Carl nods. "I get what you're saying, Rory, and if you don't want to talk about it, then we won't. But for the record, I think you're wrong."
I don't respond. What would be the point? She doesn't know how screwed up I really am, so she can't understand why Sam and I could never happen, not for real, and just debating it is making my heart ache in the worst way. After such a wonderful afternoon, I was in such good spirits, and I don't want to be brought down.
"Alright you, I need to shower and get ready if we're going out," I say, shaking off the melancholy that threatens to overtake my mood. Carl glances at her watch and jumps up.
"Damn, we're meeting in the lobby in an hour and I haven't started my makeup!" she yelps.
I laugh. I have to shower, dry my hair, and get dressed in the same hour she's concerned about completing her makeup. The truth is I could be ready in twenty minutes.
I see her out and walk back to Sam's suite to give him the bad news about tonight, but the way he's standing there staring at me makes me think he might already know.
"No room service?" he says with a disappointed pout.
I shake my head in confirmation. "Carl needs girl time and I owe her, she's always there for me."
Sam closes the distance between us and slides an arm around my waist. "Yeah I know." He leans down to kiss my hair. "But I don't have to be happy about it."
I laugh. "We're all meeting up after dinner anyway," I offer in consolation, to him or myself I'm not sure. "Wait, how did you know our night in was canceled?" I narrow my eyes at him. "Eavesdropper!"
A chuckle bursts free from his chest. "Hey! At least I admit it! And at least I stopped listening when you started talking about me," he adds with a wry smile.
"I have no idea what you're talkin' about," I tease, biting my lip to suppress my telltale smile.
"Is that so, baby girl?" he says softly, bending at the knees so we're eye to eye. My breath catches in my throat.He really is stunning."So you telling Carl that you bet Tuck misses her right now, that was just a coincidence?" he asks, his eyes alight with humor.
I try to come up with some witty response, but with Sam's face so close to mine, all I can focus on are his full, pink lips, slightly swollen from a day's worth of kisses. "I... may have inadvertently overheard a small part of your conversation," I whisper.
Sam grins triumphantly. "That's what I thought," he breathes, and leans down for a kiss, but I pull away at the last second as retribution for forcing my confession.
"Hmm, well I guess I need to go shower and get ready for my girls' night," I tease, and turn to walk back to my room, intentionally giving him time to stop me, which he does by grabbing my hand and yanking me back to him. I laugh.
"Girls'dinner," he corrects, and then kisses me in earnest, liquefying my knees and making me reconsider prioritizing my friendship with Carl over a night in with him.
He pulls away with a satisfied smirk, clearly pleased with my punch-drunk reaction. "Hurry up, beautiful girl, I've got to be down there in less than an hour and I need to kiss you some more before dinner to hold me over."
I nod and wordlessly head back to my room to take my shower.
I want to hurry, as he'd instructed, but if I plan to be intimate with him again tonight, I have to make this a utility shower. My bikini line is waxed, but I take the time to go over my legs with my razor carefully, knowing that if the evening goes the way I hope, his hands will be all over them in just a few long hours.
I don't bother drying my hair, instead I sit out on the balcony, allowing the wind to dry it into beachy waves, and light the cigarette I bummed from Dave last night, but never got around to smoking. Fortunately it was still in my bag, unbroken.
I try not to think too much about this thing with Sam and me. I know if I analyze it any more, I will just come to the same conclusion I've already come to time and time again. That it is temporary and I will end up be hurt. But right now, on spring break, I intend to enjoy every minute of it I can - this small taste of a normal, happy, future that simply isn't in the cards for me, thanks to Robin Forbes.
I slip on a white sun dress and dress it up with a thin black belt around my waist. I pair it, as usual, with my black motorcycle boots. It's a little short for me, but it comes to mid-thigh, and I know it will be longer than anything the other girls have on tonight.
I know I won't look nearly as dolled up as I did last night without Carl's cosmetic expertise, but it doesn't really matter. I feel more comfortable in just a little mascara and lip gloss anyway, and it isn't as if Sam didn't already know what was under all that powder and shine.
When I'm satisfied that I'm presentable enough, I knock timidly on the adjoining door to Sam's suite, not wanting to catch him getting dressed. Well, maybe that's not true, but knowing it would be impolite to just barge in as if I had some inherent right to be there.
Sam opens the door with an inquisitive look, as if he disagrees that I should have hesitated to just walk on in, but his expression changes immediately as he looks me over. He's in jeans, the waistband of his boxer briefs peeking out from the top, and nothing else, making it impossible to look away from the taut muscles of his perfect pecs and six pack.
"You're so fucking beautiful," he murmurs, wrapping his arms around me. I sigh, breathing in the clean scent of a freshly showered Sam. He's freaking delicious. "Let me just grab my shirt." He releases me and heads back into the bedroom. I see his tablet sitting on the coffee table and remember I need to email my mom to check in since my forgotten phone died in my beach bag hours earlier.
"Can I use your iPad to email my mom?" I sit on the sofa and pick it up.
"Sure," he calls from the bedroom, "just, uh, wait a minute-"
Sam rushes out to me, but it's too late, I'm already powering it on, and my heart stops the instant the screen lights up.
