He's not your boyfriend, Rory!
I wince at my own reminder. No, he most certainly is not.
But what is he? What are we? I don't ask him. I can't. I know enough about guys like him to understand that right now we are probably just friends who have just incorporated some kind of "benefits" into the relationship, and asking him to define us would probably ruin the whole thing. Though Sam isn't really like those guys - he's not likeanyother guy really. But still, I can't risk it. Because, as he said, at least to me, he is a freaking god, with the power to quell my night terrors, and make my body sing. Not to mention my heart.
"Come on, we can order a movie, your choice," he tries to convince me, as if a movie is as appealing as what we did this afternoon.
"Does the room service menu have coffee ice cream?" I ask.
Sam grins. "I bet it does. And if not, I'll get someone to go out and get some for you, deal?" he asks hopefully.
I pretend to mull it over. "Okay, fine," I agree.
I'm rewarded with another kiss, and I allow myself to melt into it, into him.
We're startled out of it by knocking. Sam groans and slides out of bed, grabbing a pair of boxers from the drawer I raided the night before, and pulling them on on the way to the door. I follow him, slipping on the shirt he wore this morning and my bathing suit bottoms. He looks through the peephole and shrugs.
"Nobody's there," he says, and I blink at him, perplexed.
Knock, knock.
Oh, shit. It's my door.
"That's your room, Ror. It's probably housekeeping. Why don't you let them in. Just hang out here while they clean," he suggests.
I pad through the adjoining doors and am about to pull open my door when I decide to peek through the peep hole. I jump back.
Knock, knock, knock!
I hurry back to Sam, taking care not to make noise.
"It's Carl!" I loud-whisper. Surprise widens Sam's eyes.
"Rory! Wake up! I have your phone and I need to talk!" Carl calls through the door.
"She and Tuck have some seriously bad fucking timing," Sam grumbles.
I bite my lip to stifle a giggle and push up on my tip toes to kiss him. "I have to let her in. She needs to talk."
Sam's bottom lip pouts his disappointment, so I kiss it. "I'll be back," I whisper, and turn to go back to my room.
Sam swats my behind. "You better be, baby girl."
I practically swoon. I love his pet names. I was never such a sucker for endearments. Even before things with Robin got bad, hissweethearts and hisdarlin's never felt this sincere, and definitely never gave me this rush.
"Roryyyy!" Carl whines through the door.
I swing it open. "Jesus, Carl, I was sleepin'!" I lie, my lip involuntarily sliding through my teeth.
"Well wake up, you need to start getting ready for dinner soon anyway, and I need to bitch about Tuck," she mutters. I lead her to sit with me on the sofa in the living area. Carl has already showered and blown out her chic blonde hair, which she's flattened straight, though she hasn't done her makeup for tonight. She's in sweatpants and a pink tank top, clearly in lounge mode before what I assume she expects to be another wild night out on spring break. She hands me the beach bag I left behind when I ran after Sam earlier.
"What'd he do now?" I ask.
Carl sighs dramatically. "I don't know what the fuck to do with him anymore, Rory, I swear. After the beach we all went back to our rooms to shower and whatever and Tina wanted to go see Andrew so I went with her, but Tuck wasn't there. So I went down to the lobby thinking he'd be by the bar or the pool or something, and these drunk guys started talking to me. They were such dicks, they started hitting on me in the stupidest way, and I blew them off, and when I walk away, I see Tuck over by the gift shop giving me the dirtiest look, and he comes over and starts accusing me of looking for a hookup! From those drunk fucking assholes!"
Carl continues to rant about how Tuck gave her shit about being an "independent woman" who doesn't need a man and saying she acts all tough, and asking why he bothers wasting his time hooking up with "some bitch who obviously thinks she can do better". She's really upset. Idly I wonder if the "assholes" who hit on her in the lobby are the same group that I met in the elevator.
But Carl doesn't seem to realize that Tuck's accusations are just manifestations of his insecurities about their relationship. "Carl, honestly, you guys are driving each other crazy, and your friends too for that matter. He cares about you. In fact, I'll bet he's missin' you right now. I think he's probably in love with you, which is why he freaks out when he sees you talking to other guys."
