Page 71 of The Backtrack
“You can stay at my place, Sam-Sam.” He met her gaze.
“What a smart man you’ve grown into, Damon.” Pearl elbowed Sam. “And what a generous offer, which we will of course take you up on.”
“You do not need to do this,” Sam said. She knew he was only agreeing to help because Pearl had asked. But there were other easier options, like Jessie’s floor, or the middle of the road. “I’ve obviously intruded on your space enough already.”
“A Rat Queen just moved into your bedroom,” Damon said. “I’m taking pity on you.”
Well, Sam couldn’t think of anything to say to that, really.
“Before you go, can we talk?” Bonnie’s frown lines increased, as if already bracing for theno. “Is now a good time? It will only take a minute.”
Sam knew enough about life that when anyone said it wouldonly take a minutethat meant a solid ten. And it wasnota good time for whatever nonsense Bonnie had planned. “No, no, thank you,” Sam said, then gave her a hard look.
“Do you want to go?” Damon asked in a low tone, likely sensing her angry vibration.
“Yes.” Sam fisted the side of her shirt and gritted her teeth.
Damon headed toward his motorcycle, and she did, too.
“Sam,” Bonnie called out. When Sam glanced back, she knew she was breaking a piece of her mom’s heart, but hadn’t this woman done the same thing to Sam, and worse?
“Let her go,” she heard Grandma Pearl say. “She’ll come back in her own time.”
Damon handed Sam a helmet and then settled his own on. He scratched at the back of his neck and then looked over to her. Their eyes met, and she saw a flash of something that was distinctly apprehension. He quickly glanced away.
“I promise to be a better house guest than the Rat Queen,” Sam said as she settled in behind Damon.
“For all you know the Rat Queen is very tidy and thoughtful. Maybe she’s making your bed right now.” Damon flipped the kickstand up.
Sam gagged and Damon laughed. “I love that for her. I hope she stays,” she said.
“Ready?” he asked.
She’d done this once before with him—hopped on the back of his bike, held on to him fiercely and taken a ride. But now...
“Sam?” he tried again.
She wrapped her arms around him, and his body momentarily tensed. “Is this okay?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said. Though his voice was low and deep and coming from a place inside him she’d only heard a day ago.
He revved the engine, which was when she saw Bonnie across the lawn, watching them with tight lips. Bonnie’s words once again rang in her ears.Don’t end up stuck in this place.
But she was stuck in this place, at least for now, and Sam couldn’t help but feel safe pressed up tight to Damon.
So maybe Sam was a disappointment, but she also no longer cared what Bonnie thought. Still, she hated the fact that her mom had a smug look on her face, like she’d always known this would happen, and was finally proven right.
30
Damon’s house was situated on a large plot of land just off the bike path. He pulled up to the seashell-covered driveway and parked in front.
Sam had often wondered what kind of place Damon lived in. Her Parisian studio apartment was in the perfect spot to hop around to different countries for traveling. So what kind of a home would Damon pick for himself? She’d imagined something edgy, modern and sharp—the way Damon’s style had always been. But as her flip-flops crunched along the broken shells and they walked toward the wooden porch, she could see that he’d chosen a classic A-frame. The house had to be at least seventy years old and elevated on hurricane-friendly stilts. While the shape was one that had existed in Tybee since her grandma was a kid, the outside was painted a rich and deep midnight blue.
Perhaps more importantly, the trees had been placed far enough away that there were no palms breaking into the house. As they took the steps in awkward silence, she asked, “How long have you lived here?”
Damon unlocked the front door and held it open for her. “Almost five years now,” he said as she walked inside.
She glanced around. There was a dark olive L-shaped couch with striped accent pillows. Behind the couch was a wall covered in framed albums from some of Damon’s favorite bands—My Chemical Romance, Tegan and Sara, Simple Plan, Paramore, Taking Back Sunday, Yellowcard and Good Charlotte. The walls were a warm evergreen, and the floors were a sleek polished concrete. From the outside, she’d assumed a traditional interior, but Damon had modernized the furniture and floors so it perfectly reflected his indie sensibilities.
