“I’d rather you didn’t exist right now.”
We were still inside, but I didn’t care.I threw my sunglasses on anyway, sighing at the relief of sweet, sweet darkness on my eyes.Sam looked far too smug this early in the morning, and I gave him a dirty look, not caring if he couldn’t see it.
It didn’t matter.He could still tell, smiling as he said, “I know.You hate me.”Smug bastard.
At the bottom of the stairs, he pulled me in for a kiss, then chuckled against my mouth at my semi-indignant grunt.I might be hungover, but I still had Sam’s lips on mine, and their tenderness was almost enough to make me feel better.Almost.
“That’s right,” I argued, but I didn’t hide my smile.
We walked to Millennium Park (stopping blessedly for strong, large coffees), and I followed him as we crossed through into Lurie Garden.There was a chill in the air, the weather finally turning towards lower temps now that we’d officially entered fall, and I was glad for my jacket.But, even through the haze of fatigue (and smattering of early tourists), the garden was beautiful.
I didn’t think I’d actually visited before.
Sam looked personally affronted when I told him this.“That’s really a shame.There are over 126 native species of plants here, and they wanted it to be a wild meadow that lasted through all four seasons.It’s actually incredible the way they—”
“I swear to God, if you don’t stop talking right now, I’m going to throw you off this track.”
He went quiet, but I spied a smile in my periphery.
“Why do you like this so much anyway?”
He said nothing.
“Are you ignoring me now?”
“You said to stop talking.”He chuckled at my low growl.“And, by this, I’m assuming you are referring to my enjoyment of the outdoors?”
I dropped my sunglasses to glare at him.
“Is there something offensive about fresh air and trees?”
“You used to live in Vegas, and you’re going to lecture me about the joys of fresh air and trees?”
“My parents loved gardening.I spent a lot of time growing up outside, learning about herbs and the virtues of a green thumb.”
“I had no idea.You spend so much time in the bar.”
Pointing to himself, he said, “Workaholic, remember?I enjoy pushing myself.But it doesn’t leave much time for a life.”
Another round of the garden and (I fucking hated to admit it) my head actually felt clearer.Damn fresh air.Damn Sam and his smartness.
“Herbs, huh?Guess you’re a whiz in the kitchen, too?”
“You’d be mistaken, I’m afraid.”
I stopped in my tracks.“Wait.Really?”
He nodded.
“The great Sam Cooper has a flaw?I must notify the news.”
He chuckled, rough and low.It was the one he let out when he was truly amused.I didn’t have the brainpower to even tell myself off for cataloging them.Instead, I had a brilliant idea.“Ok.Since you can’t cook, and we’ve established last night was your fault—” I said.
“Oh, we did, did we?”
“—you need to take me to breakfast.”Shit, that sounded like a date.“Since I figure we’re friends now.”Not better.Jesus, hungover me sucked at this.
“Are we?”And goddamn it, why did he have to sound so earnest?
