Thank you kind people.

Me and my family are well and trying our hardest to keep safe. I hope you and yours are too.

Standard disclaimer.

Once the end credits began rolling, Sam straightened himself, but I was still against his shoulder, in a feigned state of sleep.

When he removed his fingers from my hair, I lamented the loss.

"Mercedes," he whispered. "Ready for bed?"

"Mmmm..."

He shifted away for a moment, before I felt my body being lifted by strong arms.

He still smelled like coconuts and white sandy beaches... my new favorite scent.

My eyes remained closed, but I nuzzled into his neck, my lips resting against his smooth skin.

He stifled a groan. But, I heard it.

His lips brushed against the top of my head, as he carried me to his bed, and a wave of euphoria pulsed through me.

He laid me down facing the wall, the same position I'd slept in last night.

I heard his labored breaths, as he stepped out of his jeans and removed his shirt. Then he slid in beside me.

He hesitated for the longest time, before finally scooting forward.

I could feel the heat from his body.

His hand came around and braced my stomach, so warm and strong and protective, that I couldn't hold in my gasp.

"Is this okay?" he whispered.

I could only nod.

My limbs felt so weak.

His breathing intensified and I felt his bulge growing against my backside. But he said nothing more and made no other moves.

I got the feeling, he was trying to hold himself back, and there was no way I was going to throw myself at him.

It was the single most sensual moment of my life.

We lay there for some tense and aroused minutes, before I finally heard his breaths soften, into sleep.

Eventually, I drifted off as well.

I slept in Sam's bed for the next three nights, in much the same way.

I'd head up to his place and we'd dine on takeout, watch a movie, or listen to music.

Then, I'd help him unpack some of his boxes and he'd direct me where to place his things.

On one of those nights, I got a bird's-eye view of his art. I knew he was an art major, but seeing his work revealed another side to him.

It was earthy and eclectic and stunning, just like him.

It was mostly charcoal drawings of city life, or scenic landscapes, that he somehow, transformed into ethereal, picturesque, and peculiar versions of themselves.

Like Starry Night meets The Scream.

Then, we'd snuggle into bed together, his chest against my back and me aware of how completely aroused he was. But I wasn't upset with him.

If I had an appendage growing on the outside of my body, he'd have known how entirely stirred up, I was as well.

It was completely nerve-racking and overwhelming, yet provocative and comforting all at once.

I had never done any such thing with a guy.

And I didn't know who was more stubborn, me or him. Neither one of us, was willing to make the next move.

For him, it may have been because, he didn't want to become one of my friends with benefits. And for me, it was because, there was some small, desperate part of me, that didn't want him to think, I was so easy, or easily led into commitment.

I asked him about the girl he was seeing, but he never answered me, so I assumed he was having the same problem...no desire to be with anyone else for the moment.

Brody drunk-dialed me and threatened to show up on my doorstep, because, he needed it so badly, he'd said.

Obviously, I did too, like I'd never needed it before in my whole damn life, but it felt weird to let Brody come over, especially if Sam accidentally ran into him.

I had no earthly idea, where either me or Sam stood, or how blurred the lines had become.

So, I decided, I needed to be the bigger person...the person who had an ounce of control and sense left...and put an end to my sleepovers with Sam.

I needed to sleep in my own damn bed.

Starting with tonight, I didn't go up to his apartment and he didn't come down to get me. But somehow, that made me feel even worse.

My chest had an ache I couldn't shake, until I fell into a restless night of sleep.

I figured he'd get the message I was sending. That I was no longer interested, in whatever little game we were playing.

In the morning, I was proud of myself, for making it through the night, without the help of a man.

I needed to get my life back.

I was strong and unattached, and I liked it that way.

Mrs. Jackson noticed a difference, the following morning, in the activity room.

"You look resigned today, with maybe, a hint of sadness underneath."

"Nope, you don't have me pegged today," I said, laying down my pair of aces. I'd promised her a quick game of rummy. "I am confident and self-assured."

"I am woman, hear me roar?" she said, snickering.

Her fingers trembled, as she balanced her stack of cards.

It was a skill that had become difficult for her, given the numbness in her hands, since the stroke.

"Trying to play the independent game with him, huh?"

She was frustrating as hell and always saw right through me and I loved her for it.

I waved to Mrs. Jackson's daughter, Sheila, as she strode through the door for a visit.

"Oh good. Now you can complain about how, Sheila and her husband work too much and need more date nights," I said.

I winked, as I exited the table.

That night, I tried to have a quickie with Brody, at his place, instead of mine.

I had so much pent-up sexual frustration, I didn't know what to do.

Brody had two roommates, and they were a pain in the ass.

Always high as kites, and sitting in front of the PlayStation.

The place was a disaster, and I refused to ever use the one bathroom, they all shared.

No way, did I want to see nasty public hairs, clinging to the wall, or yellow trails of pee on the floor.

Men had disgusting habits, that was for sure. It was one of the many reasons, I was better off without one in my life.

After Brody brought me up to his room, he immediately lifted my shirt and began pawing at me.

No erotic foreplay there. Not that I'd ever needed it before.

His hands were rough, and his kisses sloppy.

And for the first time, I asked myself, how I'd ever been with him so many times.

It suddenly felt different, and there was definitely no damn fire in my belly.

It might be the first time I'd have to fake it, but I didn't want to disappoint him.

We used each other, for just this purpose, and if he needed to get off, then I'd oblige. But damn, I needed it, too.

My vibrator had been a poor substitute, for flesh and bones. Or boner, in this case.

An hour later, I was on my way home and less satisfied than I'd been, in a good long while.

The second night I slept alone in my bed, I told myself, things were finally getting back to normal.

I ignored the tightness lodged in my throat, indicating that I was missing something...missing someone...and convinced myself, that Sam was fine with it as well, because, he never tried to contact me, either.

I was going to a party with Marley and Quinn that evening and was excited about being out with my friends again.

But, as I got dressed, I couldn't help wondering if Sam would show up.

It was the same frat house throwing the party, as a couple weeks ago, and Sam had mentioned, that one of the jocks, was a customer of his. He said, he had inked two tattoos on his biceps in the past year.

And so, I found myself dressing for Sam, as much as for me. Pathetic.

I wore my favorite skinny jeans, with a flowing top, that I left unbuttoned to the center of my chest.

I wore a white cami underneath, that had a built-in bra. It made my breasts look firm and round.

When we first arrived, I begrudgingly admitted to myself, I was disappointed that Sam wasn't there.

His friend Noah was, but I refused to make eye contact with him.

That little spell of disappointment, didn't stop me from drinking shots of tequila with my girls, though and having a good time.

The music was pumping, the bodies were wall to wall, and the girls and I, danced a few songs.

I felt myself letting loose and not thinking so hard.

We let a couple of guys dance with us, but when one started getting frisky, I turned him down.

'Definitely not because of Sam.'

I just wanted to ease back into the game slowly.

We sipped the margaritas, that Quinn mixed especially for tonight, and they felt good going down.

She leaned towards me and shouted above the music,

"A yummy guy keeps looking over here. If you don't want him, I'll take him."

I looked up and saw Sam, leaning against the wall, with a beer in his hand.

He practically knocked the wind out of me. He was so stunning.

He lifted his hand in a wave and I smiled back.

"That's him, isn't it?" Marley shouted into my ear. "Your neighbor?"

"Yep." I bit my lip, while my heart performed impossible tricks, in a jump rope tournament.

"He is smoking hot," she said, sipping her margarita through a straw.

"Yeah," I said. "Too bad, he doesn't want to get it on, with me."

"Maybe he does, but he's waiting," she said, looking over my shoulder and checking him out again.

I rolled my eyes.

She was closer to the truth than she knew. Sam had slept in the same bed with me and never once touched me...in that way.

"Waiting for what?" I asked, playing dumb.

"For you to want him in the same way, ass-head."

I hadn't told her all the details of our nights, just that, we'd hung out some more. And that, it was totally innocent.

"Think about it," she said, all smug.

Oh, I was thinking about it. Every single day. And I knew what Marley was getting at.

I did want him. I wanted to get him out of my damn system already.

Quinn headed towards Sam, like she was on a mission, and I felt my stomach bunch up.

She kept her blonde hair short these days, and it suited her.

Her face was unbelievably striking...full lips and dramatic green eyes.

Guys fell all over themselves, to talk to her.

I watched as she used her, 'you-are-so-getting-some-tonight' smile on Sam. But it didn't work.

He was polite and said hello, but kept his eyes trained on me the entire time.

Quinn looked back, shrugged, and mouthed, "All yours," before she was pulled onto some huge linebacker's lap.

Marley tugged at my hand.

"C'mon, I can't find Jake, and I need to dance to this one."

"Okay," I said, standing up and taking one last glance at Sam.

He had his back turned and was talking to Noah, who said something and they high-fived and knocked back their beers.

Me and Marley, pushed our way to the middle of the writhing bodies and I started swaying my hips in time to the music.

I raised my arms in the air and got lost in the slow and sexy song.

A minute later, I felt someone's warm breath stroke my neck and a strong hand brace my stomach.

I knew it was him without turning around. Those same long fingers, had been splayed against my body, all week long.

I closed my eyes and savored his skin touching mine.

"I like when you wear your hair down," he spoke into my ear. And I shivered.

He twined his fingers through the ends of my curls and it sent another shiver, ricocheting through my body.

"You haven't come up," he breathed against my ear.

"I figured it was time to be a big girl and sleep in my own bed," I said.

"Understood."

He held on to my waist and swayed along with me.

His fingers trailed beneath the hem of my shirt and a couple of inches upward. I fought to keep my breaths under control.

"I know this is going to sound crazy," he whispered. "But I kind of missed you."

He pulled me flush against him and I sucked in a breath.

I felt the hard wall of his chest, the strong and steady thud of his heart, at my back.

I laced my fingers around his neck and leaned into him.

His fingers blazed a trail along my sides and stopped just above my navel.

I rocked my hips back and forth, in time with the music and he let out a slow groan.

"Jesus, Mercedes," he said. Suddenly, he pushed away from me. "I need some air."

He stormed off the dance floor, leaving me speechless and way too aroused. Marley raised an eyebrow at me.

Why the hell was he resisting so badly?

"That boy's got it bad for you," she said, and then, "So what the hell just happened?"

"I'm not sure," I said, my mood having shifted to ugly. "You okay if I just take off?"

"It's so unlike you, to get bent out of shape over a guy," she said. "I think you're feeling more than you're letting on."

I just shrugged and stomped off.

That was the problem with friends, who have known you forever. Too perceptive...especially, Miss Psychology Major.

When I got home, I only stopped long enough, to pull off my jeans and top, before I fell into bed, tipsy and more than a little frustrated.

I had enough drinks in me to drift off to sleep. And I did.

A sharp knock on my door, woke me out of my restless sleep.

My heart jammed in my throat.

Body taut as a rope, my eyes immediately went to my bedroom window, hoping it wasn't another neighbor, alerting me of a potential break-in.

I had managed to get to sleep the last couple of nights, without completely stressing over it, especially after taking an extra kickboxing class that morning.

I did however, move the biggest knife from my kitchen drawer, and put it beneath my mattress.

And now, my fingers were reaching for it.

My blinds remained dark, however, there was a little pinnacle of light, from the streetlamp on the corner.

I was safe.

So who the hell was knocking?

I heard his voice before I padded my way to the door.

"Mercedes?" I opened the door and Sam stood there, a bit unsteady on his feet. I folded my arms.

"Are you drunk?"

"Maybe a little," he said, his hand wandering to the back of his neck. "But, I'm more nervous than anything." I had the power to make this beautiful man nervous?

"What are you so nervous about?" I asked, hands on hips.

"That you're pissed at me." He leaned forward. "That you won't let me in...so we can talk."

"I'm not mad. Frustrated, maybe."

I opened the door wider, to allow him to pass.

I wasn't sure what I was doing, but I knew I wanted to see him, talk to him, spend time with him.

"Were you hoping to test the coziness of my bed tonight?" I asked. He stretched his gaze across my body, and a shiver bolted through me.

"More than anything."

"Okay. Fine. Let's go," I started, and turned away. "Because I'm exhausted, and I need to go back to sleep."

I marched to my room, and felt him follow closely behind.

Seconds later, I slid back into the comfort of my sheets, while he inspected the photography on my walls and the trinket boxes on my dresser, like he was memorizing everything.

Stay safe, stay blessed.