by Lane Hart
“Jesus, Sam,” are the first words he speaks, and I’m not sure how to take them. “I think you ruined me.”
“Sorry?” I offer hesitantly.
Bracing his weight on the palm next to my head, Grant lifts his head to look down at me. I relax when I see the lazy smile on his face. “You sure you were a virgin?” he teases.
“Yep. Pretty sure.”
“That was incredible, sweetheart,” he says, leaning down to kiss me briefly. “Your ankle okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you okay?”
“Oh yeah. Just a little…sore and sweaty.”
“Good,” he says. “How about a bath? It’ll help to soak.”
“Okay,” I agree.
“Will you stay with me tonight?” he asks.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” he answers, and I don’t try to talk him out of it.
Chapter Twenty
Grant
Last night was risky. Dangerous even.
But I couldn’t resist Sam.
I missed her, and it had been too long since I had seen her, touched her, kissed her…
It’s official; I’ve lost my fucking mind for a high school girl.
With the rising sun outside the hotel window comes the worries I should have had yesterday. Last night I shouldn’t have asked her to stay in my room. Sam could’ve snuck back to hers in the darkness with a much smaller chance of someone seeing us together.
But the idea of her leaving was…unacceptable.
After all these weeks, we finally had one single night to be together, and I took it. I know it was foolish, yet I can’t seem to regret it, having Sam sleep in my arms, waking up with her coconut scent and beautiful face next to mine…
Only now, the later the morning gets, the more likely I know we could be seen by someone.
“Sam, baby. Time to wake up,” I tell her, rubbing my hand up and down her bare arm.
We slept naked, wrapped around each other but only had sex the one time when I took her virginity. I knew she would be sore for a few days, so I didn’t try to get inside her again, even if I wanted to. Want to, as in currently, with an incessant case of morning wood poking Sam in her stomach.
“Sam,” I say again, and this time she lets out a small moan that does nothing to help my situation down below.
“I don’t wanna go,” she murmurs, snuggling tighter to my chest. “Let’s stay here.”
“That would be nice, but you have a bus to catch, and I’ve got patients to get back to,” I remind her, pushing her hair away from her face so I can see it more clearly. “Maybe I can see you tonight?”
“No,” she says before suddenly pushing herself up.
“No?” I repeat in surprise.
“We can’t, Grant. Someone could find out, see me at your house…It’s too risky,” she tells me with a shake of her adorable bedhead, saying what should be my lines.
“Fine,” I grumble, knowing she’s right but hating to hear it aloud. “But I do need you to come to the office so I can treat your ankle, off the books. And this sneaking around ends when you graduate. Then you’re mine, and I don’t give a shit who knows.”
“Fine,” she agrees with a smile. “I’m gonna head back to my room to grab a quick shower and brush my teeth.”
“I’ll miss you,” I tell as I watch her get out of bed gingerly and redress in her track uniform. “How many more weeks until graduation?”
“Well, there’s two weeks to prom, so I think there are five weeks to graduation,” Sam says, sitting on the edge of the bed to put on her shoes.
“How’s your ankle?” I ask as I get out of bed to go around and kneel to check it. “Let me see…wait. Did you say prom?” I ask, freezing in front of her.
“Yeah, senior prom. It’s at the country club in Greensboro.”
“You’re going?” I exclaim.
“Of course I’m going. It’s my only prom, so I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I have this gorgeous red dress with a slit up to here,” she informs me, indicating her upper thigh. “And there are diamonds across the top and down the side.”
“Sam, back up. Who the hell are you going with?” I ask, praying she’s going stag.
“Oh, with Hunter,” she answers, biting her bottom lip. “He knew I didn’t have a date and was sweet enough to take pity on me. The girls at school have been glaring daggers at me ever since…”
“So, you’re going…together…as just friends?” I ask in disbelief. How can she not realize the kid is in love with her?
“Uh-huh,” Sam answers with a nod. “I told you, Hunter and I have been best friends since kindergarten.”
And he’s probably been in love with you since. I bite my tongue to keep from saying it aloud. If she hasn’t realized the boy is head over heels for her, I’m sure as fuck not going to be the one to enlighten her.
“Well, I better go,” Sam says as she gets to her feet slowly, testing out her ankle.
“You gonna be okay to walk on it?” I ask.
“Yeah, sure,” she replies, hobbling over to the door.
“Take the bandage off and ice it for as long as you can after your shower,” I tell her.
“Yes, Dr. Matthews,” she turns around and sasses.
I grab her face and kiss her smirking lips until she’s breathless. Finally, I let her go, and she fumbles for the door knob. “See you later,” she says as she takes a step outside.
Fuck.
“Wait! Let me check –” I start to say, wanting to make sure the coast is clear, but it’s too late. Sam shuts the door in my face as she begins talking to someone.
Someone with a deep voice.
Goddamn it.
…
Sam
“Where the hell have you been?”
Hunter’s booming voice sounds from beside me, startling me; and I do the first thing I can think of, pull Grant’s door shut behind me and hope Hunter doesn’t figure out where I’m coming from.
“Hey,” I turn to say to him and am greeted by the angriest look I’ve ever seen on his handsome face. Actually, he’s never been angry at me. “Oh shit,” I mutter when it hits me. With everything that happened with Grant, I missed watching Hunter in the finals last night. “I’m so, so sorry, Hunter.”
“I can’t believe you weren’t there! You’re supposed to be my best friend!”
“God, Hunter. I know that, and I wish I could go back…” I shake my head as tears burn my eyes. “How did you do?”
“First,” he says through clenched teeth.
“First?” I exclaim. “Oh my God, that’s amazing. I’m so proud of you!” I tell him, throwing my arms around his neck to hug him, but he doesn’t reciprocate the gesture. He just stands there like a tall, frozen statue.
When I pull away from him, his eyes lock on my neck before they slowly make their way down. I try not to flinch under his gaze. Did Grant leave marks on me?
“Why are you still wearing your clothes from yesterday?” he asks.
Oh, that.
“I was so tired I feel asleep when I got back to my room,” I lie.
“Yeah, but your room is over there,” he says, pointing clear across the courtyard.
Shit.
“Right,” I say. “I – I was out looking for you.”
“Well, I wasn’t in that room, was I? So, whose room did you just come out of, Sam?” he asks, his deep voice booming.
“I…I…um…” Shit, shit, shit. Nothing is coming to me; and before I can come up with a lie, Hunter pounds his knuckles on Grant’s hotel door. My heart rate is off the charts, and I’m pretty sure I’m gonna hyperventilate when the door opens.
“Hey, Hunter. Sam. You need anything else for your ankle?” Grant asks.
Honesty mixed into the lie. Yes!
“No, no, I’m on my way back to my room to ice it and just ran into Hunter,” I explain.
“What’s wrong with your ankle?” Hunter asks, his eyes lowering to the ACE band
age. “Damn, did you sprain it again?”
“Yeah, right before the race,” I admit truthfully. “I propped it up in my room to try and get the swelling to go down and fell asleep, so I came over to have Gr…Dr. Matthews examine it this morning before we leave.”
“Shit, I’m sorry, Sam. Are you okay to walk?” Hunter asks, his face full of concern, his anger now absent.
Whew. He bought it. Which is good because some of it was true.
“Yeah, I just need to grab a quick shower and try to ice it before the bus leaves.”
“Oh, right. Sorry,” Hunter says with a shake of his head, then glances between me and Grant, who I’m happy to see is nearly dressed in clean, pressed clothes, other than the undone tie hanging around his neck.
“I feel awful for missing the finals, Hunter,” I tell him sincerely. “Dr. Matthews, did you get to see the finals?”
“I did. Congrats on first,” Grant says with a smile, offering Hunter his hand to shake. There’s no way he knew that unless he could hear our conversation. I bet Grant was supposed to be there and we were both distracted.
“Thanks,” Hunter says.
‘Well, unless you two need anything else, I need to get on the road,” Grant says to us.
“Sure, thanks again, Dr. Matthews,” I reply with a wave before limping my ass across the courtyard so I can try and remember how to breathe again.
Chapter Twenty-One
Sam
THE PRESENT
I’ve just finished breastfeeding Adalyn when there’s a knock on the door.
After burping my sweet girl and wiping her face with a rag, I lift her up on my shoulder to see who the heck it could be. If we’re home alone, I never open it without looking out the peephole first. And when I do this time, I stumble backward at the sight of him.
What the hell is he doing here?
Last night, every time I closed my eyes I saw his face, smelled his clean scent and grieved for what we had. Not that it’s ever been easy without him; but after seeing him at the prison, all of the old memories came rushing back like an avalanche of emotions.
“Sam, I saw your car in the lot. I know you’re in there, so please open the door,” Grant pleads from the other side.
Shit.
I don’t know what the hell to do! When I saw him yesterday, I thought that would be it until we were forced to see each other in court. Never in a million years did I think he would show up here. How did he know where we lived?
The damn envelopes!
Well, that was stupid of me.
Adalyn starts to fuss as I stand frozen with indecision.
“Please, Sam. Let me see her,” Grant says through the door. Looking down at my daughter’s sweet face, I cave because I couldn’t imagine someone keeping her from me, especially not every day of her entire short life.
With a deep breath to try and settle my frayed nerves, I turn the deadbolt and pull the door open.
“Thank you,” Grant says to me before his eyes swing over to his daughter. “Wow…she’s…real,” he mutters.
And I know he doesn’t mean the statement as though he thought I was lying, but that seeing Adalyn in person rather than hearing me talk about her makes it all real to him for the first time.
Clearing the emotion from my throat, I’m finally able to say, “Her name’s Adalyn. She was born February twenty-sixth, and she’s five weeks old.”
Grant’s trembling hand comes up, and he hesitates a second before placing it gently on her back.
“Can I…can I hold her?” he asks, and I have to look away from the tears streaking down his face behind his glasses.
“Yeah, um, you can come in and sit in the living room,” I tell him.
I hear the door shut behind me. And then when Grant takes a seat on the sofa, I lower his daughter into his arms for the very first time.
“Wow, she’s…beautiful,” Grant says as he stares down at her. “Is she healthy? Did you have any trouble during the pregnancy?” he quickly glances up to ask me before his blue eyes return to his daughter.
“She’s completely healthy; and other than about six months of morning sickness, the pregnancy was fine,” I tell him, leaving out the horrible depression and loneliness.
“I’m still in shock,” he responds with a shake of his head. “The thought never crossed my mind that we…”
“Well, if you had opened my letters, you would’ve known before she was born,” I remind him, crossing my arms over my chest.
“I wasn’t allowed to have any contact with you while the case was open,” he says, which I of course knew.
“I sent the first letter after you were sentenced,” I explain.
“And I should’ve read it.” I’m surprised Grant actually admits that. “But I was afraid that the letters would say that you still loved me and would wait for me.”
“They said that too,” I reply, sitting down next to him. There’s no reason to deny my feelings now that he has all the letters and has likely read them, or will eventually.
“What sort of life could I give you? Either of you?” he asks with a clenched jaw. “I’ll never practice again. In fact, I’ll be lucky if anyone hires me now that I’m a felon. Oh, and once I go register as a sex offender tomorrow, everyone will think I’m some pervert.”
“You are sort of a pervert,” I can’t help but remark.
“Correction,” he says. “They’ll assume I’m a child molesting pervert. Do you know how many laws there are about where I can live or work, how close I can live to schools and parks? And that’s not just for a year or two; that’s for at least the next ten years!”
“You’re not a sex offender, and it was stupid of you to take that plea!” I tell him before I remember not to raise my voice in front of Adalyn when she startles.
“I did it for you,” Grant tells me softly.
“Me?” I huff. “Did you think I wanted you to be locked up for ten months?”
“No,” he answers with a shake of his head. “I did it to protect you from the fallout. It wasn’t just rumors. They had evidence of us together.”
“What evidence?” I ask in confusion. “How? My parents?” I’ve always assumed it was them who found out and turned Grant in, and we haven’t exactly had much of a relationship since I told them I was pregnant and still going off to school.
“I have my theories,” Grant says. “And it probably wasn’t your parents. But the point is, taking the plea kept you anonymous. If I had gone to trial, everyone in town would’ve found out not just your name but every sordid detail of what we did together.”
“Oh,” I mutter in understanding.
So, my parents and half the people in town would’ve known for certain that I was sleeping with Grant. Even so, I would’ve lived through the humiliation, especially if Grant hadn’t been convicted. “That would’ve sucked,” I admit. “But then I could’ve gotten on the stand and explained that you didn’t do anything wrong.”
Grant’s shaking his head before I finish talking. “It wouldn’t have worked. The law is the law. I broke it, and they had all the proof they needed. Age doesn’t matter when it’s a student and school personnel. I knew that, and I was with you anyway.”
“There had to be some other option –”
“There wasn’t, and I’m sorry, Sam. I wish I could’ve been here with you and her both. You’re amazing for being able to take care of her on your own and go to school,” he says just as I hear a key turning in the lock.
“Thanks, but I haven’t done it alone,” I admit. “Hunter’s been helping me with tuition and everything. He lives here too,” I warn Grant before the door opens and my best friend walks in.
“What the fuck is he doing here?” Hunter asks, but I don’t get a chance to explain because Grant hands me our daughter and lunges for him.
“You son of a bitch!” Grant exclaims before his fist pulls back and slams into the side of Hunter’s surprised face.
“Grant, no!” I shout, staying b
ack out of the way to avoid their swinging fists with the baby in my arms. Jogging down the hall, I place Adalyn down safely in her crib so that I can go back to try and make sure the two men don’t kill each other. I get back just in time to see Grant shove Hunter and tell him, “You’re not worth it, you piece of shit.”
“Grant, I think you should leave,” I tell him, fuming at how he has the nerve to come over here and pick a fight with Hunter in front of our daughter the first time he’s met her!
“This is all his fault, but I have to leave while he gets to stay here, living with you and my daughter? Playing house for ten months while I was locked in a cell? No fucking way!” Grant shouts, his chest heaving as he scowls at Hunter.
“What are you talking about?” I ask. “This is my fault and yours, but Hunter didn’t have anything to do with what happened!”
I knew Grant was jealous of Hunter and possessive, but I can’t believe he would get upset because he’s been helping me.
“You’re wrong, Sam,” Grant looks over and tells me. “And if you give me a chance, I’ll tell you all about what a fucking snake he is.”
“He’s delusional,” Hunter replies. “For ten months he ignored you, Sam. He doesn’t care about you or Adalyn. Never has. So throw his ass out and call the cops.”
“I bet you have the Edson PD on your speed dial, don’t you?” Grant asks Hunter. “You’re so pathetic; you knew that the only way you could ever have her was to get me out of the picture, to send me off to prison.”
“Grant, stop!” I tell him. “Hunter and I are just friends who live together, so I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The father of my child throws his head back and laughs good and long at that statement.
“Wow. Even with me gone and living under the same roof as her you still didn’t have a chance,” Grant says to Hunter. “But guess what. I’m out now, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“I asked you to leave,” I remind him, hearing Adalyn fussing and needing to go get her.
“Give me a chance to explain, to tell you everything; and then if you want me to leave, I will,” Grant promises. “It all started at prom. I shouldn’t have gone, but I couldn’t stand the thought of you with anyone else, especially him.”
