fingers of his seem to be everywhere.
“Yeah, I think you did.”
Gasping for breath, I finally admit, “I was kidding! Now stop tickling me!”
Instead of ceasing the torture, he keeps moving his hands over my sides until I’m practically to the point of peeing in my pants. “Nope. I don’t think I will.” Finally, when I don’t think I can take another second, he hauls me into his arms, holding me against that rock solid chest of his as I fight to catch my breath. We sit like that for a long silent moment.
And it feels… good .
Really good.
I don’t want to admit to myself that it feels better than anything else has in a really long time.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I try turning my thoughts in a different direction. The last thing I need is to allow my imagination to meander down this road again. Especially right now. But I can’t seem to help myself. As I inhale a big breath, the outdoor woodsy scent of him assaults my senses, making me almost dizzy with it. All I want to do is inhale another lungful.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I honestly don’t know where all these thoughts keep coming from lately.
This is Sam we’re talking about here.
Sam!
Not some random dude I can crush on without repercussions.
Sam is my best friend. One of the best guys I know. I don’t want to mess that up with fickle feelings and out of whack hormones. Sam isn’t a guy I can scratch some metaphorical itch with.
Only when he clears his throat, do my eyes pop open before latching onto his. I hope to hell he didn’t notice me trying to inhale him. How embarrassing would that be?
His voice sounds a little gruffer when he finally asks, “If you’re finally done drooling over Liam Garrison, maybe we can get to that movie?”
Even though I don’t necessarily want to, I pull out of his embrace because I know it’s the right thing to do. Strange that it doesn’t necessarily feel like the right thing to do at the moment. I don’t like these little sparks of attraction that keep flaring up within me. All they do is knock me off balance and leave me feeling confused and unsure of things.
Sam uses the remote to find a list of movie channels before scrolling through them at break neck speed. When an oldie but goodie catches my eye, I immediately jump up.
“That one!”
He flips back a few channels before a deep groan slides pathetically from his lips. “Really? Again ?” Then he whines like a little boy trapped in a man’s body, “Do we have to watch that?”
I can’t help the huge smile that spills its way across my face. “Yep, that’s the one.” I’m practically chortling with delight.
After a few moments, Sam apparently comes to the sad realization that this isn’t a winnable war for him because he grumbles under his breath, “Fine, but you owe me.”
Ha!
I owe him nothing.
I’ve been subjected to way too many freeze-your-butt-off-in-the-stands football games to ever owe him for anything. And he knows it, which is exactly why he capitulated so easily.
I laugh as Sixteen Candles gets under way. Even though it’s a movie from the eighties, I absolutely love it. We’re talking total cult classic. I’ve actually lost track of just how many times I’ve forced Sam to sit through it. Although it’s enough that we can easily parrot the lines back and forth to one another which makes it all the more enjoyable.
Even though he was groaning only moments ago, I secretly think he enjoys the movie just as much as I do. I mean, come on, it’s freaking hilarious. With a contented sigh, I pick up my glass of wine before settling back onto the couch, nestling myself next to his big body.
For some reason it occurs to me that my grandmother is absolutely right.
Sam is perfect boyfriend material. I suppose it is kind of surprising that he hasn’t had more of a steady girlfriend throughout the last six years. He’s so handsome with all that