Page 24 of Sing it, Sam

I lift my chin. “Thank you. Anyway, I came to return the book. I took it home to read last night.”

He frowns. “You had it?”

“I did. Sorry.” I hand it to him and stand. “I’ll leave it for you to read.” Although I want to pick up where we left off last night, I have to respect that he probably wants to read alone. It’s a bummer because with the FBI in the picture, I was keen to read on.

He grips my hand and tugs it towards his chest. It sends a shiver from the base of my spine up to my neck.

“I want you to read it to me,” he says. His voice is hoarse, carrying a certain vulnerability. He seems less pissy than he was a second ago.

“You do?” I ask, hyperaware that my hand is still tightly within his. He makes small circles with his thumb over my knuckles. My feet root to the floor. Clearly, my heart has made the decision for me.Read with him.

Stay.

“I promise I won’t fall asleep,” he says. “Besides, I can’t find my reading glasses.”

“Come on then,” I say and return to my chair. Sam hands me the book and I open it where the bookmark pokes out.

As the rain drizzles outside, Sam and I delve further into the world of Kyle McAvoy and the secret he’s hiding. All the while, all I can think about is Sam.

I need to know his story.

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