Page 72 of The Backtrack
Sam liked walking into his space and feeling surrounded by evidence of who he was now, but she’d never admit that to him. Not when she had the opportunity to tease him first. “So, when you decided to get a bachelor pad, did you just kind of google things that you should put in your home, or...?” Sam tried to hide her smile.
Damon bit his lip, then said, “I rewatched all of the episodes of MTVCribsand picked and chose from there.”
She inspected every inch of the place. After all, she knew who Damon had been in high school, but who was he now? Apparently, he was a guy who played enough Ms. Pac-Man to have the arcade game in one corner of his living room. Along with a truly meticulous and well-appointed built-in bar cabinet, which had slots for wine, racks of Band Practice Brews bottles, cocktail shakers, beer steins, martini glasses and top-shelf liquor. Damon rested his palms on the concrete slab of the kitchen island behind him. She tried not to notice his triceps, but they were definitely there.
Sam sat on the couch, far away from his muscles. “All you’re missing is a stuffed deer head.”
“Pretty sure I saw a lava lamp and inflatable chair in your room yesterday,” he said. “Just saying.”
The mention of Damon being in her room sent a rush of blood to her cheeks. She was sure he noticed her blushing wildly and looked down at her hands to try to hide the bloom there. “Not sure it’s fair to compare my teenage design choices with your own adult ones, but if it helps you sleep at night...”
Sam noticed a guitar hanging on another wall. “Remember when we tried to teach ourselves to play guitar the summer before senior year? I really wanted to learn, but you were so bad your dad threatened to ground you if we didn’t stop.”
“I remember.” His eyes roamed the length of her. “That’s the same guitar we tried to learn on.”
“The same...?” Her words caught as she realized he’d kept the guitar from their childhood. Even though he didn’t play, and even though she hadn’t been around to try herself. There the guitar hung in the center of his wall, like a reminder of that time.
Damon broke through her thoughts. “How about we go on the deck? I can’t have you finding more things in the house to make fun of me for.”
“Challenge accepted.” Sam followed Damon out of the back sliding glass doors and onto an expansive deck.
Unlike Pearl’s place, Damon’s was surrounded by lush and overgrown plants. He had a large back lot, but hadn’t done much other than adding a firepit, grill and some rattan chairs.
Damon came to stand next to her. Sam listened to the singing of happy insects as a leftover gentle breeze from the hurricane blew through her hair. Maybe it was the sun’s burning yellow rays shifting to a warm marigold or the fact that she was with Damon—a man who’d known her when she was deeply broken and stayed her friend just the same—but she leaned her head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her, and they watched fireflies sparkle between the trees.
Those quiet minutes weren’t something Sam had experienced in a long time; being so comfortable with another person that you could just sit in the silence with them.
Eventually, Damon broke it, though. “Do you want to talk about Bonnie showing up?”
Sam lifted her head from the nook of his arm. “She sure knows how to make an entrance. It’s like she waited for the hurricane to hit just to add some extra drama.”
“You didn’t know she was coming?” He pressed his palms into the railing.
“No one did.” Sam shook her head, still trying to wrap her head aroundwhyBonnie had come back at all. “Pearl had apparently left her a voicemail saying we were cleaning the house out. I guess Bonnie didn’t want to part with her collection of scrunchies.”
“Scrunchies are back in now, to be fair,” he said.
To her surprise, Sam started to laugh. A lot. Too much. She laughed so hard that tears streamed down her face. And then she was crying, actually crying, and Damon wrapped her up in his arms. She accidentally elbowed his ribs when she tried to hug him back, and she was apologizing and he was telling her to stop, but she was sniffling and embarrassed, and he managed to scoop her up and carry her inside.
Damon put Sam on the couch, poured her a glass of water and handed it to her. He sat next to her. She took a big sip and eventually stopped crying and wiped under her eyes with the back of her hand.
“I didn’t get a lot of sleep,” she tried to explain.
He gave her the gentlest look imaginable. “Let’s get you to bed, then.”
Sam nodded. Damon disappeared into a room, and when he came back, he said, “I’ve got a T-shirt and boxers for you in the bathroom, and a toothbrush. Your breath is terrible,” he joked.
She blew a breath into her palm and sniffed. Yeah, he was right. “Mind if I borrow your phone charger, too?”
“Sure thing. I’ll charge the rental fee for the cable to your room.”
Sam cracked a smile. She was starting to feel too comfortable with Damon and she needed clarity, even if it killed the mood. “What are we going to do about us?”
“Let’s talk tomorrow. Your mom randomly showed up at your door. And there’s a rat the size of an overweight dog living in your room. You need sleep. Then in the morning, after you’ve rested, we can talk.” Damon bent down and left a soft kiss on her forehead. “You need a break. Let me take care of you tonight, okay?”
Sam closed her eyes. She was exhausted. Since coming home, she always seemed to be exhausted. Damon was right; she needed sleep. But she also needed him.
“Will you stay with me?” she asked, her voice so low she barely heard it. But Damon did.
