Page 7 of Surviving You, Scotch and Sammy 1

She places the tall glass down in front of me and her arm brushes along mine in a way I just know wasn’t by accident. “Here you go.”

I look up into her eyes, forcing her to meet mine for a long beat as her blush spreads through her cheeks and my stomach tumbles like a dryer set on scolding. “Thanks Sammy.”

Whitney giggles beside Marc. “Does anyone else think it’s weird that Sammy and Turner are together? It’s weird.”

“We’re not together--”

Luc snorts. “Hey Sam. Do you like green eggs and ham?”

He thinks he’s a funny fucker, but my eyes still haven’t left hers. I eat up the way her cheeks flush pink at Luc’s teasing.

“You should decide between the two of you who’s gonna change their name, because at the moment, they clash and it sounds like Turner’s whacking off alone every night.”

“Hey!” My head swings toward him. “You don’t speak that way in front of her.” I know he’s only teasing, it’s just who he is, but no one has permission to make her feel uncomfortable like that.

Sammy’s face has flushed a dark red, her mortification almost painful to look at. She’s different to us. She’s classier and more sheltered.

“It’s okay,” Sammy stammers and turns away. “I gotta get back to work.”

I watch her sprint away from us like her ass was on fire, then I turn back to Luc. “You’re a fuckin’ asshole.”

He grits his teeth. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to be funny.”

“Don’t. She’s not like us, Luc. You offend her when you speak that way.”

Whitney snickers. “That just makes her a prude, Turner. You said it yourself, she’s not like us. She’s a snob and a bitch.”

I glare at Whitney’s filthy mouth. “You call her names again and you’ll be blacklisted from The Shed.” Her eyes flare wide at my threat. To be blacklisted from The Shed is social suicide around here. “I don’t give a damn what you think, and I doubt she cares either. She’s not a prude and she’s not a snob, she’s better than any of us.”

Angelo lets out a deep breathy sigh. “I’m your best friend and I love you…”

His words instantly set my gut on fire. Angelo doesn’t speak all that often, especially not in crowds, so when he does, it’s usually best to listen. But today, right now, I don’t think I want to hear what he has to say. “But?”

“But you have to get her off that pedestal of yours. No woman can possibly live up to the bar you’ve set her at. Not even she can live up to it. You’re setting yourself up for heartbreak.”

Deny, deny, deny. He’s wrong. “No.”

“I’ll always be here to catch you, bud. But I’d rather you didn’t fall.”

“No.” I stand from the booth. “You’re wrong. You’re not trying to be dicks, so I’ll always forgive you. But you’re wrong.” I walk away from the table and head across the store. I have shit to do today anyway, so I walk by the front counter. “I’ll see you Monday, Sammy.”

Her startled eyes snap up to mine. “You’re leaving early.”

Yeah. She definitely watches me as much as I watch her. I scratch the back of my neck nervously, because I want to impress her, but, “Yeah, I have some make up math tests I have to study for, and my friends are annoying me, so…”

Sammy’s eyes flitter across my face as she studies me. “You’re struggling in math?”

“Yeah. I failed the last two tests, and if I don’t do better, I won’t have enough credits to graduate. Plus, my mom and dad said if I don’t pull my head out, I’ll be banned from playing at The Shed.”

She smiles softly, then at a loud ruckus behind me, she watches over my shoulder for half a beat. “It’d be a tragedy if you had to quit the band. There’d be a riot.”

“Ha. Yeah. Wouldn’t wanna disappoint my legions of fans… Anyway.” I wait for her eyes to come back to mine. “I have to go, so I’ll see you at school, okay?”

She nods slowly and wrings a hand towel between her hands. “Okay.”

“Sleep tight. And don’t bother going back to their table. They’re idiots.”

She nods again as a sneaky smile lifts the side of her lips. “Okay. Happy studying.”

---