Page 92 of Sing it, Sam

Probably not.

Yeah, definitely not.

We should really talk about what’s going to happen after he leaves the home. I’ve been delaying the conversation, and Sam hasn’t brought it up either. Maybe it’s a case of neither of us being ready for the change. We have to be positive, though. It’s a step in the right direction for Sam and I’ll be there for him, even if there’s distance between us.

But once he’s fully recovered, will he be travelling all over the countryside? Will our contact eventually fade away? Will Sam remember the girl in Willow Creek who sat by his bedside, read to him, and confided in him?

After a while has passed, I decide to wake Sam before my thoughts eat me alive. I’m overthinking our relationship. There’s no need complicate things any further.

“Sam,” I whisper. I tap him on the shoulder.

He fails to stir.

“You’re drooling, Sam,” I say, louder this time. “Incredibly sexy.”

He pries one eye open.Of course, that sparked his attention.

“Sexy, huh? I’m red-hot company, aren’t I?” he says in jest.

“If I’m honest, you’re great company. You make the cutest little noises when you sleep. Kind of like my dog.”

“No guy likes to be compared to anything cute. Or furry.” Sam brings his arms forward and winces.

“What’s wrong?” I blurt out.

“I’ve lost feeling in my arms,” he says and grits his teeth.

I sit up on my haunches. My heart starts beating like crazy. “Oh my god ... do I have to do something?” Jumping into action, I carefully straddle his lap, and reach out to touch his bent elbows, ever so gently. “Do I need to take you to the hospital?”

Sam’s chest expands with a deep breath. The corners of his pink lips curl upwards. They continue to stretch until Sam’s white teeth are revealed.

“Are you panicking?” he asks. He makes a long ‘ow’ sound.

My brows pull together. I should be calm under pressure.Put your responsible thinking hat on, Jane.

“N-no,” I stutter. “Tell me what I need to do. I’m calm.” I nod, more to convince myself than Sam. “I promise.”

“Relaaax, babe. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep in this position.”

Relief floods through my veins. “Oh, good,” I say with a heavy sigh. He’s just having your typical dead arms. I fall asleep with my arms above my head all the time, so I can sympathise with how awful it feels—as if your bones are on fire.

“I just need to get the blood flowing again,” Sam grumbles. He raises his left arm up and brings it back down. His range of motion seems to increase each time he repeats the movement.

I settle farther into his lap. “Can I help?”

In my head, I know I should move. My heart has other ideas. How often do we get the chance to be this close?

I place one hand on his right elbow and the other on his right hand. Sam nods in approval. Slowly, I bring his other arm to his waist and wiggle his fingers in a circular motion. A growl rumbles in the back of his throat when I finally settle his hand on his flat stomach.

“Okay?” I ask, searching his eyes as I roll my hips back.

“The blood’s flowing somewhere,” he says and winks.

Something hard twitches beneath me. “Oh, right,” I grumble as I try to shuffle off him. Sam grips me loosely on my hips. His hold isn’t strong enough to keep me there, but I give in and stay put.

“Thank you,” Sam whispers.

“For what exactly?” The grinding? Giving you a stiffy?I’ll happily continue.

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