Page 11 of Love Off the Rocks
“It was one night. It ended awkwardly. And I don’t know how to recover. Let alone approach her again. Okay? Happy?” Sam sighs.
“No,” I say. “I’m not happy. What happened wasn’t a big deal. Just get back on that horse, bud. Ride it all the way into the stables.”
“Are you comparing the love of my life to a horse?”
“She’s the love of your life?”
“She could be if I hadn’t embarrassed myself.”
“It happens. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Only guys it’s never happened to say that,” he grumbles.
“Sam, it’s a natural part of life—”
“Did it ever happen to you with Mags?”
“Sure.”
“On your first date?”
“Well, no, but later in our relationship—”
“Exactly. Once she already accepted you as a person with faults.”
“Sam,” I start.
“We gotta go,” he says. “You’ve got a meeting to lead, a router to unplug, and a comeback to think up so you don’t look like such an idiot around Mags.”
“Did I sound like an idiot?” I ask. The sort of question you can only ask your best friend who you’ve known forever and ever.
“Totally.”
“Are you just saying that because I made you talk about Nancy?”
“Probably.” He opens the door and steps into the hall, just as Mags is doing the same. I elbow him and nod in her direction.
He whistles a cat call. “The back of that beautiful head can only belong to one person. I should know, I stared at it through four years of business and marketing classes.”
She pauses and turns her head slowly. “Sammy?”
“The one and only, baby doll.” He opens his arms. “Give me some sugar!”
Mags runs into his embrace and hugs him tight. A twinge hits me right in the heart. Partly because she’s greeting him the way I wished she’d greeted me. Instead, I got cool indifference and projectile vomiting.
The three of us had met at first-year student orientation in college and became inseparable. When she left me, she left Sam too, losing his friendship in the process. For him, she holds no grudge. For me?
Well, you saw that play out.
The two link arms and stroll down the hall, heads bent together, chattering like little girls. I follow them down the large winding staircase to the ground floor below, noting the faint smell of rancid skunk still lingers in the air.
6
Mags
Sam and I do an elevator pitch version of catching up as we make our way to the great room, then stand there looking for seats. There aren’t two together. Anywhere.
Nancy, the girl from earlier, glares at me. Specifically, the arm that I have wrapped around Sam’s.
