Page 86 of And Then Came You

He’s home.

He’s safe.

Even though Caroline placated me with sweets and screwball comedies, my mind remained focused entirely on one thing—Sam’s safety.

I knew Damian was no match for Sam’s strength, but I didn’t know what that piece of shit was capable of, especially after he smacked me around only ten feet from a public building. I worried he might be packing, and I didn’t doubt Damian would resort to dirty tricks to protect himself.

My biggest fear, outside of Sam getting seriously injured, was him being arrested, his name and reputation dragged through the mud, all in his bid to defend my honor.

I’m so glad it didn’t come to that. I’d never forgive myself.

Sam stands at the door of the guest bedroom, conversing with Caroline. But I need to touch him, lay my hands on him and know he’s real.

I wrap my arms around his waist, pressing my face to his back. “You’re here. I was so worried.”

Sam turns with a low chuckle. “I told you I’d be back, E.T.” Framing my face, he examines me. “How are you feeling?”

Sore. Hopeless.

No sense in discussing the obvious. Sam knows my night was hardly a walk in the park. Better to aim for levity. Lord knows we all need it tonight. “About forty pounds heavier, but it’s her fault.” I point toward Caroline with a smile. “She baited me with chocolate. Lots of chocolate.”

“I accept full blame, along with the knowledge that I’ll be pulling a double in the gym tomorrow,” Caroline concurs as she cleans up the mess of goodies strewn across the king-sized bed. “I’m heading back to my room, unless either of you need anything. Sam, do you need the doctor?”

That’s when I notice his hands—bruised and bloodied across the knuckles.

“I’ll take care of him,” I announce, leading him to the bathroom, my heart sinking at the sight of his battered skin. “I told you not to cause trouble for yourself. Do they hurt?”

Sam’s gaze holds mine, his eyes flashing with intensity. “They’re fine, Lexi. It felt good as hell to smash that bastard’s face into the pavement.”

Wincing at his brutal statement, I turn my focus to the cuts littering his knuckles, hearing a slight huff when I apply the iodine. “I should have listened to you. Even the other night, I knew something was off with Damian. He was so pushy and handsy. I wanted to cancel tonight, but I thought that would be such a terrible thing to do, you know? His first big show—”

“And his last,” Sam interjects, flexing his hands. “Hindsight is 20/20, Lexi. I’m just glad I was in New York and that you could get to me. I hate this flying all over the damn globe.”

“I thought you loved traveling.”

“I did, but like most things, it’s gotten old. Now, I want something different.”

“You’re braver than me. Different sounds scary, particularly after this evening.”

“This different is good. It will protect you.”

“Will you lay with me tonight?” Yes, it’s a bold statement, but it doesn’t arise from any unfulfilled sexual desire. Sam is my safe space, and I need him close.

A smile splits his face, not the cocky one that graces magazine covers, but the crooked grin he reserves for those he loves. “I was planning on it.”

We lie in his bed, considering the guest room looks like Willy Wonka’s workshop. Sam strips down to his boxers, but this time, I don’t ogle his muscled physique. I feel numb. Perhaps if you get battered enough on the outside, your heart packs up and skips town, leaving only a shell in its stead.

Besides, I no longer hold any romantic fantasies about Sam and me.

Am I attracted to him? Beyond a doubt.

Do I dream about him? Almost every night.

But dreams are not reality, and it’s time for me to smarten up enough to exist in this realm. Maybe I need to write thrillers instead of romance, considering the shape of my personal life.

My resigned sigh echoes into the stillness, and Sam presses his lips to my hair. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“What’s there to say? I’m an idiot, once again.”

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