SeanThis is bad. Very bad. Like three schoolboys in trouble, we look at each other, trying to decide who should go first. I know it should be me, but I feel like Sam’s not going to listen to a word I say at this point.Marcus clears his throat and takes a step forward, palms outstretched in a gesture of peace.“How about we go out to the bar and sit down? You look pale Sam.”He’s right, she does. Despite the fire in her eyes, she’s still thin and only beginning to get over the exhaustion that’s plagued her for months. My fingers itch with the desire to go to her and hug her tight, but I can’t until I’m certain I won’t scare her.She reverses slowly out of the hallway, never turning her back on us. The bar is completely deserted. Any shifter who heard that ruckus, or saw Marcus heading in to sort it out, rightly bolted, taking any fragile humans with them. Sam perches herself on a stool and I exhale, relieved she won’t keel over from shock in front of me.
Sam Sean doesn’t speak for a second, just blinks at me, stunned. Like he doesn’t really believe it’s me. I should have called, but I thought a bold statement was the way to go. What if he turns me away? I’ve no job, no apartment, and nowhere else to go. If he turns me away, I’ll take Cooper up on the offer of his cabin until I can get myself somewhere of my own. “Okay. Never mind. I thought…” I trail off, realising how dumb that sounds. Twice I’ve walked out on this man, why would he ever let me back into his life? I’m reaching down for my bag when his deep voice stops me in my tracks. “Sam. If you so much as touch that bag, I’ll tie you to my bed so you can never leave me ever again.” He crossed the room in three long strides before he scoops me up and slams his mouth down on mine. “John. Bag. Office,” he barks as he walks us straight out of the bar and around the corner toward his small house, my legs still wrapped tightly around his waist.
SamThe flashing red and blue lights in the club are sending my brain haywire. My heart thumps hard against my ribs in tune with the heavy bass music as I press my body against the cold concrete wall. It feels nice against my clammy skin, even though it’s scratching the backs of my arms as I tremble.This was a terrible idea.If I can barely get through a night in my apartment without having a panic attack, why did I think a night out in a busy bar was going to be any better?Because I’m desperate, that’s why. I don’t sleep anymore, too afraid of the nightmares that will come. Going out partying seemed like a better alternative to another lonely night staring at the four walls of my tiny apartment. It’s not though. It’s way worse.Closing my eyes, I force myself to drag in a deep, shaky breath and hold it, counting to ten as I try to control my overwrought nervous system. Adrenaline is flooding my system, telling me I’m in danger again and that I need to run.I’m not in danger. I’m in
SeanLugging another crate of beer into the basement storeroom, I get irrationally angry at an empty box that has the nerve to be exactly where I want to stack these.“What did that box ever do to you?” John comments, as I stomp on it in frustration, before kicking the flattened cardboard across the room. He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything else as I turn and stomp back up the stairs. The steam coming from my ears is all the warning he needs to keep his thoughts to himself.In the quiet of the dark bar, I rest my forearms on the counter and hang my head between my arms, trying to calm down. I rarely lose my temper. Or should I say, I used to rarely lose my temper.It’s happening far too frequently lately. What kind of grown man has a tantrum over a misplaced box, for crying out loud?The ringing of my phone worsens my mood further. I’m not in the mood to speak to anyone right now. I reach into my back pocket and pull out the offending device, stunned when I see the last name
SeanJohn happily agrees to look after things at the bar for me for a few days while I take a break. Truth be told, I think he’s relieved to get rid of me. It’s probably fair to say I’ve been moping since Sam left.As I toss an overnight bag into the bed of my truck, I shake my head in disbelief. I can’t believe I let myself be talked into driving hours to see a woman who ran away from me before, and who hasn’t asked to see me now. Talk about setting yourself up for another fall. I’ll probably be on my way home again in a few hours after being told with words instead of actions this time that she doesn’t want anything to do with me. I have a feeling it’s going to hurt just as much second time around.Driving gives me too much time and nothing to distract me. My thoughts return repeatedly to three months ago and I replay the time we had together over and over in my mind. Driving myself crazy and reminding me why I will always need to know that she’s okay. Even if it’s without me.Three
SamStanding under the warm water, face turned toward the spray, I push my hair back from my face and let the water just run down my body. I’ve been in the shower for way too long, and I’m going to be late for work, but I can’t quite make myself leave. It’s warm and cosy, and it makes me long to crawl back into bed. Except I’ve fallen into that trap before. The moment I get back under my duvet, the promised sleep will disappear from reach yet again and I’ll waste another hour staring at the ceiling.At least it wasn’t my usual nightmares about the fire that kept me awake last night, it was a horror show of my own making.Sean. I can’t get him out of my mind.Normally, I lie in the bed, afraid to close my eyes in case when I open them again, I’ll be back in a dark room, coughing, and choking as I try to find the door. Last night, I was afraid to close my eyes because he’d be there, his steady presence and his kind smile. Instead of waking up convinced I could smell burning, I woke up i
SeanStupidly, I convinced myself that I was only here to make sure Sam was fine. That once I saw for my own eyes she was doing well, I could tell her friend Tara to stay out of her business and I’d be on my way back to Grey Ridge. More than likely after re-opening some old wounds, but more at peace knowing that she really was getting on with her life after the fire. And she deserves that.This master plan even included avoiding speaking to Sam. She didn’t invite me here. She wasn’t the one asking me to insert myself back into her life. It’s a bad enough blow to my confidence that she snuck out of my bed in the middle of the night. Never to be heard from again. To let her know I’m still pining for her, and now practically stalking her, would make me look far too pathetic. My male ego is far too fragile to handle it.But all that went out the window the moment I saw her emerge from her apartment block, looking gorgeous as always, but without the usual spring in her s
Sam“Either can I,” I mutter, shaking my head and choosing to ignore the second part of her declaration. Not sure whether to be happy or angry, I settle somewhere around indifferent. She knew where I was. I wasn’t the one who left. She could have come back any time if she really wanted to.Okay, maybe more pissed off than indifferent. But in my defence, it’s for good reason.Ignoring the wounded look in her eyes when I don’t immediately return the sentiment, I grab her hand and steer her toward the nearest coffee stand, ordering her a drink and a donut. A quick look up shows three people from her office pressed to the glass, watching our every move with curiosity. To give us some privacy, I drag her toward the park across the street and settle her onto a bench, watching with frustration while she picks at the damn thing instead of biting into it.“Sean, what…”“Eat,” I snap, cutting her off, and she fires a withering look at me that would cut a lesser man in