Page 23 of Without You, Scotch and Sammy 2

Jack rolls his eyes. “That’s my boy. He’s gonna fight. You’re holding the future title holder there, Scotch. Don’t drop him.”

I pull Charlie back against my chest. I kiss his shoulder and tickle his skin with my stubble. “Love you, Charlie boy. Uncle Scotch will teach you how to play a guitar and we’ll write songs for all the pretty girls. I’ve got your back, buddy.”

– Scotch –

Reincarnation

Nancy and I climb the stairs at the back of my apartment, and our shoes loudly echo on the iron landings. The sun went down hours ago, and the moon is hidden by a thick layer of clouds. We’re about to be dumped with a whole new layer of snow, and Nancy and I both shiver as I fumble for my keys.

She presses her body against my side and wraps her hands around my arm, and we both smile when I look sideways at her pretty eyes.

With cake consumed and a beer sitting low in my belly, I’m feeling all warm and gooey inside, and for the first time in my entire life, I’ve decided to bring a girl back to my apartment.

I’ve danced with some girls at the club. I’ve kissed a couple in the dark. But I’ve never been able to seal the deal. Though it’s not entirely from a lack of trying. In the last couple of years, I’ve become more comfortable in the way my world worked out. I’ve tried hitting on girls, and we have an overabundance of them willing to show the band and me a good time, but when you’re kissing one girl but thinking of another, or worse yet, you say the wrong name, girls tend to get pissy about that.

Fuck Samantha Ricardo for breaking me the way she did.

Fuck her for essentially ensuring I can never move on.

As though her leaving me wasn’t bad enough, she haunts my every thought so that I couldn’t even move on if I tried. Fuck that bitch for tattooing herself on the inside of my eyelids.

I get the keys in my door and the lock snicks open, then turning back to the beautiful woman ready and willing to un-funk me, I bend my neck and cup her face, and at the very same moment our lips touch, Sammy’s face pops into my mind… But this time, it’s an image of Sammy and I together, and I’m a teenager. It’s a made-up image, not a memory, because back then, I’d never be so rude to her, but this time, this image, I am. With my middle fingers up in salute, I’m internally shouting ‘Fuck you, Samantha Ricardo.’

Nancy’s breath comes out on a delicious bubble gum flavored pant, and her chest rests heavily against mine. My hands squeeze her neck as I manipulate the way her head tilts, and as my dick thickens and grows against her stomach, she groans in my mouth. Blindly groping for the doorway, I nibble at her lips and spin us until her back rests against the inside wall. Reaching out with my hand, I slam the door shut, locking out the falling powdery snow and the car lights that turn into the alleyway behind the auto shop.

My hands drop to her tits instantly. Nancy’s hands squeeze my shoulders and my hands squeeze the odd feeling globes. Who am I to judge? Tits are tits, and they feel fine to me.

My lips dive down to her flowery scented neck, and nibbling at the warm flesh as her pulse beats against my tongue, I lift her leg as it slides around my hip. I press my dick against her and my teeth press down over her collar bone, but I freeze at the oddest noise.

Like a goat crying.

My brows knit, and I shush my date as her breath thunders in my ear. Our chests rise and fall heavily, our breath mingles as I pull back. Our eyes meet in the silence and we wait, but then the noise starts again.

“What the f--”

The stairs outside my door creak, and like metal on metal, the sliding of two solid objects against each other have my heart pounding for a new reason. I step back from Nancy’s groping hands, and when her leg falls to the floor, she lets out a grunt of dissatisfaction.

“Shhh. Just wait a sec.”

The crying continues, then a loud booming thump at my door actually forces me back a step. This is an old apartment, shitty, with old appliances and carpet, and no peep hole to look through. I step closer to the wooden door that separates me from whoever’s outside, and resting my hand on Nancy’s stomach to keep her flat against the wall, I rest my face on the door.

It’s late at night, and I honestly can’t even remember the last time someone knocked on my door. Britt and the girls come and go freely. The band let themselves in whenever they want, but they so rarely do. We spend the majority of our mooching time at Alex’s place, because he’s always got food and cable.

Another heavy fist slams against the door urgently, but the crying outside almost drowns the sound out. I search my pockets for my cell, and finding it, hit the button to switch the screen on. No missed calls. No texts. I saw everyone an hour ago, and no one mentioned coming over.

The girls scowled at me as I let Nancy out the front door, and the guys gave me enthusiastic thumbs up, because they’re lame.

I clear my throat softly, then leaning closer to the door, I call out. “I’m busy right now. Go away.”

“Sam!”

My whole world drops out from beneath my feet. My dick jumps without permission. My heart thunders with anxiety… and something else I can’t quite pinpoint. My eyes snap to Nancy’s, like this is some cruel joke she might be playing, but she’s as lost as I am.

“Sam. Please open the door. It’s snowing, and we’re cold.”

“Sam?”

My eyes jump from the door back to Nancy’s.

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