Thank you for your continued support. I appreciate it.

Standard disclaimer.

Please forgive any extreme mistakes, my two younger boys were driving me up a wall.

Only two chapters left.

SAM

The girls made a quick exit, leaving Noah and me to our own devices. He ordered a beer, and if I weren't driving, I would've ordered an entire bottle of Jim Beam.

"That went brilliantly," I said, rubbing my temples.

Noah snickered.

"I didn't think it went that bad. Well, when Blondie showed up, that was about ten kinds of awkward, but..."

"That was just awkward?"

I couldn't believe that Cindy had popped by our table. Mercy and I seemed to be getting somewhere and then BAM! A blast from the past. Perfect fucking timing.

"I'm sure Mercy enjoyed that," I said, sarcastically.

Noah took a swig of his beer and said,

"Buddy, you need to tell me what happened between you two, because, a week ago, Mercedes probably would've been irked about that, but she wouldn't have cared that much. So stop with the bullshit and tell me what happened."

I arched a brow at him and he winked.

"Or I'll get the girl version from Quinn, in which, you will come across as a giant ass. Now, tell me your side of the story."

"I am a giant ass."

He tipped his chin down.

"Do tell."

The last thing I wanted to be doing, was talking female problems with Noah, but shit, I could tell by the way Quinn acted, she knew. So he'd find out sooner or later.

So I told him the bare basics, because, there was no way in hell, I was going to go into any details...not about Mercy. That was just wrong.

When was I finished, I really didn't feel any better, which, sort of confirmed, how much of an ass I'd been this entire time. I've had years of being the King of Assdom.

Noah sat back, shaking his head slowly.

"I think I need another beer to digest all of that."

"Shit! You and me both." I ran a hand through my hair. "So yeah, I fucked up. Royally."

"Well, people have fucked up more than you have, bro. Trust me on that." He leaned forward, his expression serious. "That shit with Zander is fucking terrible, but you didn't know that stuff was going to happen. Mercedes is a reasonable girl. She'll get over that."

"I don't think I can get over that." I paused, staring at the table. "The fucker hurt her, because of what I did in my past. If it wasn't for me, she would never have gone through that."

"But you didn't do that to her, man."

"Is there really a difference?"

"Yes," Noah said adamantly. "It's not a huge difference...but you did create the situation, and you sure as hell, didn't force that fucker to do anything. That's not on you, bro. It's just not."

I got what Noah was saying, but it would take a lot, to absolve me of that guilt.

"And that's not the big issue," Noah went on, eyeing me. "Did you lie to her about Sofia?"

"Shit!" I raised my hands. "I really don't know. I mean, when Mercy asked me about her, it was before anything went down between us. And I didn't think, she really thought of me any different. All I said, was that Sofia and I weren't like that. And we're not. We hooked up once over a year ago. I just wasn't thinking when I said it to Mercy."

"Hmm, technicalities are a bitch." Noah finished off his beer, eyes narrowed. "Did you really think, Mercedes didn't have it bad for you?"

"No. I didn't. I couldn't think that, because if..."

"If she didn't, then it would ruin your friendship...because, you have it bad for her. I get that, but damn, that girl...you must've been rocking some serious denial." He shrugged. "Makes sense, though...you secretly wanting her and shit."

"It does?"

Noah laughed.

"Yeah, man, you didn't like it, if a guy even looked in her direction. Hell, if I looked at her too long, you'd get pissed. And when you went after Nathan? That's some pretty hardcore 'friendship' right there."

"Shut up," I growled.

He smirked.

"So, what are you going to do? Be a pussy, or fix this?"

"Excuse me?" I shook my head. "Dude, you're lucky I like you."

"You're lucky I don't bullshit around." He winked, as he pulled the sleeve of his sweater down, covering one of the intricate tattoos etched into his arm. "Look. I'm being serious. You love this girl, right?"

For once in my life, I didn't hesitate.

"Yes. I love her." Holy shit! That was the first time I'd said it out loud. It shook me up and my voice was thick. "I love her more than anything."

"Then what's the deal?"

I stared at him.

"I'm pretty sure I listed all the problems."

"You listed a bunch of unfortunate shit, is what you did. Nothing not fixable. It isn't like you did something unforgivable. It's not like, one of the two of you is dead."

I didn't know what to say at first.

"Damn..." And that was all I could say.

Noah sighed.

"A lot of people would kill to have the chance, to be with the one they love. Don't mess it up."

Wow! Noah never really talked about his past, and other than the weirdness between him and Quinn, he didn't really talk to girls.

Slipping in and out of their beds? That was more up his alley.

"What about you?" I asked.

"Me?" He laughed again. "I am allergic to that shit. Love? Nope. All I've seen that do, is tear people down and fuck up lives. I don't want any part of that."

My brows shot up in surprise.

"Whoa! That's positive."

"Whatever. We aren't talking about me and we aren't going to, so get that look off your face."

I raised my hands.

"Message received."

Noah cocked his head to the side and gave a tight smile.

"Anyway, all I'm saying is, why are you still sitting here talking to me?"

Staring at him a moment, I shrugged.

"Who else is going to drive your grumpy ass home?"

MERCEDES

After changing into my pajama bottoms, I tugged a long, thick cardigan on, over my tank top, as I padded downstairs in my slippers, feeling incredibly mommy-needy.

I was disappointed to find her already passed out, on the couch next to Dad, the multicolored lights from the Christmas tree, flashing over their forms.

It took everything within me, to resist the urge to wiggle between them and demand attention.

I headed into the kitchen and grabbed the box of cocoa out of the cabinet.

Once done, I took my chocolate goodness upstairs and set it on my nightstand to cool down. Then, I pulled my hair up into a messy bun, and shuffled over to the bookcase.

What I needed, was to lose myself in a good book...one with tons of sex and angst, complete with an unbelievable happily-ever-after, that made me love and hate the book at the same time.

As my gaze traveled over the spines, some straight and others warped, my brain wandered right into annoying territory, which had a name...Sam.

God, I didn't want to think about him. And I didn't want to think, about how he'd looked at me, when I'd left with Quinn, like I'd hurt his feelings or something.

Pulling out an old favorite, I headed back to my bed and plopped down.

I dropped the book on the bedspread and picked up my hot cocoa, wishing I'd had the foresight to grab some of those tiny marshmallows.

I tried getting into the book, but I found myself reading the same paragraph, two or three times and still having no idea, what I was reading.

Flopping onto my back, I placed my arms over my face and groaned. I wanted to cry, to scream, to rage, and to shove my head under a pillow.

In a weird way, it felt like a year had passed, since I'd left for Snowshoe. So much had changed, in such a short span of time.

Had it really only been last week, that I'd briefly considered seeing, if Hunter was interested in me?

Was it only a week, since my heart had been slightly bruised but completely whole?

Now, I couldn't even think about going out with anyone.

And my heart was now, utterly demolished.

What was I supposed to do from here?

Try to pretend like nothing happened?

That wasn't going to work.

Avoid Sam?

That would be so hard...almost impossible to consider.

I squeezed my eyes shut against the tears. How could I avoid him, when he was such an intricate part of my life?

What if he now thought, I was as frigid as Nathan had claimed?

Rolling over, I shoved my face in the pillow. I was going to drive myself crazy, because, I didn't have answers for any of this.

And there'd be no...

Tap.

I lifted up onto my elbows and frowned. Had I already gone crazy? Because, I'd swear, I thought I'd heard a...

Tap.

Pushing onto my knees, I twisted, scanning the room. I didn't see anything that could have made that noise.

"Okay," I whispered, sliding off the bed. I walked to the center of the room and stood completely still.

Tap.

I jumped.

Oh my God! What if my house was haunted now?

Or what if I was about to pull some Black Swan shit? What if...

Tap.

I whipped towards the window.

'Aha!'

It was coming from my bedroom window...two floors off the ground. What in the world?

And then it hit me.

That sound...oh, holy-baby-Jesus-in-a-manger...that sound was familiar. It wasn't a ghost, but insanity was still an option, because, it couldn't be what I thought it was.

Years ago, Sam used to throw rocks, before he'd climbed the massive walnut tree outside my bedroom window.

It was so cliché and ridiculous, but he did it, up until middle school.

'It couldn't be.'

My legs shook, as I took a step forward, and then two.

When I reached the window, my hands were trembling.

I parted the filmy white curtains, and a second later, a small rock smacked off the thick glass, of the bottom part of the window.

I froze, and my heart sped up. Then, I lurched forward, unlocking the tiny latch and lifting the window up.

I slid the screen up next and leaned out into the freezing December air. And my heart skipped a beat.

Sam stood below, next to the lit wire reindeer, a knit cap pulled low, and one arm raised. He let go a second before he saw me.

"Oh shit!" he said.

I jumped back, as a small pebble zoomed passed my face.

'Holy crap!'

I put my hand over my racing heart, as I gingerly approached the window again and leaned out.

Sam waved his arm at me.

"Sorry about that!" he said.

"It's okay." This was really surreal. Maybe I was dreaming. "What are you doing, Sam?"

"Talking to you."

"I can see that. Why...why didn't you call me?"

He shuffled from one foot to the other, huddled down in his jacket.

"I needed to talk to you face-to-face."

The porch light came on and I winced. A face-to-face conversation was so not possible, with him standing outside and with obviously one, if not both, of my parents awake.

"Sam..."

"Hold on," he called out. "I'm coming up."

'I'm coming up?'

Then I realized, he wasn't using the door...he was climbing the tree. He was going to kill himself!

I leaned out the window, my breath forming small white clouds in front of my face, as Sam shimmied up the tree trunk.

"Sam, are you insane?"

"No. Yes." He pulled himself up on the first thick limb. Straightening, he glanced down with a frown. "Well, this is harder than I remember."

My mouth dropped open.

"Maybe you should just go back down and use the front door, like, I don't know? A normal person would?"

"I'm already halfway there."

He got his foot in a groove and propelled himself up to the limb, closest to my window.

Wrapping his hands around it, he looked at me, his cheeks rosy from the cold and his eyes glittering in the moonlight.

"If I fall and break my neck, will you say something nice at my funeral? Like, 'Sam was usually more graceful?'"

"Oh, my God..."

He chuckled as he pulled himself up, so he was crouched against the massive trunk, holding onto the tree above him.

"Don't worry. I got this."

My gaze dropped to the snow-covered, hard ground below. I wasn't so sure about this.

"Why didn't you just knock on the door?"

He cocked his head to the side, like he hadn't thought of that.

"I didn't think you'd answer."

"I would've answered," I said.

"Too late now." He winked, and my heart tumbled. "You might want to move back."

Backing up, I held my breath, as he eased out on the limb, causing half the tree to rattle like dry bones.

Oh God, I didn't want to watch this. I wanted to close my eyes, as he crawled near the edge, stopped, and then peered down.

Then, he lifted his head, appearing to judge the distance and my heart seized up.

"Sam, don't..."

'Too late.'

Sam half-jumped, half-threw himself towards my open window.

I was a wuss, closing my eyes, as I balled my hands up near my chest and let out a little shriek.

There was a sound of flesh hitting wood and my eyes flew open. But he came through the open window, landing on his feet like a damn cat.

He stumbled though and banged into my desk, causing books and my computer to shake.

In another second, he had his hands held out to his sides, looking around slowly, before settling his gaze on me.

"I am awesome."

I could barely breathe.

"Yeah."

A knock sounded on my bedroom door, a second before it opened. My dad popped his head in, eyes wide.

"I'm just making sure he made it up here alive."

I nodded and Sam flashed a grin.

"I'm in one piece."

"That's good to see." Dad started to close the door, but stopped. "Next time, use the front door, Sam."

"Yes, sir," he replied.

Shaking his head, my dad closed the door, leaving Sam and I, alone in my bedroom.

It wouldn't be the first time. When we'd been home over fall break a few months ago, he'd been in here.

But now?

It felt completely different.

Having him in here, so close to the bed...and with me not wearing a bra or panties under my clothes...made my skin flush.

This spelled trouble.

Sam pulled off his knit hat and then paused halfway through, taking off his jacket.

"Do you mind?" he asked.

I shook my head, as I pulled the edges of my cardigan closed.

Lean muscles flexed, as he stripped off the black jacket and draped it over the chair at my desk. Then, he turned to me, and the air leaked out of my lungs.

He had never looked so...un-confident and vulnerable, as he did in that moment.

His throat worked several times, and then he sat down on my desk chair and let out a long breath.

"We need to talk," he said, resting his hands on his knees.

"I know," I whispered, because, there was no point in lying or delaying the inevitable.

I couldn't sit, so I stood.

"I'm sorry about how I left Snowshoe, without saying anything. I just needed to get out of there."

He nodded.

"I can understand that."

I thought about what Quinn had said, about Zander and what he'd done. And guilt burned like acid in my belly.

"I...I shouldn't have said some of the things I said to you, regarding Zander. That wasn't your fault. Not really, and it was low of me, to put that on you. So, I'm sorry."

Sam blinked.

"Are you apologizing?"

The sound of disbelief in his voice unnerved me. Like he didn't want my apology, that it was too late for that.

"Yes. I shouldn't have said that to you. And what you did a year ago..."

"Hold up." Sam raised his hand. "You can't be serious."

I sucked in a deep breath, but it got stuck in my throat. And my heart pounded so fast and so suddenly, I needed to sit.

So I did.

I sat on the edge of the bed, feeling like we were about to break up...except, we weren't together.

Sam toed himself forward, the wheels of the chair squeaking, over the hardwood floor.

"You have absolutely no reason to apologize, Mercy. 'I'm sorry' shouldn't even cross your lips."

"I don't?"

"No." He rubbed a hand over the scruff on his jaw. "All of this is my fault. I fucked up, Mercy. I fucked up so bad, so many times, that I shouldn't even be sitting here. You shouldn't even be talking to me."

"Oh?" I wasn't sure how to process that.

He let out a shaky breath, then straightened.

And I tensed, because, he had this look, like he was steeling himself. Like he was about to rip off a band-aid.

And maybe, that was why he was here...to tell me, that nothing should've happened between us, that we should've stayed just friends, and he was sorry for allowing it to go any further.

I didn't want to hear it, but I knew I needed to. And I know it was going to hurt...hurt like hell.

I thought of Nathan and what he had said, and I wanted to crawl under the bed, but I forced myself to sit there.

No more running. No more hiding.

Life was imperfect. This was going to be one of those moments.

Our gazes locked.

"I'm sorry for a lot of things," Sam started, holding my gaze. "I wish, that you hadn't had to go through, what you did with Zander. He hurt you. I know you say you're okay, but he put his hands on you, and it was because of something I had done. I'll never forgive myself for that."

"That wasn't your fault." The earlier guilt grew like a noxious weed. "Please don't think that. The guy was obviously unstable..."

"I know, but it's going to take me a long time, to get over that," he admitted openly. "I keep reliving the whole thing, and every time I think about you getting hurt, it kills me a little. I'm serious, I'm so sorry, Mercy. I am so sorry."

My heart hurt hearing Sam talk like that.

"Sam..."

"But that's not what I'm most sorry for," he continued, and I thought,

'Here it comes.'

I tried my best to prepare myself, but a lump was already growing in my throat.

Sam ran his hands through his hair.

"I'm most sorry for hurting you. And I know that I have. I know I've hurt you before with the other girls, I hurt you by not being up front about Sofia. I didn't mean to lie...I just wasn't thinking, because, she and I aren't like that. But I should've told you, that we did have relations before...once. And I didn't sleep with her again. And I sure as hell didn't sleep with her, when I went to her cabin, to help her with the busted windows..."

"Busted windows?" I repeated numbly.

"Zander had bashed her windows the night before. She lives on her own up there and needed help," he explained. "But I wish I hadn't helped her. I should have been there for you and I wasn't. And I can't forgive myself for that."

I closed my eyes, feeling so much, I didn't know where to start.

Too many emotions whirled inside me, to really digest all of this.

"Oh, Sam..."

"And I don't expect my apology to make a damn bit of difference. Trust me," he rushed on.

And I opened my eyes, blinking back hot tears.

"I know there is a lot for me to make up for. There've been times I've ditched you, to go to the movies with another girl...broke plans to get laid, that kind of thing. Because, that's all I was about...screwing, you know? And then, there was prom. I didn't even dance with you. And this whole time, you were right there beside me, and I'm..."

He shook his head.

"I'm fucking rambling. I probably can't fix any of that. And I won't blame you, if you tell me to get the fuck out of this house. Just know, there are a lot of things I wish I could do over, but there is one thing I'll never regret."

I stilled, my thoughts and pulse racing.

He stood, and walked over to me, kneeling down. Then, he tipped his head back, so he looked me straight in the eyes, when he said the next words.

"I will never regret being with you, Mercy. Never. And I wish I could go back and relive those hours. I wish I could go back in time, and instead of hooking up with some chick, I'd man up and tell you how I really felt for you...how I've always felt about you."

I opened my mouth and gasped, but there were no words.

I searched Sam's striking face, and he stared back, open and right there. Finally...right there in front of me.

My heart started swelling and bursting all at once. And hope burned, as bright as the North Star.

"How you've always felt?"

"Yes. I've loved you my entire life," he said, eyes locked on mine. "And I would love you for the rest of my life, if you'd let me, Mercy."

Stay safe!