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I looked down at our hands, watching how Sam grazed his thumb over my knuckles. Something rough brushed against my first knuckle—was that a callus? Right—hedidmention that he was a musician. What kind of musician, I wondered? That callus had to be from strumming guitar strings…
I swept my curiosity away too, knowing that curiosity was the seed of infatuation. This was nothing more than an experience—no, not even that.
It was an experiment.
Curiously, the chronic nervousness in my gut was absent.
I felt like the owner of an unruly pet left home alone, knowing the animal was ripping through trash bags somewhere…
I glanced at Sam in the dark and watched the warped stripes from the orange streetlights slide across the contours of his face. Somehow, even idle like this, Sam looked smug and confident. He carried the air of a cat that knew it had gotten away with something, and no matter how much you searched, you’d never find out what it was.
But it wasn’t malicious. It wasn’t devious.
It was playful.
“Here we are,” Sam said in a singsong voice.
I looked out the car window and saw ahouse—not a crappy apartment like the one Effie and I shared—but an honest-to-Godhouse.
It was a sleek, modern fortress of clean lines, stone blocks, and long rectangular windows. A glass staircase stretched from the driveway to the front door, gleaming silver in the light of the full moon.Plants arched around the pathway to the door, forming a tunnel of greenery.
It looked like one of those million-dollar houses I’d see on TV, back when I was watching it with—
“You livehere?”I asked as the Lyft rolled to a stop.
“No, I live in the bushes out front,” Sam said with a playful smirk.
A wave of stupidness washed over me and I went quiet.
Sam got out of the car, dashed to the other side, and opened my door for me like a gentleman.
As soon as he took my hand, my doubt vanished into the cool night air.
Our feet struck the ground in tandem; a charged, hurried percussion.
A fog of cotton candy and giddy confetti clouded through my brain. I wasn’t even buzzed anymore, but I was high as hell.
Was this what seduction felt like?
Thrills of excitement lunged through me with each step. I couldn’t wait to get into that house with him. Into his bed. To feel his mouth all over me.
Because when I was with Sam, I didn’t feel like a nervous wreck teetering on the edge of a breakdown. He made me feel like a woman, and that was enough.
For the first time, I felt like enough.
I wanted to feel like thatall over.
His broad shoulders shifted as he slid his hand into his pocket, rummaging for keys.
My eyes went to his hand—it was steady; confident.
I expected Disgrace to jump out and say something about Sam being a player, but she was gone for the night. Having this sacred time away from her and her mental beat-downs was nothing short of miraculous.
Sam pulled some little round black thing from his pocket, waved it in front of the door, and the lock clicked.
Fancy.
We stepped through the threshold and he looked back at me with that bright, panty-melting smile.
