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Right up until the phone rang.

The standard, unimaginative jingle wasn’t hers, and Sam pulled back with a muttered oath, his hand going for the back pocket of his jeans, which were precariously close to sliding off his butt.

“Leave it,” she said, terrified that he was about to take a phone call when she was so damn close to finally learning what all the fuss was about.

“I just want to turn it on silent,” he said, tugging the phone out.

She saw the second his face changed.

“Who is it?”

The warmth faded from his eyes, and the mouth that had just been making her writhe had straightened into a flat line. “My mother.”

Your mother?! “Can’t you … you know, call her back later?”

He continued to glare at the screen. “She and I aren’t really talking. She’s been mad at me. If she’s calling now …”

Riley bit her lip. A tiny part of her—the horny, turned-on part—wanted to tell him that a man who stopped sex to talk to his mother was every kind of bad cliché in the book.

But the other part of her—the friend—knew that the relationship between Sam and his mother was tenuous and a million kinds of messed up.

And if he thought she might be calling because something was wrong …

“Answer it.”

His finger was already swiping across the screen to answer the call. “Mom?”

He was sitting up now, and Riley already missed his warmth.

“What? When?”

Riley immediately sat up at the strain in his voice, her hand going to his shoulder, which was tense and hard as granite beneath her palm.

“But—Mom, come on—”

Apparently Helena wasn’t letting him get a word in edgewise.

“Now hold on, just a second—tell me where—”

He broke off again, and although Riley couldn’t make out any words, she could hear the screech of Helena’s voice on the other end. She frowned in confusion. She’d known he didn’t have a good relationship with his mother, but he was good and pissed now, in addition to sounding worried.

“Fine. We’ll do this your way. But I’m not listening to another word … No, you don’t get it both ways, Mom. You can’t tell me I’m not welcome to visit you in the hospital but then also expect me to stay on the line while you chew me out … Call me if you change your mind, and I’ll be there. But this conversation is over.”

He tossed the phone aside and moved off the bed, away from her. Her hand dropped onto the mattress.

He didn’t want her comfort. Clearly.

“Sam?”

He didn’t turn to face her as he buttoned his jeans. “My mom’s in the hospital. Chest pain.”

Riley’s hand went to her mouth. “Oh God, Sam, I’m sorry. Do you want me to go with you—”

He gave a harsh laugh. “Nowhere to go. Didn’t you hear? She doesn’t want me there.”

Riley’s jaw fell open, even though she’d surmised as much from his half of the conversation. “But why?”

It simply didn’t compute. What sort of mother would turn her only son away from the hospital during a very real health scare?

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