Page 110 of Sing it, Sam

I put down my bag and press my clenched fists to my hips. “Um, because you had a fall? Why didn’t you tell me?” My shoulders move closer to my ears as I wait for a response.

His brows draw together, and he mumbles something about his brother.

“Before you go off at him, Ben didn’t say a word. It was my psychic friend. At least, I think she’s psychic. Britt, she has visions and stuff, and you were on her mind last night around eleven o’clock or something, and then she told me she sensed you had a fall and that I should come see you.” I run my outstretched fingers across my forehead. “Sorry, I’m rambling. That makes sense though, yeah?”

“None whatsoever.” Sam grins and looks me up and down.

“What?” I look down at my faded blue jeans and brush down the front of my red-and-white-checked flannelette shirt. My brown hiking boots are a little dusty, but I was planning on going for a bushwalk. Until Britt and I had our chat.

“You can take the girl out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the girl. Nice duds.”

“Shut up, you. I was in a hurry. So again, why didn’t you ring me?”

“Because I didn’t want you to panic over nothing. Now …” He motions with his arm for me to join him. “Get that cute writer butt of yours over here.”

I bound on the bed and wrap my arms around him. “You know, speaking of writing, I finally broke the drought with my words.” I sit up and straighten my spine.

Sam swoops in with a kiss that steals my breath and has my lungs fighting for air.

“You did? That’s great.”

“Yup. Turns out I was writing about the wrong characters. Now I’m writing about us, Sam. We have a story.”

His eyes widen. “We do?”

I ruffle my fingers through the long hair on top of his head. “Course we do.”

“Not much of a story right now,” he says, looking down at his wet shirt.

“Oh, shut up. Always the dramatics with you,” I tease. It draws a one-sided smile from his mouth before his lips slowly curl into a grin.

“How come you won’t see the neurologist?”Might as well get that out in the open, too.

His smile drops. “Ben told you?” He narrows his eyes in the direction of the open door.

“Yes.Thathe told me. And I’m glad,” I say, my voice firm. “So why won’t you?”

He crosses his arms beneath his chest. “I don’t need to. Doin’ fine.”

“Ben says you’re pushing yourself too hard.”

“Like I said. I’m. Fine.”Stubborn boy.

“Is this all for the festival?” I probe.

“Jane, you said you wanted to go, yeah? Well, I wanna go with you, but without the fucking walker. What’s the big deal?”

Whoa.“It’s not a big deal, I just—”

He swoops his hands around my hips and lays me back on the bed. “Don’t panic, Janie. I got this.” Sam kisses me softly on the lips.

“I missed you,” I tell him as I smooth my hand over his chest.

“I want you to stay the night, Janie,” he says in a quiet voice.

I hadn’t really thought about what the plan would be once I got here. “I want that too, but I’d better check if it’s okay with Ben. It’s his house.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “It’s as much mine as it is his. No need to ask him.”

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