Eyes wide with surprise, the photographer now ignored Zach and took Sam by the shoulder and spun him around.
“Sammy?”
Frowning, Sam twisted out from under the photographer’s grasp. “Hello, Andy.”
Andy? Sam’s ex-lover Andy? Zach thought he might be sick.
Chapter Twenty
“Sammy?Holyshit, it is you.”
Before Sam could take another breath, Andy had crushed him to his chest. Shouldn’t Andy’s arms have felt familiar? They’d shared a bed and a home, and it had only been a little over six months since they’d been apart. Instead, his scent, that light cologne he always favored, smelled alien, his lips felt wrong, and the stubble on his chin irritated Sam’s cheek.
If he were the same person he’d been six months ago, Sam would’ve been happy to talk to Andy; maybe even suggest a dinner to see if there was still a spark to rekindle their relationship. The six months apart would have been a good break for them both. But he wasn’t that man anymore.
Sam didn’t want Andy. Sam wanted Zach.
But Zach had disappeared and was now across the room with his friends who’d surrounded him like the fucking Great Wall of China. That pissed Sam off; they had to know he wasn’t the enemy.
He pulled away from Andy. “What’re you doing here?”
Andy hefted the expensive camera around his neck. “I’m filling in. The guy Julian hired got stuck at LAX this morning, so he called me and asked if I could take the job.”
“And your boyfriend?”
“We broke up a month after I moved to D.C. I never should’ve left the city.”
“Guess it wasn’t meant to be.” Though Sam no longer loved him, he couldn’t help the dart of satisfaction at hearing Andy words.
“I have to do these pictures, but I’d like to talk later.”
“I’ve got nothing to say.”
“But I—”
Sam held up a hand. “When I wanted to talk to you six months ago, you couldn’t be bothered. Well, sorry, but I’m busy.”
“With hot little Zach? You’re hooking up with him now, nice.” Andy gave him a wink. “Maybe we can have a threesome—I bet he and his two friends shared at one point.”
“Go take your pictures.” Disgusted by Andy, Sam took his beer and sat down, ignoring the socializing around him. He drank his beer steadily, still a bit unsettled from his encounter with his ex. From his vantage point on the sofa he watched Andy photograph the group, growing angrier and more annoyed seeing Andy’s hand linger on Zach’s shoulder or hip when he placed him in the position he wanted him to stand. At one point, Andy leaned over and whispered in Zach’s ear, and Sam crumpled the empty plastic cup in his hand.
Unwilling to let Andy molest Zach any further, Sam strode across the room. Vibrating with suppressed tension, Sam hovered on the outskirts of the group, reluctant to create a scene in front of Nick’s family and Julian, yet equally incapable of standing by to let his ex hit on Zach. To his complete frustration, he couldn’t catch Zach’s eye; he wasn’t sure whether or not Zach was avoiding him deliberately, or if he was imagining it.
Why the hell was he so off-kilter? He’d never been possessive or had a jealous streak with guys he was with before, yet seeing Andy brush against Zach’s hair with the back of his hand on the fucking pretense of adjusting the lights made him want to bash his ex’s face in. No one touched Zach but him.
“Easy, killer.” Marcus spoke in his ear.
“I don’t trust him.” Sam answered back.
“I know you’re not talking about Zach, because he’s the most trustworthy person you’ll ever meet.”
“Of course I don’t mean Zach. It’s Andy.”
“You know him?”
“He’s my ex. I know what he’s capable of.”
“But you know Zach, and you know what he’s not capable of.”
