My head jerked back. I hadn’t been prepared for the haunted expression on her face. What was going on with her? I gentled my voice. “You okay, Sam?”
She nodded. “Yeah.” Her voice was equally soft. “I just...don’t want to see her hurt. That’s all.”
Bullshit. I wanted to say that, to interrogate her, but I held back. She wasn’t talking about Taylor. “You’re not talking about Taylor at all, are you?”
There it was. I put it out there. We’d been through too much shit not to be honest. I waited, and got my answer when she hung her head. I was right. I murmured softly, “She’s not going to hurt me, Sam.”
“That’s what you say now.” She shook her head, grimacing. “You’re the glue of us. Did you know that?”
I smirked. “When am I not the glue?”
“No. I mean it.” The haunted look was back. She didn’t even hide it now. “Things have changed even since I joined the group, but the glue’s not Mason. Not anymore. It’s you. Mason doesn’t seem to care. I think he likes Taylor, but I know Nate and I are worried. And we…just…we don’t want you hurt. That’s all.”
“I’m good, Strattan.” I winked for good measure. “I’m always good. You know that.”
Her shoulders lifted up in a slow and deep breath. “Yeah, well.” She bit down on her lip before looking away again. “You’re like me, Logan.”
“What do you mean?”
“You grew up being hurt, just like me.”
I felt her words in my gut, and I didn’t like it. I frowned. “Well—” A flippant remark was on my tongue, but she shook her head, saying over me, “Don’t. Okay? Mason got to see his parents happy at some point. I know you didn’t. Neither did I, and if I did, I can’t remember it anymore. I know that kind of hurt goes deep, tunnels inside of you like a cancer. You mask it, just like I did.”
Fuck. She went deep, but sorry, Sam. I wasn’t going to go there. Not yet, anyway. I changed the subject, trying for a smile, “You haven’t been running as much lately.”
A wry laugh came from her throat. She looked away again, then nodded to herself before finding my gaze once more. “Surprising, huh?” I relaxed. She was going with the topic change. She was a sister to me, but I wasn’t ready. I didn’t want to go there with anyone. I hadn’t, except Mason. Then she was saying, “Considering my mom’s been back all summer.”
“Well, since you brought her up, yeah.” My lip twitched up. What a fucking psycho.
Sam’s mom, Analise, came back into our lives last Christmas, but Sam had stayed away from her. She’d refused to go home for holidays, and when summer break arrived, Sam spent a month at her dad’s house. She’d been back here, staying at the house with Mason, once he started early training. He told me Analise had been calling Sam more lately, pushing to spend time with her, so I had a feeling the old days when Sam would run for hours would be happening again, and soon.
“You know...” Sam gave me a forced smile. The corners of her mouth lifted, but it didn’t extend to her eyes. They still looked dead. “Never mind about what I said before. I love you, but you know what you’re doing.”
“You sure?”
She nodded, turning back to the hallway. Her head lowered, and her voice trailed off. “Yeah…” She looked over her shoulder one last time before going back to her bedroom. “Fuck her brains out.”
I smirked. “That’s the plan. As often as I can.”
TAYLOR
I’d been staying mostly at Logan’s house over the last month. I hated to say it, but most everything and everyone went to the backburner. It wasn’t that I wanted to do that. It just happened. Jason was busy with friends. So was Claire. I saw them every now and then, and Claire for lunch a few times a week, but that was it. Logan was the same. We saw Nate at parties, sometimes going with him, but we always left on our own earlier. And for whatever reason, we hadn’t crossed paths with Logan’s brother and Sam that often. There’d been a few times, but nothing where we spent a lot of quality time together.
Last night had been one of those times, and like the other mornings, I headed to class before Logan without a plan for the weekend. I overheard other students talking about the away game. They hadn’t had one yet, which wasn’t normal. People were excited, planning on road tripping for the event. I wondered if Logan was going to go, and what that meant about us, but I got my answer later.
Hey! Sex Machine here. How’s your day? Can we meet up Sunday night? We’re going to the game this weekend so we won’t be around.
We. He said we. My grin faltered. What did that mean? We.
Not me, as in he wouldn’t be around, but we, as in he and others, like they were all going to hang out together, like they were friends. Hearing my own thoughts, I rolled my eyes. I was being an idiot. I replied, Sounds good. Have a fun weekend!
Sweet. Talk to you later, Bruce.
I sighed and scooted lower on the couch. I had to ask myself the same question again: What the hell was I doing? I typed back, Will do. See you Sunday.
Figuring the conversation was done, I started to put my phone back on the table, but it buzzed again.
You’re probably going to get drunk text messages from me. Be prepared.
My grin returned. They better be good.
Only dick pics.
I laughed out loud. Promise?