Alex paused by the front door. She raised one hand to the knob, but kept her back to Sam. “I’m sorry. I’m not myself tonight. Grandpa Jerry’s wine strikes again.” She opened her mouth to say something else, but after a moment, she closed it again and drew her lips together. “Good night, Sam,” she said after a moment.
Sam’s heart clenched. Hesitantly, she took a step closer. Alex shook her head to stop her, meeting Sam’s eyes but smiling sadly.
Sam took another step forward. “Talk to me.”
Alex gave her one last look, pressed the door open, and slipped out into the night.
Sam watched from the window as Alex hurried to her car.If she looks back at me, it means…She began to whisper under her breath before she realized what she was doing and stopped herself. It was something she had always done when she and Alex were in high school, before she took the leap and made her feelings known.If she looks back at me, it means she likes me back,she would whisper after she dropped Alex off or they parted ways in the hallway atschool. She remembered how she felt when Alex finally looked back at her after weeks of saying it to herself.
But this time, Alex did not so much as glance her way. She started the car, put it in gear, and backed out of the driveway quickly. Sam stood watching, following the trail of her taillights down the road. Even after they receded from her view, she didn’t turn away.
Chapter Eleven
Despite an exhausting week and staying up way too late, Sam’s eyes snapped open the next morning. She had always prided herself on her ability to brute-force her way through exhaustion, but the weight of the past few weeks was beginning to take its toll. She didn’t feel rested. She felt raw. She fumbled around until she found her phone and squinted at the screen. 6:55 a.m. What the hell? Sam was not a morning person. Now that she didn’t have to be at the office so early, she was hoping she’d be able to catch up on sleep. She groaned and tossed the phone back onto the rumpled sheets beside her. For a few long seconds, she tried to trick her body back into sleep by rolling onto her stomach, pulling the covers over her head, and squeezing her eyes shut. Her body wanted rest, and she hoped that by mimicking a bear heading into winter hibernation, she could fool it into getting some.
Her mind, however, had other ideas. Her brain was awake, and it was already at work. It took less than sixty seconds for it to drift straight to Alex with barely any time for transition. One moment, she was lost in the hazy gray fog of sleep. And the next, she was replaying every moment of interaction between the two of them in minute detail. Sam felt a burst of warmth, and she couldn’t tell if it was coming from a place of platonic affection or from all the other tension that seemed to be swirling between them. A reluctant smile formed as she remembered Alex chiding her with that familiar old nickname, Sam the Sloth, and talking about some of their teen antics.
Sam tried to tell herself that sleep deprivation and the nostalgia of being back in Hicksville had given her a case of the what-ifs. The logical side of her brain was already making a list:You’re tired, you’re not thinking clearly, you’re just imagining things. Maybe you simply miss feeling wanted, or perhaps you’re confusing affection for something bigger because you’re back in a place where everything feels so familiar.
The thing was, Sam wasn’t usually this self-indulgent. Emotions weren’t her thing. They were inefficient and distracting. She preferred to keep things compartmentalized, preferably in neat, color-coded boxes she could open or close as needed. So far, she had managed to keep Alex in the handle-with-care box she reserved for old friends and past loves. It was manageable.
But last night had blown up every single one of those boxes. She remembered how Alex’s voice had softened, the way it caught just a little when she said, “I still cared about you, Sam.” She remembered how she had held Sam’s gaze for a split second too long, uncertain yet hopeful, and so very, very exposed. It was a look Sam recognized because she had worn it herself, years ago, until she learned how to pass as someone a little less breakable.
And then, of course, there was the physical stuff. Every accidental touch that couldn’t be casually explained away, every time they leaned too close and Sam caught a whiff of Alex’s shampoo, she felt it like a small electric shock through her body. She tried to chalk it up to old habits or Grandpa Jerry’s wine. But now, in the bright light of morning, there was no way to deny it. It was longing, pure and simple. And it was more dangerous than she wanted to admit.
She forced herself to do a mental inventory. What was the actual problem here? Was it that she still had feelings for Alex? That was becoming more obvious by the minute. Was it the fact that they had history? That was a resounding yes. How she and Alex had ended had really done a number on her psyche. Hell, it was the whole reason she now put everything in neat little boxes. She’d spent the last twelve years learning how to set boundaries with others, how to say no and actually mean it, how to live without Alexandra Weaver.And now, within a few weeks of returning to Hicksville, all that was unraveling.
She had to keep reminding herself that Hicksville was temporary. The plan was to get in, deal with her mother’s estate, and then get back out. Boston was home now. Boston was where she belonged. Boston was where she had a condo and a job. Boston was where she needed to be in order to move her life forward and keep becoming the person she wanted to be. She scolded herself—she had already let her guard down. She was already too far gone to pretend that she could stay uninvolved. But she still had control over the level of involvement…right?
A ping from her phone broke the spell. Sam rolled onto her back and groaned. She reached for her phone and was surprised to see that nearly an hour had passed while she was taking a stroll down memory lane. She saw a text from Jordan, and swiped open the phone.
Fancy a visit to the big city?
I just got back from one :D
I meant my city, smart ass.
Sam smiled. She thought back to the night before with Alex. She really could use a drink…or several more drinks. And someone to process things with.What did you have in mind?
Dinner at Julio’s, then dancing at Splash?
Sam wrinkled her nose. Splash was Pittsburgh’s only gay bar. Friday night was ladies’ night, but still, it was always packed, always sweaty. Sam tolerated dancing, but only for Jordan. It was the feeling of being sized up like the last cupcake at a birthday party that she didn’t love.You had me at dinner. Lost me at Splash.
Sammmmmmmie.
Jordan.
Please?
Well, that was different. Jordan never, ever said please. Something was up.What are you up to?She watched the three dots blinking as he typed his response.
Who? Me?
Jordan.
Sam.
Sam put her phone down and counted slowly. She had just reached nine when she heard a ping.
