“Well, it’s time I did things for the right reasons. And if we’re handing out compliments, then bravo to you for forgiving my mother.” Another solid sip. “You make it look easy.”
“It’s actually not that hard when you see her with Samantha. She’s a different person.”
“My dad would say she’s the woman he fell in love with.” Sam surprised himself at his own lack of skepticism.
“He may be right.” It was clear she still believed in true love.
The bourbon was warm and relaxing. A sense of peace fell over him, and for the first time since that summer, Sam was calm, in the moment. There was, in fact, nowhere he’d rather be, than right here, right now, with Maya. “Although that practice isn’t necessarily the only thing I’m going after.” He dropped his voice to a whisper and held Maya’s gaze.
Her eyes widened, and her body grew tense. “About what happened earlier tonight...”
“What about it?” He moved slightly closer to her.
“It’s a good thing nothing happened.” She drank again, avoided his eyes.
“Is it?” he whispered, but didn’t move. His entire focus right now was on her lips. He tried to remember what it felt like to kiss her, but the memory of it failed him while she stood in front of him.
“Well, yes.” She fidgeted with her glass, trying not to look at him, but no matter where she looked, her eyes ended up on his. “I’m seeing someone.”
Sam nodded. “True, but a few dates hardly—” He spoke slowly, studying her. If he was not mistaken, her gaze kept falling to his mouth, even while she held her glass between them.
She licked her lips. “It’s more than a few dates.”
The moonlight shifted to her face. He was close enough to see her eyes darken, but not close enough to feel her breath. Sam’s gaze shifted from her eyes to her lips. Right then, he didn’t care that she was seeing someone, or that Ben slept mere feet away. Right then, he realized that he had been missing her for sixteen years.
“Samantha doesn’t know everything that I do.” She was still talking. “And anyway, he asked me to go away with him next weekend.” She took a large swallow of bourbon. “And I said yes.”
He snapped his gaze back to her eyes. The bourbon did nothing to keep his insides from quaking. Somehow, he was able to keep his voice calm. “You’ve been dating him for hardly a month.”
Maya downed the remainder of her drink. “What I do is really none of your concern.” She put down her glass and brushed past him. He gently grabbed her arm.
“I never should have let you leave.” Frustration added desperation to his voice. He didn’t care. “I should have come back for you again and again, until we were back together. Iwishthat I had come back for you.” If he could hold her, she would know. She would know that he belonged to her—always had and always would. She would know that she belonged with him.
Something in her softened, her breath quickened. She looked at his hand on her arm, and gently pulled free of him. “Don’t beat yourself up about it, Sam. I had my mind made up.” Without looking at him, she started back to his bedroom.
“Did you really?” He turned so he could see her.
She hesitated midstep before continuing to bed.
Sam poured himself another finger of bourbon, but this time, the drink failed to calm him.
Ben’s sleepy voice interrupted his thoughts. “Looks like you actually might have to fight for her.”
SAMFOUNDSLEEPonly in the wee hours of the morning. The thought of Maya with another man had gnawed at his insides, making sleep all but impossible. He woke to hushed voices and the inviting scent of coffee from the kitchen. Ben and Maya were laughing over their morning brew. Ben’s feet dangled from where he was seated on the counter, and Maya leaned against the granite next to him. They looked like they’d known each other their whole lives. Maya laughed as she squeezed Ben’s hand, and Sam was visited by the warm feeling that he was watching his family. He walked over to the coffeepot.
Maya studied Ben’s face. “You look just like Sam, except his hair has curls. And the eyes. You have your mom’s green eyes. Other than that, you could be brothers.”
Sam poured himself a cup of coffee. “We are.”
His warm feeling was cooled by Maya’s tight smile, and he absently gulped the hot coffee.
“Morning.” She stifled a yawn.
Sam’s mouth was slightly scalded and he tried to be subtle while sucking in some cool air. “Didn’t—didn’t you sleep well?” More cool air.
“No, I slept fine. Bourbon is great for sleep.” She stifled another yawn.
Sam carefully sipped his coffee and shrugged, amused that she was lying. Her hair was in a ponytail, and she was wearing her clothes from last night. She was stunning.
