Page 15 of Run For Me
“Okay… Come in.” I sweep my arm toward the living room on my left and he moves in, tugging his backpack higher on his shoulder. I shut and lock the door behind him. “I can’t believe you’re here.” The words were meant to stay in my head and not be said out loud. I do that a lot and it’s something I need to work on. I’m used to being alone, so it’s not usually a problem.
“Good surprise then?” he questions, sitting on the couch with his bag on the floor beside him. He pats the spot beside him, and I walk over, trying to figure out what I am going to do about this.
“How long are you here for?” I sit beside him, careful to keep space between us, but he scoots closer, puts his arm around my shoulder, and pulls me to him.
“I can’t believe we’re finally together,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to my neck that has me cringing. He sighs and pulls back. “Just until Sunday.”
Just?
I nod. “Because classes start on Monday,” I mumble to myself.
“Yeah… I wish I could stay longer.”
“You know I’m going to be busy, right? I probably won’t be here much because of classes and stuff.”
“Your schedule isn’t that heavy,” he says carefully, almost like he’s finally catching on to my attitude.
I clear my throat and get off the couch, pulling from his embrace to go into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. His gaze is on me, thanks to the open-concept house, but I ignore it and guzzle half the bottle while I try to figure out how to respond to him. I hate being away from home, and going back and forth to classes was a struggle enough, but now… I’m going to have to find something else to do too.
“I know, but I told a friend I’d stay late at the library so we can do work together.”
When I look at the couch, I see him staring at me with a furrowed brow and a slight frown. This is not how either of us imagined this meeting going, and I hate that I’m acting this way at all, but I can’t help it. His showing up has thrown me for a loop, and my head was a mess before. For years, I’d thought of meeting Sam and the thought was exciting. It was comforting. But lately? It’s changed. And right now? No part of this feels good.
I didn’t agree to this. He’s forced it on me, and I don’t like being forced into things. Well… not things that I don’t want.
“Is something wrong?” he questions slowly.
The bottle in my hand crunches as I squeeze it too hard. “Of course not.”
“I just thought you’d be happier to see me.” The disappointment in his voice makes my stomach heavy. I close my eyes and take a breath before putting the cap on the bottle and placing it on the counter. I walk back to Sam and stop in front of him.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper as I sit beside him and rest my head on his shoulder. “It’s been a weird day, and I can’t believe this is real.” That is partially the truth… mostly the truth, I guess.
Sam kisses my forehead, and the guilt over everything makes me sick to my stomach.
Sam is perfect—always has been. He drove over five hours to surprise me, his girlfriend of a year and best friend of six. Could I be any more ungrateful? Girls would die to have a man like him. He’s sweet, thoughtful, and he is sexy as hell. Plus, he’s smart, and he’s going to school to be a lawyer. What more could I possibly need?
“Neither can I,” he whispers back, kissing my head again. The gesture is sweet—too sweet, too soft.
My phone dings from the bedroom with an alert from Surge. I frown, my body going cold as I realize who that must be. Thankfully, Sam doesn’t react to it, but my hands are itching to check it, wanting to know what the journal thief has to say. He already said good night when I told him I needed to think about his offer—what more could there be?
“I’m going to get ready for bed. I’m tired.” I sit up and move toward the bedroom. When I hear him behind me, I stop and glance over my shoulder.
“What? Don’t tell me you’re going to be shy,” he says with a smug smirk. I just stare at him, and he sighs, running a hand through his light brown hair. “Fine. I’ll wait here.”
I dash into the bedroom, close and lock the door. The wood is cool against my back as I lean against it for a moment to settle my nerves. I push off to search for my phone on the bed but am struggling to find it. Tossing the blankets around, I dig through them to look for my phone. It has to be here somewhere. I feel the weight of it on the blanket as I shake it, but it’s too late to stop my phone from flying off the bed and hitting the floor.
“Shit.”
“Everything okay in there?” Sam calls from right outside the door.
“Yeah, just dropped my phone!”
I hurry over to it, and with trembling fingers, I pick it up. The notification tells me it’s who I thought it was, and he’s sent aphoto. The fact there is a small preview has my chest hurting. Glancing at the door to my bedroom, I swallow hard. I’ve never had to hide my notifications before. There was no one to hide them from and no reason to hide them. Before I check what the photo is, I go through my settings and change them so there is no preview, and the pop up will only tell me the app it’s coming from. Then I navigate to the app, open the messages, and pull up the photo.
I cover my mouth to hide the gasp. I stare at the photo for so long, taking in every little detail, and trying to imagine how the hell that happened. I try to pull my gaze away, but I can’t. But when my legs clench together because a tingling starts between them, I swipe the picture away. As I back out of the message, I realize there is a text with it, so with a heavy sigh, I go back in to read it.
Right below the photo he sent, the photo of what I can only assume is his, uh, man juice? all over a navy-blue hand towel, is his message.
