We now had three and a half hours of precious alone time. I was tempted to drag Sam directly into bed.
But I wanted to savor it. And I also had things to say.
After we’d said goodbye to the crew, I’d instructed Sam to wait for me out on the balcony while I got us some refreshments.
Now, on my way out there, I took in his knee, bouncing wildly as he looked out over the river, where the sun was starting its descent into the hills.
At the sound of me stepping out onto the balcony, he smiled.
“Hey,” he said, jumping up to help me with the bottle of wine and glasses I’d brought out.
“I’m okay,” I said, but he was already taking them from me, setting them on the table in front of the outdoor couch.
As he fussed to push the cushions back to make room for me, I laughed. “You sure you didn’t bring a red carpet?”
“Should I have?” He looked serious.
I laughed again, shaking my head.
Sam waited until I was sitting comfortably before he sat again. Down on the street, happy conversations and laughter sounded over the noise of cars and patio music. It was lively down there, the sounds of the town excited about a night of celebration contagious, even from up here.
Sam looked out at the pinkening sky. “It’s a nice night for fireworks.” His knee started to bounce again, his fingers tight on the arm of the couch.
“It is.” I was nervous, but apparently not nearly as much as Sam.
“Are you okay?” I asked softly.
“I’m uh…” He met my eyes. “No, actually. I feel kind of sick.”
“Oh. Do you want some water? I can?—”
“Not that kind of sick, El.” His lips tilted just a little. “You said you wanted to talk, and I want to too, I just…” He perked up. “Maybe I should tell you about the other things I got?”
I reached over and took his hand. His palm was damp and he cursed under his breath, wiping his hands on his knees. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I feel like a fucking teenager. You’re the sexy older woman, by the way.”
I laughed. “Mrs. Higgenbottom.”
He gave me a sheepish grin.
“Sam,” I said. “What I wanted to talk to you about isn’t bad.”
He looked at me, his eyes intense, like he was willing me to sayPsych!
But when I smiled, he visibly relaxed, sinking into the couch. “Oh thank Fuck, Ellie. I was about to shit my pants.”
I laughed, covering my eyes with my hand. “Sam. Ew.”
“Not really.”
I lowered my hand. This guy.
He waited patiently.
“Well,” I began, “I just wanted to say, Sam, that I wasn’t being fair before.”
A line formed between his brows. “What do you mean?”
“When I told you last week… before…” I swallowed again. I was going to get a strained neck at this point. “When I told you I didn’t know what I could give you. The truth is, I do know what I can give you. I’m just…well, I’m fucking terrified.”
