Disclaimer: This also applies to chapter one. "Fallible" is mine. The Twilight Saga is not, and there is no copyright infringement intended. I'm only borrowing these characters, not adopting them. I also take no credit for any other media or places you recognize.
08 – BEHIND CLOSED DOORS - 08
My eyes pop open as if I'm startled awake from a bad dream. Though, if I had a bad dream, I don't remember it. The last thing I remember is warm.
Sam's warm body presses into mine, touching me, holding me up against the bedroom window. My knees are about to give way, but he's so tight against me that if they do buckle, I won't be going anywhere. He's all muscle – tight and lithe and deliciously hard everywhere we touch. His hands are on either side of my head, and his lips are on mine. Oh, God, his lips…
The memory of it is enough to make me gasp. Automatically, my right hand comes up and touches my own lips as if the heat of Sam's lips is still somehow there. The only heat there is from my own blush.
I cannot believe that I kissed Sam Uley. No. That I let Sam Uley kiss me. Because there is no way I would ever make the first move on Sam Uley.
I shake my head, knowing I am wrong. I need to stop. I am just as guilty as Sam. Kissing is a two-way street and I was most definitely an active participant.
Involuntarily, my eyes drift towards the window. I am grateful that I remembered to close it last night. Being sick the first time was bad enough, and I have a feeling I will need my voice for the next few days.
Leah's alarm clock informs me that it isn't even eight, yet I am wide awake with my thoughts. With a jolt, I remember the look on Sam's face right before he left, and guilt gnaws at me. I can't let this be. I have to do something. I sit up determinedly.
I need to see Sam. I need to straighten this out. What happened last night should not have happened, and I need to make him see that and to let him know that it can't happen again. I also need to make sure I can salvage our friendship because I do value it, even though my actions have been saying otherwise lately.
Quick as a flash, I get dressed, glad that I showered last night. I try to be stealthy as I open Leah's door, but naturally Seth is just leaving the bathroom. He gives me a sleepy wave and heads back to his room, and I can only assume that he's assuming I'm going to work. I sneak downstairs, knowing that if Aunt Sue were to catch me, she would ask questions. Uncle Harry might not, but Aunt Sue definitely would. And I wouldn't have any decent answers.
I bundle up in my customary hoodie and grab an umbrella before I head out into the damp morning. Thankfully, it's not raining, but I know not to count my chickens early.
I trudge to Sam's house. At first I start off quickly, but I get slower and slower as I realize that I don't quite know what to say, or how to say it. I need him to get the message, but I need to first figure out what the message is.
The kiss was unacceptable, that much is certain. It was... also incredible, amazing, indescribable, and beautiful. But there is a reason it's forbidden and the reason is called Leah.
And if I'm one-hundred percent honest with myself, Leah is the only real reason. Aunt Sue wouldn't accept it either, I'm sure, but that doesn't bother me as much. It's not like I've never dated boys my own mother didn't approve of. Of course I have, and I cared that she didn't approve, but I disagreed with her reasoning. I saw something in those boys that she didn't see, and it was enough for me to override her judgmental thoughts.
Uncle Harry wouldn't mind. Seth pretty much gave his blessing, though it came with an understandable warning. Aunt Sue would be persuaded in time…
I shook my head. No! What am I thinking? I'm not here to discuss reasons why I should date Sam. I'm here to list all the reasons why we're wrong together.
Determinedly, I ring the doorbell, and I wait.
And wait.
And I wait.
And he doesn't answer. I tug on a strand of my hair, nervously. It's possible that it's too early. I slip my hand into my pocket, surprised when I come into contact with something smooth and metal. My new cell phone. Of course. Why didn't I think to call first? Why don't I ever think - ?
The door opens. And there he stands, naked except for a tight pair of boxer shorts. My eyes widen, and I force them up to his face only to have them widen some more.
He looks like he hasn't slept in a year. His face is pale – as pale as it is possible for skin like his to get. The dark spots under his eyes tell no lies, either, and his forehead seems… pinched, somehow.
"Good morning," I say, barely able to make sound come out of my mouth.
"Morning," he says, hoarsely. I try to read his expression, but he's carefully guarded. He's tired, but his defenses are miles high. Again, I feel guilty.
He steps back, and gestures for me to come inside. I hesitate. He notices, and his entire demeanor shuts down even more if possible. I feel my heart sink. I'm being stupid.
Sorry, I want to say, but I don't want to acknowledge my idiocy out loud. Instead, I walk past him, as if I didn't just decline his unspoken invitation. He looks surprised, but steps back to let me in, nonetheless.
I take a few steps into his familiar-by-now house and turn to face him just as he's finished closing the door and turns to face me.
I have no idea how to start this conversation, and I'm not even sure that I want to, but I feel like I should. I open my mouth, but he beats me to it.
"I'm not sorry," he bursts, words spewing from his mouth like lava from a volcano. "If you want me to be sorry, then I will be for-for holding you down and not letting you move and taking away your choice. And I'll be sorry for offending you if I did that and for making you mad, but I won't be sorry for kissing you."
My body goes hot and cold when he says holding you down and kissing and that makes it somewhat difficult to focus on what he's really saying. But I get the gist.
"I'm not offended," I manage to say. "I l-liked it." Wrong. That's not what I was supposed to say.
He picks his eyes up off the ground and looks at me in surprise and apprehension. "Really?" he asks, and I know I'm not imagining the hopeful look on his face.
I close my eyes against it, my only defense. "We shouldn't have," I say, instead of answering.
"Emily," he whispers. A tingle shoots through me. I can feel him moving closer, but I shake my head and refuse to open my eyes.
"We're not supposed to be… kissing," I have to force myself to say the word kissing. I'm embarrassed by it, somehow. It's like when I was younger and the kids I played with at school would whisper 'sex' and then burst into giggles. It's a word that makes you feel warm and a little bit naughty inside without quite knowing why.
Except now I knew why.
"Because we're just friends? Or because you're into Jared?" he asks, and my eyes pop open as my mouth drops in disbelief.
"I am not into - !" I start to exclaim, but stop suddenly when I see that he's smiling that tiny smile of his. He's teasing me.
"Stop it," I say, flustered now.
He smiles again, but it fades quickly. "Let me take you on a date," he says, out of nowhere.
I shake my head. "No." I get to the point. "Leah won't be gone forever."
It's his turn to close his eyes. "Emily…" he groans my name this time. It sense inappropriate shivers throughout my body. I fight the sensation.
"I can't, Sam," I insist.
He opens his eyes. "Then… let me kiss you again." His voice is low and intense, everything focused on me again. My traitorous heart starts racing.
"I-I can't," I stammer.
He steps closer. "No one has to know," he says, quietly.
I glare at him, but it's void of any viciousness, and he knows it. "That's what people say when they know they're doing something wrong."
He tilts my chin up with his right hand, rests his left where my shoulder meets my neck. I know I should stop him but I don't.
"This is not wrong," he says, eyes intent on mine. I can't breathe.
He nibbles at my lips, similar to last night, but different in the way that there's already some familiarity, as if we've done this more than one other time. His tongue seeks entrance and I grant it, but that's all I grant. He fights for dominance and is surprised when I fight back, my own tongue meeting his again and again.
Last night, he took my breath away. Today, I am ten times the active participant, and I hate myself for it.
My knees go weak and he must sense it somehow because his other hand leaves my neck and goes around to my back, holding me up and in place. My body burns everywhere that it's pressed against his, yet he pulls me closer still as if he's trying to pull me inside of him. He's strong and it hurts, but he doesn't realize and I don't care. I would never tell, but I like it.
He bites my bottom lip, and then plants smaller kisses on my lips, my cheeks… his lips trail down to my neck, and I break out in goose-bumps. I feel him inhale as his nose buries itself into my neck. His tongue darts out, tasting my skin, and I just about spontaneously combust when he whispers in my ear.
"Emily, please," he whispers. "Let us have the summer to be together. That's all I ask."
My stomach drops as reality comes hurtling back. I start to pull away, but he doesn't let me. His lips meet mine again, and again, and again, and in between each kiss, he says, "Please," against them.
"It's not right," I finally get the chance to say, but I can hardly get the words out. I feel as if I'm about to faint from pleasure. My voice is shaky, and my reprimanding tone is anything but.
"No, it's not," he says, and at that, my eyes fly open. I stare at him as disappointment laces through me. He's… agreeing with me?
He continues, solemnly. "But I feel like asking you for forever at this point would be too much. I'm trying to compromise."
I can't help but laugh at that, albeit shakily, and with a relief I wish I didn't feel. As bad as it is, I want him to want me.
He gently kisses the corner of my mouth before finally letting me go. I let out a sigh.
My phone rings, startling us both, and causing me to jump away from him. He notices and raises his eyebrows. Embarrassed, I shrug. It's something I have to get used to.
I check the caller ID. Emeric.
Surprised, I register that it's only a little past eight in the morning and I'm glad that I didn't actually choose to sleep in today. Otherwise, that would have been a rather unpleasant wake-up call. I press silent, quickly figure out how to put the phone on vibrate, and then look up to see Sam watching me curiously.
"Who already has your number?" he asks, in a tone too casual to be natural.
"Not Jared," I shoot at him, unable to resist. His eyes widen, then he actually laughs and I turn to mush. I force myself to look away from him before I give into temptation and jump back into his arms.
I change the subject, somewhat awkwardly. "So… if you have to work, I'll go ahead and get going."
His smile fades. "Yeah," he says, reluctantly.
Even more reluctantly, I head over to the door and start to open it. I shouldn't be surprised when Sam puts his hand over mine to stop me, but I am, just a bit. He turns me around gently.
I wait for him to speak, but he doesn't. He simply gazes down at me. For a moment that feels like it should be uncomfortable, it really, really isn't. After a few seconds, he suddenly pulls me close to him and I feel his lips brush lightly against my forehead.
"See you later," he says, and it isn't a question, but I nod anyway, unable to form words.
I feel him watching me as I walk down the street away from the house, but I force myself not to look back. I won't be that pathetic. What we're doing is already bad enough.
I jump at the sudden feel of my phone vibrating in my pocket. I pick it up. Emeric again.
"Hello?" I say, a little warily.
"Emily!" His cheery voice comes through loud and clear. "Somehow I knew you were a morning person!"
In spite of everything, it makes me feel good that he sounds so happy to hear from me. Though, I wish there was some way to switch these roles around. Sam could be the one on the phone, and Emeric could be Leah's ex. Then, everyone would be happy… except Leah, still, because of the whole 'ex' part.
"I was actually planning to sleep in," I say, dryly. "But I had something to do this morning. You just got lucky."
"Nah, it's fate," he says, melodramatically.
I can't help, but laugh. "How are you, Emeric?"
"Missing you dreadfully."
"Since yesterday?" I ask, skeptically.
"You're addictive," he says, without missing a beat.
"Hm, I'm sure there's something at the pharmacy for that," I say, innocently.
He laughs. "Cold woman, you wound me."
I grin. "You'll be fine."
"No, I won't actually. You see, the only cure is to see you again. When are you coming back to Port Angeles?" he asks.
"That doesn't sound like a cure. That sounds like I'm supporting your habit," I say, stalling.
"Em-i-ly," he whines, and for a second, it's so similar to the way Sam said it that I feel my heart skip a beat.
Sam.
"I don't know," I stammer. "It was a getaway, spur of the moment, you know? A vacation from vacation. I don't live around here. I'm from Seattle."
He's quiet for a moment. Then, "Doesn't sound like a great vacation if you had to get away from it."
I blush, thinking of Sam again, and his kisses. "It's… starting to look up, actually." No. Bad Emily. Stop it.
"Oh, no," he says, sounding forlorn. "I know that tone of voice. You're into someone."
I hesitate. It's not that I'm still kidding myself about being into Sam, because I know I am; it's that I'm not sure how much I want to tell him about the situation. Yeah, Emeric, I'm not this great, nice person you think I am – I'm actually seeing my cousin's ex-boyfriend behind her back after I swore to her that I wouldn't.
I wince.
"It's… an impossible situation," I finally say.
Emeric sighs. "Sorry to hear that. If I were a better person, I would stay on the phone and listen to you talk about this guy – or girl, I don't judge – all morning, but… I'm the jealous type." He laughs.
I smile. "I understand. Don't worry. I don't want to talk about it, anyways."
"Good – "
" – good that you seemed to get the space you needed, but have you thought about what you want to do after this summer? Your mother called and she wanted to talk about options for you, but I thought you might have some ideas of your own. It is your future, after all."
It is later that evening and we're all sitting down to dinner. Aunt Sue turns her contemplative eyes on me and I'm caught off guard. To be honest, I should have been expecting something like this. I know she and my mom discuss me frequently on the phone, and I know my parents are still disappointed over me not applying anywhere.
"Um, I'm not sure," I say, hesitantly, my face coloring. To be honest, I haven't thought about anything lately but Sam.
Sam! Right! His idea.
"Maybe I could take some business classes?" I interrupt Aunt Sue right as she's about to speak again.
"Oh?" she says, intrigued, and Uncle Harry looks in my direction as well.
"Yes, I was thinking I could… maybe stick around," I say, unsure where all of this is coming from. I certainly have not made any decisions about sticking around. "Peninsula College is in Port Angeles, and they have a pretty nice business program."
Uncle Harry nods. "Then, you might be able to work full time in the store. Earn a little more spending money. Help you with your books and all."
"Where will you stay?" Seth speaks up, a strange tone to his voice that I wonder if anyone else picks up on. His gaze is locked on me, unwaveringly.
"Here, of course," Aunt Sue replies, matter-of-factly. "Where else would she stay?"
Seth answers, but doesn't turn to face her. "No. I don't think Leah would like that."
My blush intensifies. I know exactly what he's referring to.
Aunt Sue rolls her eyes. "Leah doesn't own this house, Seth. Don't be silly."
But he's right.
"As much as I love staying here, Seth has a point," I interject. "It will be awfully cramped with Leah being back and I don't want to be a burden or an extra mouth to feed. I appreciate that you take me in during the summer, but I can't ask you to do it for the whole school year, too. That's too much. It… might make more sense if I were to stay on campus."
Aunt Sue shakes her head. "I don't think Peninsula has dormitories. Do they, Harry?"
Uncle Harry shrugs. "Off-campus apartments, I'm guessing. The school's a decent size, but it's not that large."
My heart sinks and I exchange a look with Seth. With everything going on with Sam, it would be a really stupid idea to stay here with Leah, especially if she plans to go to the same college, now that she and Sam aren't getting married. We would be forced to go back and forth to school together and everything, and it would be terrible.
"That sounds unnecessarily expensive," Aunt Sue says.
"Her parents would be more than happy to help out once they learn she's thinking about school," Uncle Harry says, waving a hand in Aunt Sue's direction. "Hell, if they can spring for vacations every year, they can afford to pay for a small apartment."
He smiles at me and I smile back.
"Talk to them, yeah? I'm all for you to live down here permanently, and I know I'm not the only one, so we'll work something out. Maybe you could even find someplace… a little closer than the school," he continues.
Aunt Sue gives Uncle Harry a confused look. Seth is still watching me apprehensively. My heart starts pounding as I consider what Uncle Harry is saying.
By 'a little closer to than the school' he can't possibly be suggesting I should… move in with Sam? No. No way. I may not be his daughter, so he probably doesn't have the same protective instincts about me that he has about Leah, but he's still my older male relative who should not approve of me moving in with a guy I barely know.
Though, Sam does have that extra room… so it's not like we'd be moving in together, it's more like we'd be roommates. Platonic roommates who have separate rooms.
Platonic roommates who sometimes kiss.
Not-so-platonic roommates who will be living down the hall from each other with nothing separating us but doors that may or may not be locked at night.
Yeah, that will be fun to explain to Leah. And I have to think about Leah, because everything comes back to her.
"Emily?" Aunt Sue interrupts my musings.
"I'll talk to my parents," I say quickly, and she nods –
- nods immediately, and my spirits lift. Though, to say I didn't know he was going to say yes would be a lie.
"We don't have to invite Jared, do we?" he asks, playfully, and I roll my eyes.
"Will you stop?" I say, my cheeks turning red although he teases me about this quite often. It always has the same effect.
Sam smiles his small smile. "So when do you want to go?"
The following weekend, I am once again headed to Port Angeles, except this time, I'm on the bus and I'm with Sam. That automatically makes this trip marginally better than the first. Not the bus part, but the part where I'm with Sam. I feel a little guilty about thinking that considering how much fun I had with Emeric, but honestly, there's no contest.
I purposely don't call Emeric to let him know that I'm headed back to Port Angeles because I know he'll want to meet up and that would just be awkward. Not to mention, Sam doesn't know about him. Not that it's a secret or anything. It's just no sense in telling him when my instincts tell me he will be upset.
"So, you didn't want to go to college?" I ask curiously, turning from the window to find him watching me. He practically forced me into the window seat, muttering about his legs being too long.
He shrugs. "It wasn't really a matter of want after my mom passed," he says, quietly.
Something in me grows cold, and instinctively I reach for his hand. As always, I'm initially surprised by his body temperature, but I don't comment on it. He looks down at our joined hands and intertwines our fingers.
"She had money saved up for me since I was small to go, but when she got sick, we needed it for her hospital bills and that was more important. I guess I could save up and go now if I wanted, but I'm too busy. What with helping out at the store, my construction job, and working for the council, I'm booked."
"What do you do for the council?" I ask, interested.
All of a sudden, the light behind his eyes goes out, and I can practically see the shutter close behind them. He stiffens up and I draw back, confused.
"Protect the tribe… the rez…" he says, but oddly, it sounds like he's searching for words. "I… I make decisions that no one else can make and I work with the local police force… sometimes."
"Oh, I see," I say, but I don't really see anything and all, and his reticence only spikes my curiosity and makes me want to know more. It's clear he doesn't want to talk about it, though, so I change subjects.
"So, with this whole… Peninsula College idea… I'm going to need a place to stay." Oh no, I did not just say that. The second the words leave my mouth, I realize how they sound and I regret them. What is wrong with me? It's a question I have to ask myself a lot lately.
He raises his eyebrows. "Oh, really?" he says, suggestively, and heat immediately shoots down to my core. My heartbeat accelerates.
"I-I'm thinking about student apartments off campus," I stammer, quickly.
"Sounds pricey," he says. "I know a place where you could stay for free."
"Do you?" I say, faintly, as his thumb has now begun to draw tiny circles over the palm of my hand. I feel my knees getting weak again. It's a good thing I'm sitting down.
"Yeah," he continues. "It's a house with two bedrooms, two bathrooms – if you stayed there, the room you'd have comes with its own bathroom – a kitchen, a pretty decent horror movie selection. Not to mention a nice entertainment system that you'd get free reign over. Since you don't have to pay rent, you could even save for a car to make your commute back and forth to school that much easier. And did I mention your roommate?"
I can't help but grin throughout his speech. "No, but I'm sure with a place like that, there's got to be a catch," I tease.
He shakes his head, seriously. "You'd think so, wouldn't you? But your roommate is perfect. He's quiet, and he doesn't have rowdy friends who come and go at all hours of the night. He's willing to hang out with you whenever you want, help you with your homework, but he'll back off when you need your space."
"Sounds like heaven," I say, softly. And I mean it. But…
He leans over and kisses me lightly on the forehead. "Move in with me?"
I sigh, straighten up, and pull my hand from under his slowly. "Sam, you know – "
"Now arriving at Forks Transit Center. Thank you for choosing Clallam Transit. We hope you've enjoyed the ride, and that we'll see you again soon!"
After we get off that bus, we have to take another, and it's about an hour before we get to the college, but we don't talk much for the second bus ride. It's not the comfortable silence I'm used to with Sam, and I worry for most of the trip that I've upset the entire mood.
But, really, move in with Sam? Our… thing – I don't want to call it a fling – is supposed to be over at the end of the summer when Leah comes back. I can't imagine either one of us just stopping cold turkey if I move in with him. We would have no reason to. In the privacy of our home, no one would know what was going on.
In the privacy of our home… Our home.
I hate that those words sound so right, even in my head.
We step off the bus and immediately, I get the same sensation that I get whenever I come back to La Push after a school year – that I belong and I'm home. I look up at Sam to find him looking down at me. He smiles as if he can tell what I'm thinking, reaches for my hand again, and squeezes it –
" – it this semester, and next semester you can start taking the classes you really want to. We like our students to have well-rounded degrees so that means you'll have to start out same as everyone else with your basic math and sciences and histories… unless you graduated with an advanced diploma, or you're transferring from another school?" The counselor is talking entirely too fast, which makes me wonder how many other walk-in appointments she has today, but I'm able to keep up with her. Strangely, she reminds me of my mom.
"I just graduated last month," I say. "Regular diploma."
My cheeks burn when I say this, and I don't look at Sam. Even though, it's perfectly normal, I realize that I don't want him to see me as normal. Part of me suddenly wants to impress him for some reason, although I know I'm being ridiculous. I graduated, and I should be proud for that alone.
"Yeah, so you'll have to start out the same as everyone else with getting your general studies out of the way. It also helps if you plan to transfer to another school after a semester or two here. But I take it you are looking to earn a degree, right? I ask because some adults come back to college and take a class or two just to advance in their careers, and there's nothing wrong with that, but you're young. You say you just graduated high school? I say take the long road. Do all four years here and now. It's worth it in the end, and you won't have to come back. No shortcuts and you'll have your degree if you get everything done the first time. It saves money in the long haul, trust me," she says, stopping only when she runs out of breath.
Sam nods in my peripheral vision. "She's all about saving money," he says, seriously.
I have both the urge to hit him and to giggle. I nudge him with my elbow instead.
"Here, I've printed out a degree guide for you. The last page is a proposed schedule of classes where you can go ahead and fill in the blanks with what you decide to take. It'll help to keep you organized. I also have a course selection catalogue for you, and everything in there is detailed down to which professors will be teaching which sections. Tells you your classroom number, time of classes, days, everything you need to know. Any questions for me?"
"Just one," I say. "When do classes start?"
"Twenty of September, but you can also find that information in your catalogue."
"Oh, okay, thank you," I say, smiling.
We leave the office still hand-in-hand, neither of us breaking the silence. I'm contemplative, and more than a little excited. This could actually work out. A few days ago, I didn't have a plan at all, and I wasn't exactly worried about it – I just hadn't thought about it – but now I have a plan. And the bonus is I get to stay in La Push. Despite all of the confusion and worry I'm feeling about my current relationship situation, I still love La Push. That will never change. So this is a huge bonus.
Sam looks down at me and I'm grinning ear-to-ear. He smiles, too.
"So what now?" he asks.
"I call my mom and dad," I say.
He laughs. "No. I mean… right now. You want to walk around campus? Grab lunch somewhere?"
"Oh," I feel my face heat up again.
But before I can answer, his eyes widen and I'm suddenly assaulted from the back. Two wiry arms with perfectly manicured nails on the end squeeze me from behind.
"Leah!" a voice squeals in my ear. "It's you!"
I'm suddenly tugged a bit violently out of the girl's embrace and I spin around just in time to see her shocked face. I look up at Sam. His eyes are narrowed.
"You're… not Leah," the girl says, still stunned. She looks from me to Sam and back to me in confusion.
"No, she's not," Sam practically growls, and I'm suddenly transported back to my first day back in Harry's store, when he thought I was a thief.
"But, I thought – " the girl starts to say.
"Leah and I broke up," Sam interrupts, coldly.
"Sam," I say, softly, more than a little surprised at his rudeness. He looks down at me, but doesn't appear to actually see me.
"Do I know you?" the girl says, peering more closely at me.
I open my mouth to speak – to say what, I don't know, because I'm certainly not dumb enough to introduce myself as Leah's cousin, but once again, Sam interjects.
"Goodbye," he says pointedly. Then, he almost literally drags me away.
I'm too stunned to say a word. Instead of catching the bus away from the campus, we catch a taxi to a decent shopping location after he mutters something about food. He seems to have caught on to my mood because he doesn't try to talk to me directly until the bus puts us off in front of an Ihop.
"Emily – " he starts to say, but I interrupt him.
"Why did you treat her like that? Why were you so rude?" the words burst out of me like water.
His eyes widen at my anger. Then , he says stiffly, "I was protecting you."
"I don't see how you being rude to her is protecting me." I cross my arms under my chest.
"She's Leah's friend. You don't want Leah to know." He speaks slowly, as if he's talking to a two-year-old and I feel my anger intensify.
"Well, now Leah is going to know something. You've made it look like something worse than what it was… like we have something to hide." I can feel the panic rising inside of me, along with regret.
Why did I choose to bring him with me? Out in the open? I should've known that at least one percent of Leah's graduating class would be attending school here in the Fall. Leah herself is probably going to be attending school here in the Fall. Of course I would run into someone who knows her.
"We do," Sam responds, tersely. "We do have something to hide."
I stare at him. He stares back at me, his entire being so obviously on edge, and I feel myself deflate. I don't want to fight with him.
"But she didn't know that," I say, though the fire in my argument is gone. "She's a lot more likely to go running to Leah now than she would have been if we were nicer and less suspicious."
Sam shrugs, but his eyes belie his physicality. "If she does, we'll deal with it," he says simply.
"This isn't just something we can put in a box and forget about until something triggers the spring," I insist.
For some reason, he smiles at that. I glare at him.
"This isn't a joke, Sam!"
He sighs. "What do you suggest we do, then? Not talk, not touch, not kiss unless we're behind closed doors? Leah is going to find out eventually. Everyone is."
I blink. "Are you just not even concerned about this?"
"Of course I'm concerned, but it's inevitable. Everyone is going to find out – "
"You almost act like you want them to."
"Why would I want that?" He shakes his head, and I can't answer. His expression turns fierce.
"I still care about her, Emily. How could I not? She's my ex-fiancée. I was going to marry her, but dammit, this is bigger than fucking Leah."
I flinch at his crude words, but I don't say anything. He continues.
"You think that if you stay here, we're going to just stop seeing each other at the end of the summer? We both know that's a lie. I don't want to stop seeing you. Ever. I'm in too deep now."
It was just a few kisses, I want to say, but I can't make my mouth form the words I know deep down to be lies.
"I'm here for as long as you want me. And you do want me."
I feel my eyes welling up with tears. That's just the thing. I can't deny that I want him, but I don't want to want him. So, I say the one thing that I know will bring him to his knees. And I feel the wrongness of the words before I even open my mouth.
"I can… I can go back to Seattle."
My stomach clenches, and I can practically feel his entire body freeze up. It takes what seems like a year before I'm able to look him in the eye, and when I'm finally brave enough, I gasp out loud. It looks like someone has just punched him in the gut, mercilessly. His face is ashen as if he's just been confronted with his worst nightmare.
At the thought of me leaving?
"S-Sam…" I start to say, but the look on his face silences me more effectively than his words ever could.
He takes a few small steps backwards, shaking his head. Then, he turns and sprints. Literally, he runs away and at a pace so fast, it's almost unnatural.
I stare after him in shock for a moment before I can force myself to go after him. But it's useless. He was moving so quickly that I lost my chance of going after him in that one moment of shocked stillness. It doesn't help that this particular street seems to be so crowded.
At a loss, I go inside the Denny's and hope that once he's calmed down, he'll come back and find me. I wait for twenty minutes. Two different waitresses ask me if I want to order. I say no to the first and a reluctant yes to the second.
Half an hour later, still no Sam.
I pull out my cell phone, though there's no point because Sam doesn't have one. I go through my contacts list, and stop at Emeric's name. A strange, fluttery feeling settles itself in my stomach.
Against my better judgment, I text him anyway.
Hi
Less than ten seconds later, he texts back.
Emily! Hey!
Part of me has an insane urge to throw everything out of the window and to tell Emeric I'm in Port Angeles. He would come meet me here, take me on an amazing date, and help me forget all about my whirlwind life that has somehow come to revolve around Sam. It would be simple and easy and best of all, Leah-approved.
My phone vibrates again with another incoming text message.
I have unlimited texting btw so feel free to fill up my phone ;)
I smile, though my eyes once again start to well up with tears. No. It's not right. I would just be using him, and eventually, he would catch on. Sam would be able to see right through me, anyhow.
Just wanted to say hi =) I respond, then put my phone away.
I get everything I haven't eaten in a to-go box, and leave Denny's quickly. I hail a taxi, because there's still no sign of Sam, and I make my way back to La Push alone.
Sam is still nowhere to be seen, though I've been back at the Clearwater's for hours now. Wandering morosely around the house attracted unwarranted attention from Aunt Sue, so I retreated to Leah's room to mope in isolation.
I keep the window open on purpose, even though it's nowhere near as late as it is when Sam usually decides to visit.
I take out my cell phone again. His house number has been programmed into it, but I don't think it's a good idea to call. Visiting would be better and it's too late for that sort of thing, so I'll have to wait until tomorrow.
Instead, I dial someone else I've been meaning to call and he answers on the second ring.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Dad," I say in a tiny voice.
"Emily!" he says, his voice full of warmth. "I miss you. How you been?"
"Not so good," I reply, the tears thick in my voice now.
"Uh oh, what's going on? Tell me it isn't boys." He teases, but his underlying concern is real.
"Okay, I won't tell you," I say, sniffling.
"Do I need to beat someone up?" For some reason, him saying this reminds me so much of Sam stating earlier that he needed to protect me that the tears start to fall harder.
"I l-like someone," I blurt. "I like him and he likes me but we can't. And the boy that I should like likes me, too, but I don't like him. But I should. If I did, my life would be so much easier."
"Oh, God, there's more than one," he groans.
"Dad."
He sighs. "Sorry, sorry."
"What should I do?" I say, in a small voice.
"Relationships aren't about who we should be with. It's about who is right for us. If you like him and he likes you – "
"If we get together, someone is going to get hurt. Maybe more than one person." Aunt Sue comes to mind. "I don't want to hurt anyone."
"Well, the alternative to that sounds like hurting yourself. Looks like no matter what you do, someone is going to get hurt. I suggest you start thinking of the long-term solution. Not that I'm saying to get married or anything like your brother – who by the way, misses you and wants you to call him – but these people who will get hurt will eventually get over it. Time heals all wounds, Emily. I want you to remember that. And not to sacrifice your happiness for someone else's satisfaction. I taught you better than that."
"But, Dad – "I whisper.
"That is, of course, only if you think the first boy is worth it."
I open my mouth to answer, but a clatter in the direction of my window causes me to whip my head around fast. Sam is climbing in and the door is wide open.
My eyes widen. I cross the room in breakneck speed to shut the door and lock it.
"Emily?" my dad says, his voice suddenly sounding so far away.
Sam shuts the window behind him. I note that he's carrying a bouquet of slightly damaged-looking roses – a mixture of red and white. Not to mention, he's shirtless again. My knees go weak, my heart starts to pound, and I sit down heavily on the bed.
His eyes are luminous with worry, fear, anxiousness. I can feel it emanating from him powerfully. He hesitates near the window, as if afraid to come any closer.
"Emily, are you there?" my dad asks, worriedly.
"I'm here," I say, breathlessly.
"Did you hear what I - ?"
"He's worth it, Dad," I say, my eyes locking with Sam's. "He's definitely worth it."
Without a word, he crosses the room and pulls me up and into his arms, dropping the flowers on the way. Likewise, I drop the phone and it closes, automatically hanging up. My dad is already forgotten.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Sam mumbles over and over in my ear. His breath in such a sensitive area causes shivers that are immediately quelled by his overwhelming body heat.
"I didn't mean to leave you, I'll never leave you, I'm so sorry," he keeps saying.
I shake my head. "I'm sorry," I interrupt, choking on my own words. "I'm not going back to Seattle. I don't want… I can't – "
"I know," he says, softly. He pulls back and for a second, we both just gaze into each other's eyes.
"I'm scared," I whisper, leftover tears breaking free. "I'm scared everyone's going to hate me."
He shakes his head. "That's not going to happen." He hugs me tighter, but I'm too wound up to relax.
Instead, I do something insane – because it seems I haven't gotten my crazy quota filled for the day. I lean back, lick my lips quickly, and then I plant a super-fast kiss on his.
He blinks, but doesn't say anything. My heart is racing, but he doesn't seem to react at all. I frown, wondering if I did something wrong.
Slowly, I lean in again. He closes his eyes this time. I close mine too, inching forward until my lips touch his. My entire body heats up at the contact, and his grip tightens on me. I can't kiss him like he's been kissing me, because even if I mimicked until my heart was content, I wouldn't be able to replicate something so perfect.
Instead, I open my mouth under his, and I am pleased when he does the same. My tongue finds its way into his open mouth and a jolt of pleasantness assaults my lower regions as our tongues touch. This time, though, it's not a battle for dominance. It feels like something new.
Refusing to question myself, I push at him gently until he takes the hint and sits down on the edge of the bed. Going even further, I climb on top of him so that I am straddling him, and his hands slide down to the small of my back, holding me in place. Then, hesitantly lower down until he's cupping my rear end. I make a sound of approval that I would be embarrassed by if we were doing anything else, but how can I be embarrassed? Our bodies mold together as if we were made to fit each other.
He's hard, all muscle, and when he grinds upwards while squeezing my butt closer to him, I feel how hard he is in another way.
Isn't that crazy, Emily? It just kept jetting out. For thirty seconds.
The memory is so sudden and out of nowhere that I literally gasp and jerk myself backwards, off the bed – Leah's bed – and away from Sam.
His face is flushed, his pupils are dilated, and he has the most adorable confused expression on his face. His pants are tented in a horrendously obvious way, and I stare at him feeling myself start to blush. His expression abruptly changes from confused to embarrassed.
"Sorry," he says, quickly, and before I can blink he's snatched a pillow to put in his lap.
"Don't be," I say, faintly. "It's perfectly natural."
But both of our faces are beet red now, and it's all we can do to even look at each other. I finally sigh and head back to the bed, though this time, I sit next to him instead of on top of him.
"Why did you stop?" he asks, his tone too forced to be casual.
At first I just shrug, but I know he deserves more of an answer than that. I don't want him to think I'm rejecting him… again.
"This is Leah's room," I say, looking him in the eyes, though it's nerve-wracking to do so. "It's already… a lot what we're doing, but I can't disrespect her by doing it in her room."
His eyes turn serious. "I understand."
To my horror, I feel my eyes start with the tears again. Normally, I'm not a huge crier, but all of this is entirely too overwhelming. Sam is amazing. He switches modes immediately. He gathers me into his arms once more, and rubs my back gently. Unable to do much else, I just sit and let the tears fall. He kisses each of my cheeks in turn.
"We'll figure this out," he says, softly. "I promise."
- FadingSlowly