“Oh, whoa. That seems kind of… harsh,” Tyler says.
“The thing is, she was totally right.” I breathe out a heavy sigh. “I’ve always had this… inferiority complex, I guess. And there’s no good reason for it. My parents are amazing, and even though I’m an only child, I was folded into Mason’s family, and my cousins became my siblings, so I was never the ‘lonely only child.’ But I’ve always had this hang-up that I’m not enough, like there’s nothing interesting or remarkable about me. Honest to fuck, if you looked up the word ‘average’ in the dictionary, my photo’s there. I was an average student, I drive an average car, I make an average salary, yada yada yada. Anyway, it’s not a big jump to get from Average Guy to ‘as exciting as watching paint dry,’ so I’ve always tried to be whatever my boyfriend or girlfriend wanted, or at least what I thought they wanted.”
Why the hell I’m spilling all these deep, dark thoughts all over Tyler, I have no idea. I’ve never talked about this stuff with anyone, not even Mason.
“Oh, Sam,” Tyler says quietly.
“I thought about it a lot, and I think she was right though. So, I haven’t dated anyone since we broke up. I’ve been trying to figure out how to ‘be myself,’ whatever the fuck that means.” I laugh bitterly. Fuck, talk about trying to scare a guy off. Spilling this shit makes me sound like a pathetic, sad sack. I have no idea why, but I feel safe telling Tyler, even though I’m embarrassed as hell right now.
He shifts so he’s staring straight into my eyes. “Sam, I hope you know none of that is true. You can’t compare yourself to anyone else. You, Sam, you’re… incredible… Wonderful… Amazing…”
I force a smile, but I know it isn’t reaching my eyes. “That’s sweet of you to say, but I mean, you’ve met my cousins. They’re all these exceptional people. Mason has this incredible presence, this aura around him that everyone’s drawn to. And Gracie’s smart as hell, with this firecracker of a personality. And Dylan is, like, this super-impressive guy. Not everyone gets him right away because they misunderstand his autism. But he makes such a strong impression on everyone because he’s this incredible person who’s totally different than anyone else.” I let out a snort.
“And then there’s good ol’ cousin Sammy. I am the most average guy you could possibly imagine,” I laugh, but when he starts to protest, I wave at Tyler to stop him. “I’m serious. It’s just the facts.”
I’m talking fast, and I can only hope he’s getting most of it. Embarrassing as it is, I feel like I need to get these thoughts out, otherwise I just might fucking explode.
I’m breathless as I finish talking. My cheeks are burning hot with shame, and I keep my eyes off him as I look around for something to keep my hands occupied. We forgot about our hot dogs during my embarrassing word vomit, both still holding them mindlessly over the flames, but somehow, they still look edible. I grab a couple of buns out of the bag, handing one over without raising my eyes to look at him, and then I concentrate really hard on getting my hot dog perfectly aligned in the bun and adding ketchup and mustard like I’m painting a masterpiece. Tyler still hasn’t said a word.
We eat our hot dogs in silence, and the awkwardness presses down on me so hard I feel like my chest is about to burst open.Fuckity fuck, is he going to say anything?I’ve probably made him so uncomfortable he’s dying to get the fuck away from me.
I’m so preoccupied with being embarrassed I don’t notice him shift to his knees and shuffle toward me until he swings one leg over mine, straddling my legs, which are stretched out in front of me.
I look up, meeting his eyes as he reaches for me, cradling my face gently in both hands and holding me so I can’t look away. His hands are cold on my skin, but his touch heats me up from the deepest part of my gut. He stares into my eyes, and I swallow nervously. Then he leans down and presses his mouth to mine. At first, I freeze, but very quickly, my body responds.
I lean into the kiss, responding eagerly, and he shuffles even closer so our dicks press together through our jeans as he kisses me like there’s no tomorrow. I wrap my arms around him, and he threads his hands into my slightly too-long hair, his fingers cold against my scalp.
I don’t know how long we kiss. It could be a minute, ten minutes, or an hour. All my blood rushed south to my cock as soon as he started kissing me, and I’m as hard as I’ve ever been. We grind against each other, feeding each other soft moans.
Breaking apart, I press my forehead against his, closing my eyes for a moment.
“Wow,” I say. “Maybe I should spill all my darkest secrets more often if this is how you react.”
He gives me a gentle smile, but his eyes are serious. “I can feel how insecure you are about this stuff. But please, please hear me, Sam. Average doesn’t mean being boring. You are one of the best people I’ve ever met. You’re reliable, and kind, and thoughtful. The fact that you’re not six foot six like Mason, or that you didn’t graduate at the top of your class like Grace, or whatever else you’re feeling inferior over… none of that means shit. You’re sincere and funny, and you have one of the best hearts of anyone I’ve ever known. Being dependable and reliable doesn’t make you boring; it makes you a solid person. Someone people know they can count on. You’re using those amazing qualities to tear yourself down when those qualities are some of the best things about you. I think you’re a fucking incredible person.”
There’s a pause while I swallow the lump in my throat. No one has ever said anything so simple but so meaningful to me.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Don’t thank me. It’s the truth.” He kisses me gently, brushing my cheek with his fingertips.
He pulls back a moment later, and we search each other’s eyes, for what, I don’t know. A moment later, his mouth curves into a mischievous grin. “So, I believe I was promised lessons in s’more making?”
“Let’s do it,” I reply as he shifts off my lap, and I dig out the marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers from the backpack. Tyler pulls me down onto the blanket beside him, and we spend the next hour snuggled together while I teach him how to make the best s’mores in the entire world.
CHAPTER 19
TYLER
I can’t breathe. My mouth and nose are full of dirt, suffocating me. I cough and sputter until I can take a gasping breath. The searing heat from the fire surrounds me, so hot it feels like my clothes are melting. My eyes are stinging, and the world has turned from color to shades of brown and gray. My palms are bloody from scraping against the sharp gravel beneath me, and there’s a bright red stain creeping across my abdomen. My ears are ringing so loud I feel like I’m underwater.Everyinch of me burns with pain, but I force myself to move. I’m disoriented and confused, but I know I need to get away before the flames reach me. My weapon. I need my weapon. I reach for it, but my arm won’t work. I look down and see why.
Everything below my elbow has been twisted around like it’s on backward. I don’t know what to do, and panic starts to rise in my chest. I’m going to die here in this godforsaken desert. There’s a body a few feet away from me. It’s Paddy, my platoon leader, and I don’t know if he’s alive or dead. I start to shake violently, and I just know I’m going to die here.
I snap my eyes open to find Sam leaning over me, his hands on my shoulders, shaking me awake. His mouth is moving—I think he’s repeating my name over and over. I sit up suddenly and grab his arm, bile rising in my throat. “I’m gonna be sick,” I choke out, and with lightning speed, Sam grabs a wastebasket and sets it in front of me just in time for me to empty my guts into it. Tears run down my face as I shake, retching uncontrollably, over and over. I can’t hear anything, but I can feel Sam running his hand up and down my back, trying to soothe me. Finally, it’s over, and I lean back shakily, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “I’m sorry. Oh my god, I’m so, so sorry,” I repeat over and over as I reach for my hearing aids on the nightstand, my hands still trembling so hard it takes a couple of tries for me to get them inserted properly.
“Hey,” Sam says once I get my aids working. There’s no way I can look him in the eyes. I am so goddamn humiliated. It’s a small consolation that I haven’t pissed myself on top of puking all over the place, but somehow, that doesn’t make things much better. I’m still breathing heavily as I continue to apologize, my mind spinning out of control, flipping out about how I’m never going to be able to face Sam again. How this thing I was most afraid of, Sam seeing what my nightmares do to me, has now happened, and I don’t know what I’m going to do.
Sam lets me catch my breath, and then he takes my chin gently and turns my head so I have to look at him. “Do not apologize to me. Do. Not. If you keep doing it, I’m gonna be insulted. Youlivedwhatever experience gives you those nightmares. Yousurvived. You should never be ashamed of that. If I can help you cope with some of this shit, that’s a fucking honor for me. You got that?” he says, a thread of steel running through his voice I haven’t heard before. It’s comforting, making me feel safe and causing heat to flare low down in my belly.
