Page 37 of Choosing Forever
“It’s tiring, right?”
Dressed in his uniform, he nods and holds his hip. “Very. But that’s what we get for living here, I guess. There are other towns we could disappear into where we wouldn’t have this issue.”
That’s exactly what my brother did. Leaving Cherry Peak was an easy decision for him, and now he lives a few hours away in Snowbell Ridge, working some stuffy job all alone. The only way to get him back here is to beg, and we’re not the type of siblings to do that for some face time.
“That doesn’t make it fair, though. Privacy and respect should be the bare minimum regardless of where you live.”
“I won’t argue with you there. We’d have a hell of a lot less disputes if we could all just get along.”
Lifting my brows, I take a breath and let them fall again. “I sound naïve, don’t I?”
“Not naïve. Maybe just a bit too wishful,” he says lightly.
I chuff a laugh. “Too wishful. What a personality trait.”
“I could think of worse ones.”
My slight smile falls as I register the flirtatious tone of his voice. I hate how wrong it feels to have a man show interest in me, even as innocently as Sam. Shit, I’m broken. So incredibly broken.
He’s a good-looking guy too. Tall and bulky enough to make it clear that he works out often and avoids the majority of my favourite foods. There’s no hint of hair anywhere on his face, and his eyes are a shade of green similar to mine. Maybe it’s a mix of all those things that explains why I’m not interested.
I hate that I know I’m right.
Sam isn’t interesting to me because his hair is blond, he doesn’t have a mustache, and his eyes aren’t brown.
Frustration heats my chest as I shake that off, refusing to believe that I’m still holding out for a man who doesn’t want me. I’m done with that. Way, way done.
“I’m sorry. That came off too strong,” Sam rambles, face flushed. “Icame on too strong.”
Shaking my head, I reach out and touch his elbow. The immediate discomfort irritates me enough that I put more pressure behind my touch as if to tell myself off.
“No, no. You didn’t. I’m sorry. I was up late last night.”
It’s not completely a lie. I was up late flirting with the idea of a stomach ulcer because of how stressed I got just thinking about today.
Sam’s tense features relax as he glances down at my hand. “Alright. I’m glad to hear it. Well, not about you being up late.”
“I know what you meant,” I say, offering a smile.
“I’m not usually so messy with my words. I guess that’s a Delaney effect.”
Unsure of what to say to that, I just laugh. Thankfully, it doesn’t sound awkward.
Sam is quick to fill the silence before it can stick around too long. “Anyway, do you know what group you’ve been assigned to?”
“No. I think they’re posting groups right now.”
He looks around and slips his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “It’s like waiting to see which team you’re on in gym class all over again.”
“You’ve got a point. I’m just hoping I wasn’t chosen last.”
“You? I remember you being chosen early for every sport back then.”
“I don’t. But maybe I just blocked a lot of that time out of my memory,” I joke to hide the bite in my side.
“I think most of us have probably done that.”
Pushing past the urge to let the conversation die, I ask, “Is there a job you’re hoping you’re assigned to?”
