"She's great. My father was never at home because of work so she took care of us ever since we were babies. She loves Carrie like her own daughter, but Carrie never seems to bring home any other close friends. She worries that my sister's a tad anti-social." He frowned, crossing his arms. He sighed and turned to her with a small smile. "How about I go get some drinks and snacks, huh? Make yourself comfortable, okay?"
Tristan was out the door before she could nod. Sammy drifted toward the bookshelves. She smiled at the picture of a toothless blonde baby sitting in a crib and then giggled at another picture of what seemed to be a five years old Tristan holding a bawling three years old Carrie glumly. He had curls when he was little. That's so cute!
Then she stopped in front of a photo of a woman with blonde curls, dressed in a beautiful silvery blue gown. The lady smiled gently, waving a gloved hand at the camera. This must be his mother. She looks so nice. Sammy moved on to another picture and her heart throbbed. It was a black and white photo of Tristan's mother - only this time, the vivacity in the woman's eyes was completely gone. She stared blankly at the camera. The lack of color only accentuated the limpness in her hair and the absolute emptiness of expression.
A sound behind her made her jump and she spun around to see that Carrie had come into the room. The girl's eyes slid away from her toward the photo. They stood in awkward silence for a minute and then to Sammy's surprise, Carrie said softly, almost as if she was thinking out loud, "Sometimes I wonder, if she had been a little stronger, if she had held on for a little longer, maybe she would have survived."
Carrie glanced back at Sam, eyes oddly dull. "It's not that I blame her … well, maybe I do ... a small part of me inside. Do you think that maybe if I wasn't such a kid and if I had pushed her, supported her more, she would have ... wanted to live?"
Sammy didn't know what to say. The girl sounded like a lost child. She took a step closer and the girl stumbled away, startled. Hesitating, Sammy reached out and touched Carrie's arm gently. "You can't think like this, Carrie. Is there ever any use in asking what if? You'd never be able to have a future if you keep focusing on the past. Believe me, I know."
False Facades (Best Sellers: Best Romance/Humor ) Page 8
