Sam didn't turn toward the door when he heard it open behind him. A gust of air rushed past him and then the door slammed shut. He closed his eyes briefly, and his pulse raced as he fought the urge to turn his head and look back; he couldn't risk turning around only to see that it wasn't her. Instead, he steadied his hand and took another pull from the pint glass in front of him.
Although he could feel her presence in the room, part of him feared that history might repeat itself. She might not show up. Within seconds, however, the air around Sam sizzled with her warmth as she slid onto the stool beside his and slipped into his peripheral vision. Her very welcome scent surrounded him, and he allowed it to lure him in for the first time in a year. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her wiggle out of her coat and deposit it on the adjacent stool. A second glass—this one full—sat idly in front of him, and he slid it slowly in her direction without turning his head. Sam knew he had to look at her. He needed to confirm that she was actually there. Before he could do that, though, her soft hand rested lightly on his forearm. It was steady and sure.
As he swiveled slowly toward her, his knees briefly bumped against hers and suddenly, he and Andy were face to face. Her dark eyes seemed to want to assure him that this time, she was there with him. Of course she would know memories of that ill-fated day still haunted him. She would know those memories were assaulting his mind at that very moment. She had a knack for knowing things about him that even he didn't know sometimes.
"I'm sorry I didn't come," came out of her mouth in a rush. She removed the hand from his arm, and Sam missed the contact immediately. Any disappointment he felt was short-lived, however, because she quickly reached down to where his hand was resting on his thigh and slid her fingers into the palm of his hand. The light pressure of their joined hands on his leg took center stage. With the exception of some brief contact after he was shot, this was the first time they had really touched each other since before he ended things between them. Colors, sounds, smells, tastes . . . everything in his life had been muted since he made the mistake of letting her go. Now, with this sudden physical reconnection, feelings and sensations he hadn't known for so long came cascading back to him. All he could manage was a deep breath and a welcoming smile as waves of relief crashed over him. He felt fully alive for the first time since he'd forced Andy out of his life after Jerry died.
Still holding her gaze, Sam said, "When you didn't show, I knew it was my fault. It was too late to fix things between us. I waited too long." He remembered the desperation and hopelessness he'd felt at the knowledge that she wasn't coming. He didn't know how to move forward at that point. She was the best thing in his life and he'd driven her away.
"It wasn't too late. I should've come," she responded immediately. "I was confused and hurt, but my feelings for you hadn't changed."
Sam really needed to hear that, but more than that, he needed to know she still felt the same way. "How about now? How do you feel now?" he asked carefully.
"Sam, I think I was pretty clear about my feelings in the ambulance." Andy laughed self-consciously. She looked down for several seconds, and when her eyes returned to his her cheeks were flushed. Sam didn't think she'd ever looked so beautiful. She furrowed her brow as she asked, "Do you think they've changed during the past month?"
"Heat of the moment, Andy," he said with a smirk, tossing her own words from a year before back at her.
"You're a real funny guy," she fired back, rolling her eyes at him. "Okay. I get it. To be clear, I meant everything I said after you got shot."
"Good." Sam swiveled back toward the bar in search of some liquid courage. He took a large gulp before turning back to her, all the while never dropping her hand. He planned to hold onto her as long as she would let him. "I meant everything I said that day when you were holding the grenade. And I still do."
Sam watched as a grin slowly materialized on her face, and he knew it was because of him. Swiping his hand across his mouth, he attempted to hide his own smile. Seeing her happy made him feel validated.
Andy picked up her glass for a drink, staring at him intensely over the rim as she shifted on the stool so that her legs came to rest between his. Sam was more than okay with that.
"What would you have said if I had come?" she asked wistfully.
She moved and one of her legs pressed against Sam's lightly. He wondered if it had been an accident or if being so close without really touching each other was making her as crazed as it was him.
Sam put his elbow on the bar, resting his cheek in his free hand as he thought about all the things he would have said to her—all the things he still wanted to say to her. "I would have said I made a mistake . . . that I knew it as soon as I drove away from you. I couldn't admit it to myself at first because I thought I was doing the right thing, but I knew. And I would have done everything I could to assure you that if you gave me a second chance I'd never hurt you that way again."
Sam considered it a good sign that she was smiling back at him. Although time had seemed like their enemy for so long, perhaps it had also been their friend by allowing them the space to heal.
"That sounds nice," she responded. He could hear the emotion in her voice. "I don't know how I would have reacted then, but I like hearing those things from you now."
"I mean them now, too," he told her slowly. "If anything, I mean those things more now than I did then. I'll do anything to make this work."
"Me, too." She squeezed his hand. "So we said we'd give each other a month to get our ducks in a row, right?"
"Yeah," he agreed warily, wondering where she was going with the statement. "But for the record, you were the one who mentioned the thing about the ducks . . . ."
She laughed at him. And it wasn't just a polite laugh. It was a real Andy McNally laugh—the kind he wanted to hear every day for the rest of his life. "Well, I did it. I got my ducks in a row. I ended things with Nick. I just thought you should know that," she offered up.
"You broke up with Collins," he repeated, not sure he completely believed her. If it were true it would mean there were no more impediments to them being together. With that news, everything clicked into place and he knew they could actually try again if they both wanted it.
"I did." She was sending him an inviting smile, and he knew she recognized what that meant for them as much as he did.
"It's probably stating the obvious, but Marlo and I ended things." He knew everyone at 15 must know Marlo had left town after everything that happened, but still, he wanted Andy to hear it from him. She deserved to hear it from him.
"I guess I did hear something about that . . . ."
He glanced down at their hands, smiling to himself as Andy rubbed her thumb slowly across the back of his hand. Every touch was amazing to him, and he made a note to himself right then to never take anything with her for granted ever again.
"So what does our second chance look like?" he asked, wanting to hear her thoughts but even more than that, just wanting to hear her voice talking only to him.
Smiling back at him she predicted, "I think it looks pretty good. I see us getting our acts together and building something really special."
"I can do 'special,'" he agreed, nodding his head. He knew he had a ridiculous smile on his face, but there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.
When she told him she needed to use the restroom, he reluctantly let go of her hand, wondering how he was ever going to let her out of his sight now that he had her back in his life again. He didn't think he could be without her for even a second. As Sam watched her walk toward the back of the bar, she glanced back at him flirtatiously. It had been a while since that happened. Well, maybe not that long. They had shared some moments during the past year, but it had been a while since she openly flirted with him and he acknowledged it. He fully intended to acknowledge it now as he got up off of the stool and followed her to the back hallway. He saw her go into the ladies room and leaned against the wall beside the door to wait for her.
When the door opened and Peck came out, he cringed, wondering what was going to come out of her mouth.
"I assume you're not waiting for me," she observed as she walked past. Exiting the hallway, she turned back and said, "She'll be right out." That was the nice thing about Peck. She didn't linger.
Soon enough, he heard the sound of the sink and then the door creaked open. "Wow. Couldn't wait for me to come back?" Andy teased him.
"Nope." He shook his head slowly, walking her backwards until she was up against the wall and their faces were inches from each other. Without preamble, Sam put his hands on the back of her head and pulled her into a deep, undulating kiss. As he poured himself into it, all of the pain and longing he'd felt when he wasn't with her disappeared. Not wanting to lose the connection with her, he could hardly tear himself away to breathe. Now that he'd tasted her again his desire was insatiable. He gently brushed her hair back behind her shoulder and kissed the side of her neck, following an invisible trail across her jaw line to her chin. He worked his way back to her mouth, cradling her chin in his hands as he did so. Andy sighed against him. Her hands slid smoothly up his back until they reached his shoulders and dug in, pulling him down toward her. He took that as a signal that she wanted more.
Sam managed to utter something that sounded like, "Do you need a ride home?"
"Mmhmm," she confirmed as the feeling of her lips on his distracted him from all rational thought.
Grappling with the control that was rapidly slipping away, he pulled himself together enough to breathe out, "McNally, let's get out of here."
"Okay," she agreed, slowly pulling back and nodding as she rested her forehead against his. A look of understanding passed between them. That was what he'd missed most—the unbelievable feeling of being connected to someone who instinctively knew who he was and what he wanted.
Sam stepped back and took one of her hands, pulling her behind him as they emerged from the hallway. He maneuvered them through tables and bar stools on their way to pick up their jackets and pay the tab. Dropping some money on the bar, he picked up Andy's coat first and held it out for her. Then, simply because he could, he turned her to face him and started buttoning it for her, ignoring the look of amusement on her face. It had been too long since he could do anything for her, and now that he could, he wanted to button her coat. He needed to know that she was warm. As soon as he slipped into his own coat and zipped it, Andy took his hand and pulled him toward the door. Sam held it open for her with one arm and they exited into the night together.