AN: What was this, like, three days? Jeez, I'm slacking. Just kidding (kind of). I don't know, a lot could be going on here, but I think I'm pleased. More than I was with the last one, at least. I've got so many ideas for the rest of this story. This thing is going to end up being SO long... Thank god Marys is letting me use her as a sounding board because I need a way to keep all of my ideas in check.
Let me know what you think...
No, Andy thought, tossing a shoe off to the side. No. Another one. Maybe. She thought finally, setting a pair next to her. She was sitting on her bedroom floor, leaning over her crossed legs into her closet. The dress she picked out for the party was laying on her bed—sparkly and tight, just like a New Year's dress should be. The shoes, though, the shoes were an issue. She hated heels, but she owned them. The pair sitting next to her were the ones she wore to prom, also sparkly. And they were the best contender. She would have been happy in a pair of jeans and her running shoes, but it was a party and she wanted to look good. It had been weeks since she'd seen Sam, after all.
Andy laid back on her bedroom carpet and uncrossed her legs so she was flat with her arms above her head. Sam. She was going to see Sam, have an actual conversation with him, and she was overly excited. Excited, but nervous. What if he realized, in their time apart, that he didn't feel the same way about her—that he didn't and could never love her? What if all the planning she was putting into her outfit was for nothing and she ended up asleep in Tanner's car as he drove them back to the city? What if she had to go back to school in two weeks and see him every day and he would look the other way?
"Andy could you get the door?" Her father yelled from his bed just as the doorbell rang. She sighed, but got up and bounced down the stairs. Her father hadn't moved all day, just laid in his bed and whined from time to time. Served him right.
She pulled open the front door to find Ronnie smiling at her. "Hi," she said, stepping aside so he could come in. "What are you doing here?"
"You have a party to go to tonight, I assume?" He said and she narrowed her eyes and nodded. "Good, you should go and let me hang back with your old man."
"Why?" She asked, following him into the kitchen. He set down the dish he had brought and leaned against the counter.
"I heard about what happened last night," he told her and she nodded, looking down at her feet. "I don't want you to have to worry about that, Andy. Me and the wife are going to hang out here for the night, have our own little party. I don't want you caught up with this."
"Thank you, Ronnie," she said crossing the kitchen to hug him. "You're a good friend."
"You're a good kid," he smiled. "Go get ready. Kelly wants to see you before you leave."
She smiled again and bounded to her bedroom. She heard her father finally get out of bed and find his way downstairs, but she ignored it and pulled on her dress. She left the shoes off so she could comfortably put on her makeup and straighten her, but put them on when she heard the doorbell again. She couldn't hear who it was over her music, but she didn't care. It was either Ronnie's wife, Kelly, or it was Tanner there to pick her up.
Her dad was opening the door and looked up when he heard the heels on the wooden stairs. His eyes widened and he smiled and she smiled back as both Kelly and Tanner walked in together.
"Andy! You look amazing," Kelly said and Andy walked down the rest of the steps to hug her. "Very New Yearsy."
"Thank you," Andy smiled. She turned her attention to Tanner and said, "Let me just grab my coat and we can go."
"Yeah," he smiled, walking toward the kitchen with Kelly, toward Ronnie.
As soon as Andy was alone with her father, Tommy pulled her coat off the hook where it was hanging and held it open for her to slip into. "You'll be home tomorrow?" He asked as her arms slid into the holes.
"I should be," she said, turning toward him again. "If anything changes, I'll call you."
"Thanks, kid," he said and she smiled as she buttoned her coat. "Have fun."
"You too," she said before kissing his cheek. "We're okay, right? After yesterday…"
"You tell me."
"We will be," she told him and he nodded. "I love you."
"Love you," he said and they shared a small, uncertain smile.
"T, let's go," she called and her dad rubbed her shoulder before walking away.
New Year's Eve wasn't something Sam normally celebrated, not really. He'd go to parties just to go and hang out with his friends, but he'd always made it a point not to be dating anyone when the holiday came around. He didn't want to be anyone's resolution, he didn't want to get anyone's hopes up. It was different with Andy, though. Wasn't it always? She had a way about her and, yeah, it terrified him usually—that she made him feel something real—but, after two weeks of separation, he just needed to see his girlfriend.
So, as he stood in Jerry's living room—perfectly in view of both the front and back doors—he listened half heartedly to something Oliver and Celery were talking about. His eyes alternated from one door to the other and each time one opened, he'd stare hopefully until he realized it wasn't Andy. He felt like a kid on Christmas when it finally was her—his face lit up and his fists clenched in excitement—but then he saw her smiling and laughing with Mike's little brother. His face fell and he started toward them before stopping and walking in the opposite direction.
He didn't care that they were friends. He didn't care that he made her laugh or smile. He didn't care that they spent an hour and a half together, alone, in the car. Honestly, he didn't. At that moment, he just cared that it wasn't him and that she didn't look nearly as excited to see him as he felt to see her.
She had come in the front door, so he moved toward the kitchen and the back door. There was a keg set up there and he filled two cups. When he entered the living room again, calmer and thinking more rationally, his eyes went around the room as he looked for her. Looking for her in that tiny house filled with people was near impossible, though. He finally saw her moving toward the kitchen herself, now flanked by her roommates and Tanner. He was closer, so he headed toward the back of the house again—not caring at all that he looked like he was just going back and forth.
When she and her friends entered, her eyes landed on his immediately and she smiled at him—all wide eyed and excited. He couldn't keep the smile off of his own face as she came toward him. Before either said a word, her arms were around him and her face was buried in his neck. He hugged her back, careful of the two beers in his hands, and breathed her in.
"Hey, McNally," he said and she pulled back enough to rest her hands on his shoulders. He held up one of the beers and her smile widened as she took it from him. She took a sip and placed both hers and his on the counter behind them.
"I missed you," she said carefully and he nodded.
"Two weeks is a long time," he agreed and she looked him up and down—reading him, he knew. He wanted to tell her so much right then, but he couldn't. Not at a party. "Too long."
Then, she kissed him. When she did, he forgot about her walking in with her ex-boyfriend and how it made him just a little bit jealous. He forgot about how uncertain things were when she left for winter break. All he remembered was how much he had missed her and how much he didn't want her to go back home for another two weeks. He didn't care that they were in the middle of a crowded kitchen in an even more crowded house, he held her tighter and kissed her harder.
When Andy and Sam finally pulled apart, it took a full minute for her heart to slow again and her smile to shrink. She'd missed him. Every part of her missed him. And he was finally there in her arms. And if she had to guess, he was telling her everything she ever wanted to know through his kiss.
"You're taller," he said, holding her at arm's length to glance at her shoes.
"Well, I don't always were high heels and tight dresses, but when I do it's for you," she said and then watched as he blushed—a rare sight. Her hands slid up his arms until she could frame his face. "You wouldn't happen to have any extra room in that bed of yours, would you?" She asked quietly, stepping closer again. "I don't really feel like bumming a ride back to the city tonight."
"You can have the whole damn bed if it means you're staying," he said and she laughed before hugging him again.
"Where's the fun in that?" She whispered in his ear and she swore she felt him tremble against her. His hands slid to her waist and she stepped back from the hug.
"Sammy, we're up on the pool table," Jerry said, nearly falling into the kitchen. Sam sighed, but Andy smiled at him.
"Go," she said gently. "I'll be here when you're done," she promised with a smile. He nodded and kissed her forehead before walking away from her.
"That looked promising," Traci said, next to her all of a sudden.
"It felt promising," Andy laughed as Gail joined them. "Where'd Tanner go?" She asked, looking around the kitchen.
"His brother took him somewhere," Gail shrugged. She eyed Andy and Sam's beers and picked up on. "You think Swarek will mind?"
"I doubt he'll notice," Andy told her, picking them both up and handing her the one that didn't have her lip gloss on it.
Andy kept one hand on her beer and pulled her dress down with her other while she continued to look around the party. She wasn't expecting there to be so many people—parties at Jerry's were typically smaller and far less crowded—and it felt like a typical house party. The lights weren't really on—just a few here and there—the beer was flowing, but there was little food. She only knew a handful of people, but she didn't mind. The ones she knew were the only ones she cared about.
"Should we mingle?" Traci asked and Gail rolled her eyes.
Andy laughed but nodded. "We should do more than just stand around," she said and the three of them headed toward the living room.
Andy stopped Traci with a hand on her wrist as the neared the pool table. Sam was setting up a shot with far too little room to do so, but when he took the shot he sank two balls. She smiled and when he stood up, he had his own smug smile and it made her laugh. At the sound, his eyes drifted toward hers and his smile turned from smug to affectionate. She watched as he took his next shot, but he didn't make it and he handed the stick off to Mike. It was then she noticed that Jerry and Sam were playing against him and Tanner.
As Mike began to take his shot, Sam rounded the table and walked right toward her. "You distracted me," he said, just loud enough for her to hear. She laughed and tangled her free hand in his belt loops.
"Maybe you just suck," she teased and he laughed. "Find me when you're done?"
He kissed her and hummed, "Mmm," against her lips. "Don't worry, I'll finish them fast."
"I don't know, man," she laughed, letting go of him. "Tanner knows his way around a pool table."
"So do I," he promised and then kissed her again.
Sam finished his game with a quick pat on the back from Jerry after they dominated the table. He nodded his goodbye to his competition and wandered toward the back of the house. He caught sight of Andy on the other side of the room, now talking with Oliver. She had a small smile on her face as she listened to him and he thought, again, of how much he'd missed her.
It didn't make sense, not really. Sam didn't go around missing people. He'd always been really good at thinking about anything else. When Monica finally got sick of his closed off ways and broke up with him, he missed the idea of her, but not her. Maybe that was a sad way to spend his life—never getting attached enough to miss people when they walked out on him—but, maybe no one had ever made a big enough impact on his life. At least, not a positive one.
When Oliver got called away, he smiled at Andy one last time and Sam moved toward her before anyone else could intercept him. As soon as she was in reach, he took hold of both her wrists and walked her back until they were in the laundry room. Her eyes widened in surprise before she laughed and he smiled before making sure the door was closed and locked.
The room had three piles of clothes against one wall and the washer and dryer against the other. There was only about two feet between them, so it wasn't the roomiest—or most romantic—option, but it was the first thing he could think to do to get her alone. Together, they looked around the small room until he finally backed her against the dryer with his lips on hers.
She was the one to push herself to sit on it, using her legs to pull him closer. He gently pushed the bottom of her dress higher up her legs so he could fit between her thighs and kiss her again. Her legs tightened around him and he stood taller and leaned into her—connecting with her body at every possible point. Her hands tangled in his hair and he grasped at the back of her dress and when she pulled her head back for a breath, his lips moved down the column of her neck.
"Did you win?" She asked breathlessly and he laughed against her before pulling back to look her in the face.
"Yeah, told you I would," he smirked and she squeezed her legs tighter until he laughed. She laughed with him and rested her forehead against his. "I want to talk to you," he said, reaching behind him to untangle her legs.
"Okay," she said, taking a deep breath, and he stepped back enough to place his hands on her lower thighs.
"About what we talked about…" he said slowly. He was watching his fingers on his right hand as the drummed against her smooth skin and then as they curled around the back of her knee. "Before you left."
"Okay," she said, pulling her dress down again uncomfortably. He dragged his eyes from his hand to her face and smiled.
"I want you around," he told her quietly. "For however long it takes. And for however long you'll put up with me. I'm not perfect, McNally, but I don't want you to go anywhere."
It took a few excruciating seconds, but eventually a smile began to spread across her face. He let out a sigh of relief. And she pulled on his hands to bring him closer again.
"Then, I'm not going anywhere, Sam."
A scream woke her up, but it wasn't real. It was a part of her dream. But it was enough to wake her up, to make her sit up, and, then, the tears came. Silent, soft tears at first started falling down her cheeks. But, the more she thought of the dream, the more she thought of her father's alcoholism eventually claiming his life, she was holding in sobs.
Trying to catch her breath and still keep quiet, she laid back down next to Sam. She pulled the sheets and comforter up to her chin, she covered her face with her hands, and she let the emotions pour out of her.
It wasn't the first time she'd had such a vivid dream. It wasn't even the first time she'd dreamt of her father dying suddenly, but it was the first time she felt like she had to hide it. She rolled onto her side so her back was to Sam and buried her face in a pillow as the sobs continued to move through her body. She was shaking, she was having a hard time breathing, she couldn't will the tears to stop.
All of a sudden, an arm circled her waist and she was stunned still. Sam's chest was at her back and she could feel his steady, sleeping breaths. It started to calm her. If he continued to hold her, she knew she could breathe normally again. She knew, eventually, she'd fall back asleep.
"I'm right here," he said suddenly, quietly. She squeezed her eyes shut and listened as his breathing returned to the same, steady sleeping ones like before. "I'm going to hold onto you and I'm never gonna let you go."
She turned her head ever so slightly to see his face, but he was already asleep again. His arm was tighter around her waist and she knew he had said those words, but she didn't even think he ever woke up. She turned her head back and noticed that the tears had stopped, her breathing had calmed, but her heart was racing
She laced her fingers through his around her waist and settled against him. She felt his lips on her bare shoulder—not even kissing, they were just there—and she relaxed again. Sam wasn't a man of many words. He wasn't a man of emotions, either. And she understood that something in his life was making it difficult for him to commit to her, at least with words, but the way he held her and soothed her—unconsciously, nonetheless—spoke just as loud as any "I love you."