Page 72 of Something Good
The look of surprise on Will’s face was comical. “Hegaveyou a car.”
“It looked like absolute trash at the time. He knew I needed a way to get to the shop in Brinkley that was more dependable than just hitching a ride with Rafi or one of the other mechanics, so he gave me the Charger, but it was in terrible shape. He’d salvaged it at auction, and his only condition for giving it to me was that it was up to me to fix it up. So it became a project we worked on together. A couple of the other guys in the shop helped out from time to time when work was slow.”
He looked down, picking at the label on his beer bottle. “I’m really proud of you, Sammy. You’ve done some amazing things with your life.”
“Thank you,” I said softly, uncomfortable with the praise but warmed by it all the same.
He continued to stare at the beer bottle, not meeting my eyes. “You’re so…different.”
“Different?”
He looked at me then. “The Sammy I knew was prickly. Defensive. Big asshole energy. Now you’re…I don’t know…softer. Gentler.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No, it’s just…” Will sighed. “I’m still attracted to you, and I don’t know what to do with that. I’m still angry at you for the wayyou left me. It was ten years ago, and we were young. I should be able to let that go, but I just can’t.” He chugged the rest of his beer. “And now I’m back here, and our paths keep crossing, and you’re so damn nice. I just don’t know what to do with it.”
“Do you want me to be a dick?”
“Kinda,” he said with amusement before getting serious again. “I don’t know what I want, Sammy. I’m coming off a divorce. Some days, I don’t feel like I even know who I am anymore.”
“I’m not gonna lie. I’m attracted to you too. But what you do with that information is completely up to you. I understand you’re still dealing with what that douchebag did to you. I don’t want anything more from you than you’re willing to give.”
He set his empty beer bottle on the table in front of him and rose, stretching his hand out to me. “I think what I need right now is to get some sleep.”
I looked at his outstretched hand, then back up at him. “I can sleep here on the couch.”
“You cannot sleep on this couch, Sammy. I don’t think you can even call it a couch. Just come sleep in the bed with me. I’m a big boy. I can handle it.”
I put my hand in his and stood. “Are you sure?”
He didn’t answer, just wordlessly stepped over Goldie and began pulling me across the room. We climbed into the bed, pulling the covers over us, both turning on our right sides, with Will in front of me. I didn’t know what to do with my left hand. I wanted to reach out and drag him into me, but he’d just told me he didn’t know what he wanted, and I didn’t want to push.
Apparently, he wanted the same because he reached back and grabbed my left hand, pulling it across his body. “Will?—”
“I just want you to hold me, Sammy. It’s been a long time since anyone has held me. I don’t want to think about what itmeans or that it’syoudoing the holding, at least not for tonight. I just want to be held.”
I scooted into him so his back was pressed to my front, and he melted into me, letting out a sigh of contentment.
And with a click, something inside me settled into place. Not long ago, I’d told Jimmy I didn’t need anyone, that I was happy being alone. But that was utter bullshit. What I needed was this.Will. In my arms. In my bed. In my life. I wasn’t gonna let him go again. Whether it took me six months or six years, I would find a way to keep him.
42
WILL
I woketo the sounds of the shower running and the bed next to me was empty, though still warm, as if Sammy had only recently gotten up. Goldie nudged my hand and gave a little whimper, indicating she needed to go out.
I let her out the back door, keeping an eye on her from the window. I was confident she wouldn’t run off, but his property backed up to a tree line that ran alongside the creek, and I suspected Sammy probably saw coyotes and other wildlife from time to time.
Morning business taken care of, Goldie happily trotted back to the door, looking at me expectantly for her breakfast. Which I didn’t have.Shit.
At that moment, Sammy emerged from the bathroom with a towel tied low on his hips, and every thought I’d had flew right out the window.
At eighteen and undernourished, he’d had some muscle definition but had still been more thin than was healthy. Today, he was the picture of health, with defined pecs and washboard abs that disappeared beneath the edge of his towel.Jesus.
“See something you like?”
My eyes snapped to his, and I could feel my cheeks heating. His words brought to mind a memory of when he’d said something similar not long after I’d come back to Astaire after graduation and had run into him at our spot.
