Page 22 of Waiting for a Prince
It looks as if Sam has an Achilles heel—Rebecca.
The distinctly unhappy expression on Sam’s face, however, left Mark unwilling to press his advantage.
Mark glanced at his phone. “How about we call it a night?” It was already gone nine, and Mark needed his eight hours.
Sam shrugged. “Okay by me.” The slump of his shoulders and the sudden break in eye contact told Mark a different story.
I did that.Somehow, bringing Rebecca into the conversation had resulted in Sam’s abrupt change in mood.
And isn’tthatweird?
Mark wasn’t about to let his friend stay down for long.
“How about coming to Wetherspoons with me on Friday night? You could meet me after work and we could grab a bite to eat there.”
Sam’s brow cleared. “Yeah, that sounds great.” He smiled, and Mark was relieved to see the light back in his eyes.
And I did that too.
Mark resolved to keep that light where it belonged. Then it hit him.
They may only have known each other for a relatively short time, but Sam seemed to have slipped quietly into Mark’s life, as if he had always been there.
And I want him to stay there.
Sam watched as Mark’s Ford Fiesta pulled out of the carpark. Mark’s parting words that he’d booked them tickets forJawshad made him smile.
I think I smiled more in one night than I have done for the last six months.
Their shared laughter had been the medicine Sam needed.
Then his own words returned to haunt him.
If I want to spend time with you, it’s none of her concern. She has her own life, after all.
If only it were that simple.
Right on cue, his phone buzzed. He sat on the wall separating the carpark from the beach, and clicked Answer. “Hi. How was your evening?”
“Boring, if you must know. Where were you? I called by your flat. Your car was there, but you didn’t answer when I rang.”
“I was out bowling. I took the bus.”
“Who were you bowling with?”
God, he hated these interrogations. “With Mark.”
“Again?”
He couldn’t rein in his irritation, even though he knew it was a bad idea. “What do you mean, again? I was supposed to listen to the band and watch the fireworks with him on Friday. I think we spent five minutes talking before you arrived. And the rest of my evening was spent with you.”
“Excuse me? I’m your girlfriend. Don’t I come first?” That sharp edge was back in her voice, so Sam guessed her dad wasn’t in earshot.
Sam took a deep breath. “I thinkgirlfriendis pushing it a bit, don’t you?”
For the life of him, he couldn’t think of a more appropriate word.
The silence that fell with athudtold Sam he’d just bought himself a whole lot of trouble.
