“Sam, get up,” I whisper urgently, roughly shaking his shoulder.
“Ten more minutes,” he grumbles, his eyes still closed.
“Uh-uh. Up. Now,” I order, scrambling off the futon.
“Stop being mean,” he whines, pulling the blanket up to his chin.
“Come on, Sam,” I grab a pillow and whack him on the head,but he doesn’t budge. “It’s ten to six. You know my momma will be waking up soon.”
And if she happens to stop by my bedroom and I’m not there… I shiver. She’ll beat me senseless and ground me until I’m married.
“Maybe…” I hesitate. “Maybe you shouldn’t come over so much.”
“Whoa.” Sam bolts to his feet, shaggy blond hair flopping across his tan forehead. “Where is this coming from?”
“It’s becoming too risky sneaking out here all the time. My momma’s going to pitch a fit if she catches me.”
Recently, Momma’s gotten stricter about my comings and goings. And that’s not the worst part. I’ve caught her staring at me with a calculating gleam in her eyes more than once. I can’t shake the feeling that something bad is going to happen.
“Don’t worry.” He curls his hands around my slender shoulders and gives me his signature lopsided smile. “I’ll be your human alarm clock from now on.”
I scoff. “Sam, you sleep like the dead.”
“Dang, have some faith in me,” he gripes, giving my earlobe a playful tug.
I sigh contentedly and lean into his hand. Most nights, I fall asleep curled against his chest, lulled by that same gentle touch.
“All right, I’ll give you a chance to prove yourself.” I hold up one finger. “Don’t let me down.”
“You know I got your back, girl.” He gathers me in a tight embrace and drops a soft kiss on my temple.
I pull back and meet his twinkling blue gaze. “I’m happy we’re friends.”
He’s always been more than that, though. He’s my secret. My shelter. My other half when everything else is going to shit.
He’s the one bright spot in my controlled existence. When Momma pushes me to the brink, he stops me from tumbling over the edge. What would I do without his constant presence in my life?
I hope I never have to find out.
A faint frown flickers across his expressive face, but disappears just as fast.
“What’s the matter?” I ask, furrowing my eyebrows.
“Nothing.” He shrugs nonchalantly.
“You sure?”
“I’m cool, Zilphia,” he clips out.
“Okay. I’m looking forward to kicking your butt in Monopoly again tonight,” I tease to lighten the mood.
“Hey,” he scowls in mock anger. “You won because you cheated.”
“I did not.” I chuckle, punching him in the arm. “You’re just a sore loser.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he says, shooing me toward the door. “Go on, get outta here.”
“I’m going, I’m going.” I slide my feet into my comfy pink bunny slippers. “See you later.”
