Page 18 of To Tell the Truth
"And she made you a blanket because you helped me get into college?"'
She gave him a tight smile as if she was trying to let him down easy and not hurt his feelings. "It's a great blanket for Chicago."
He sat down on the couch and it was as soft and fluffy as he expected it to be. The blanket felt so comforting under his fingers. He needed this moment to try and get this jumbled mess in his head figured out. All this time he thought Samantha was just helping him because their moms were friends and she was being friendly. Why did he never suspect that his parents paid her? It was so obvious that Fletcher felt like a complete idiot for not realizing it until now.
Samantha sat down next to him and put her hand on his knee. Her fingers were practically burning his skin through his dress pants, but he couldn't push it away.
"I'm sorry," she said in a way that made him think she meant it. "I thought you always knew they were paying me."
He shook his head. "It's stupid, right?" he asked. "Because it was obvious the whole time."
"Well, not obvious. Your mom used to give an envelope with cash to my mom. I just figured you knew."
Fletcher started to get a bad feeling in his gut. Had she just been friends with him this whole time because his mom was paying her?
"I uh... I just assumed that you were tutoring me to be nice."
A warm smile spread across her face. "And I never admitted to your mom that I would've done it for free if it meant I could hang out with you."
Huh. Fletcher could feel that weird sensation disappearing, as if knowing that she actually liked him back then made the whole "my mom is paying you" thing feel not so bad.
"So you just liked hanging out with me?" he asked.
Samantha rolled her eyes and moved just an inch closer to him on the couch, but it was definitely a noticeable inch.
"You were a jock and the hottest player on the high school hockey game and you dated five cheerleaders, not that I was keeping count."
Fletcher gave her a teasing look. "Sounds like you were keeping count. And I only dated four cheerleaders."
"You ate whatever baked goods I brought over with me, even the bad ones."
He scoffed. "There were no bad ones and I ate whatever you brought me because you were one of the few people who didn't treat me like I was a jock."
She stared at him, really looking at him in a way that no one else ever did. Then she leaned over and Fletcher could smell whatever flowery shampoo she used.
"Are you saying you had a crush on me in high school?"
He nodded. "And you had a crush on me?"
"Do you want me to tell the truth?" she asked. "Because I still have a crush on you."
Fletcher could feel a surge of emotion. It was a dumb feeling because it meant that they had these crushes even back then and had wasted all this time without acknowledging them. But maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. Fletcher had gone on to college and become a major hockey star. Samantha was an amazing professional baker and the U.S. Cupcake Frosting Champion.
Maybe it was good for them to go different ways after high school. And maybe it was inevitable that they would find each other again.
Fletcher's realization hit him head on. After all this time, they still came back into each other's lives. He didn't know if it was destiny or fate or whatever, but he knew he couldn't let this opportunity go to waste again.
Samantha was staring at him now, probably wondering what was going on in his head and why he hadn't responded to her confession that she still found him attractive. But there was alot going on in his head and he wasn't really sure if he could put any of that into words.
So rather than trying to explain it, he leaned over, closing the gap between them, and he kissed her.
Chapter Eight
Samantha really liked that kiss on the beach back in Los Angeles with Fletcher, but this was something different. There was something about Fletcher here in her apartment, just to the two of them, that felt special. It felt like this was how it was supposed to be.
But she also wanted more. So Samantha grabbed the collar of the button-down shirt and pulled him closer. The moan he gave her was better than anything she expected and she couldn't help but kiss him harder.
How did this even happen? A decade ago, she was sitting at his dining room table tutoring him for their math class. He was a hockey player that was totally out of her league. And now she was making out with him on her couch in her adult apartment in Chicago. It was like a dream and yet her current situation was really truly kissing Fletcher Keris.
