I laugh, but honestly, the knowledge that he's attracted to me, that I can affect him, it's a heady feeling, and I revel in it.
****
We lay on the white sand, lazing in the dwindling afternoon sun. Tuck and Carl are getting along for now, and he sits behind her with his arms wrapped possessively around her middle. Sam lounges on my towel, and I lay perpendicular to him, my head pillowed on his perfect abs. The slow rise and fall of his breathing threatens to lull me to sleep, and I can't risk another nightmare in public. Yeah,no thanks- I learned that lesson on the plane.
I sit up. "Who's hungry?" I ask.
"Ugh, definitely not me. I'm still stuffed from brunch," Carl replies, playfully slapping her flat tummy. I guess they all ate before we came down this afternoon.
"Come on, princess, I want food," Tuck argues. I learned he originally started calling her "princess" to poke fun of her family's extreme wealth, which in this group is saying something. It seems to have evolved into a term of endearment, though, and one can usually tell whether or not they're getting along for the moment by his tone, which ranges from adoring to exasperated.
Sam stands. "Come on, let's go get some smoothies," he decides.
I smile. A smoothie sounds perfect.
We all get our things together and I slip my shorts on over my sun-dried swimsuit. We push a couple of tables and chairs together on the pool deck's lounge area to accommodate our group. Sam asks me what I want and I tell him to surprise me. Raising his hand in salute, he shoots me an adorable wink, and off he goes with his marching orders. As the boys wait for our drinks, Carl, Tina, Lily and I sit around and talk about them. I sense that Carl is dying to ask me about Sam, but she wouldn't dare in front of an audience, and I'm grateful for the reprieve, fleeting as it may be.
Sam brings me a strawberry-banana smoothie and I start gulping it down, only now realizing how hungry I was. I'd eat something more substantial, but with dinner only a few hours away I'd prefer not to spoil my appetite - an long-standing pet peeve of mine. Tonight we're having separate dinners for the boys and girls - spring break bonding and all that. I was looking forward to it before this morning. Now, not so much. It's interesting how many of us have kind of coupled up. Notsurprisingreally - except for Sam and me - but interesting.
Of course, I'm not sure if Sam and I are actuallycoupled up,or just exploring that "something more" he spoke of. I'm afraid I'll end up hurt, but I guess that was a foregone conclusion the moment I tripped over the edge of that cliff we called friendship, and started falling hard. But at least now I've got a shot at temporary happiness before the inevitable crash-landing.Stupid, slippery fucking cliff. I should've seen it coming. But then, the drop was too sudden, too steep, its hazard signs hidden by the haze of his masculine beauty, his generosity and kindness, and the kindred connection he once tried to explain. But you can't explain the inexplicable, and I was hurtling toward my impending heartbreak from the moment he stumbled upon me panicking outside of calculus.
"So we'll all meet up at the bar after dinner?" Andrew asks.
"Yeah, around eleven or so," Carl confirms.
"How's your smoothie, Ror?" Sam asks quietly.
I nod and smile, still lost in thought.
"Ha,Ror. Do you call her that 'cause she's so good in bed that that's what she makes you do when you fuck her? Ha!Roar!Get it?" Dave guffaws like the ape that he is, and I suck in air and try to pretend someone did not just referencefuckingme.
Ten, nine, eigh-
I'm yanked from my internal counting when Sam leaps across the table, knocking an empty chair to the ground in the process, and grabs Dave by his shirt. He drags him from his seat and shoves him up against the wall behind him. "I told you to show her some fucking respect!" Sam snarls.
"Cap,"Tuck warns.
"Dude, I was just fucking kidding. She can take a damn joke!" Dave defends, obviously frazzled, bordering on frightened.
"Cap, he got it," Tuck tries again to intervene.
Sam's jaw clenches, he bites his lip, and then I see his hand fist, and his arm rear back...
"Sam!" I yelp.
He freezes. His fist opens, and closes, then falls limply to his side. He takes an audibly deep breath.
"Youwillwatch how you fucking talk about her," he says simply, his calm tone belying the serious threat. To hisfriend.
Without another word, Sam turns and walks back toward the hotel lobby. I stand to go after him, but Carl grabs my arm to stop me.
"Rory, just give him a few minutes, okay?"
"I'm just gonna make sure he's alright." I try to pull away, but she doesn't yield.
"He's fine. Just let him cool down." She lowers her voice. "Look, Cap has anger issues. He used to get in a lot of fights. Not so much lately, but... if he's angry, just let him cool down."
"But-"
