Sam looked down, like he was worried he’d said too much. “I’m better now. So much better. And I don’t expect anything from you. I just wanted to tell you that you saved me, Ellie. Just by being in my life. You still do, every day.”
He laughed then, this embarrassed, self-deprecating sound. “Dr. Hassan told me I should probably be careful how much of that I told you.”
He was still looking down, away from me. But he seemed to register his lower half then. “Shit.” He brought his hands to his buckle, which was still open.
But that’s when I saw that his hands were trembling.
It had taken so much for him to tell me that. And what he’d said did scare me. Sam putting me on a pedestal meant there was only one way for me to go after this. But more than that—at least right now—I was honored he’d trusted me. I knew what it was like to pour yourself out to someone and have them trample, uncaring, through the puddle that was left of your heart.
I set my hands over his, stopping him from what he was doing.
He froze, for a moment not moving. Not even his gaze. Then he drew his eyes up to mine.
Despite downplaying what he’d just said, his eyes told the truth. They were intense. Desperate. Raw.
I could have said so many things. But I didn’t want to speak. I wanted to show him. So I set his hands on his stomach, out of my way. I folded his jeans down again, pushing the clothing aside to expose the bullet mark: that symbol of pain Iwanted to keep him from living in. I bent down and kissed it, my lips brushing feather-soft over the angry pink scar tissue.
Sam was frozen, completely unmoving. For a moment I worried I’dscaredhim.
But when I pressed my hand to his hip, my thumb landed on his pulse there. It was beating fast.
He was perfectly still, his eyes on me. I brushed his skin with my thumb, the pale part next to the scar. I skated my fingers across his exposed skin, along the part just above the elastic band of his shorts. His eyes closed briefly, like he was trying to contain himself. But I saw the way he stirred in the place still covered. The place just below where the strip of soft hair that ran from his navel disappeared.
I pulled the other side of his jeans down, still leaving that part of him covered. His skin here was an expanse of possibility. It was his, and now, just for now, it was mine.
I kissed him on the other side, too. But this time, I kept my eyes on his. As my lips brushed against him, closer and closer to the place I could feel him growing, Sam’s pupils blew wide.
“Ellie,” he husked.
I gave him a final kiss. Then, I stood up. “Come with me,” I whispered. Without looking back, and with my heart pounding, I walked down the hall in the direction of my room.
CHAPTER 32
I Want to Kiss You, All the Time
SAM
Inever knew I could feel so many things at once. Pain at revisiting the intensity of that day in all its ugly entirety. Relief that I was finally able to do it. Gratitude that I’d shown Ellie—told her the truth about what she meant to me—and she hadn’t run away.
I told myself I’d let her lead this. I had no agenda. It didn’t matter if she wanted to do this one time. Whatever she wanted, I’d give it to her. Even if it meant we kept things exactly as they were.
I found her waiting outside her door, back to the wall, eyes closed. Her hair was mussed, her sleep shirt slipped off one shoulder. She wasn’t wearing a bra, I could see that now. It drove me fucking wild.
But sexy as she looked, she was more beautiful than I’d ever seen her, too.
I felt inexplicably nervous. I didn’t get nervous very often. But this woman had the power to destroy me.
And I’d let her. There would never be another woman for me. I knew that now.
Ellie opened her eyes at the sound of my bare feet on the hardwood.
“Hey,” she whispered.
“Hey.”
I leaned against the wall opposite her.
For a moment, we just stared at one another. My insides were a swirling mess of heat; anticipation and anxiety.
