“Yes.”
Present Day
“Do you want to go first, or should I?”
Samantha’s face was red with exertion, her back already aching under the weight of the sculpture. They’d only just made it into the living room, which meant they still needed to make it down the stairs, through the courtyard, and to the front of the building where his car was parked. “You,” she said on a winded breath. “I’ll follow.”
He nodded quickly, silently agreeing with her decision, and turned around, carefully easing his back into the stairwell. He adjusted his grip on the bubble wrap, lifting the sculpture around a sharp corner like a professional furniture mover, and took the first step backward down the stairs. “Easy now.”
She followed after him, her jaw flexed with the weight pulling at her shoulders. But she wouldn’t let him see her struggle. Not now, not ever. Even it if ripped her arms right out of their sockets.
They shuffled down the steps one at a time, through the courtyard, and to the front of the building. He finally lowered the sculpture to the ground a few feet away, where Samantha released the weight, maybe with a little more oomph than she’d intended, and stepped backward.
She pulled in a few deep breaths before standing, replenishing the oxygen she’d lost on the flight downstairs.
“You’re stronger than you look, Smiles.” He grinned, pulling his keys from his front pocket and hanging them on his finger. “I wasn’t sure you’d make it.”
Samantha straightened, resisting the urge to snatch the keys out of his cocky hand. She looked down the row of cars, inwardly cringing at how much farther they still had to go. “Which one’s yours?”
His lips lifted. He stepped forward shaking his head and unlocked the door to the light blue ’67 Ford Mustang just in front of them.
She vaguely remembered it—from long ago. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“About what?” he asked.
“About that.” She gestured her chin toward the car. “We’re not driving all the way to New York in that—are we?”
He moved to lean his hip against the taillight, and placed a pair of aviator glasses on his face. “That’s the plan, sweetheart. Is that a problem?”
She pressed her lips together at the endearment. “We’re driving over three thousand miles,” she stated. Reasonable. Let’s all be reasonable. “In a car that’s fifty years old?”
“And?”
“Don’t you think it would be wise to take a more reliable form of transportation?”
He shrugged.
Oh, dear God! She turned toward her apartment and wiped her hand over her face. “You know what—here, let me get my car. It’s not very big, but—”
“Greta”—he tapped hard on the back fender of the Mustang—“hasn’t let me down yet.” He popped the trunk, lifting it all the way open. “I’ll ignore the fact that you insulted her.”
Samantha narrowed her eyes, her heart pounding with the need to punch him. “You’re just as sweet as I remember.”
He huffed out a laugh, pulling the glasses from his face, and resting one finger on his bottom lip. “Oh yeah? And what do you remember, Samantha?”
Chapter Six
Six years earlier
“Hang on, Sam, a little bit longer, we’re almost there.”
Samantha clung onto Tristan’s neck, their heads bobbing up and down from each pull of his breaststroke. How he’d convinced her to do this was beyond her. She’d never even touched Tristan before, and now only the thin, wet fabric of her bathing suit separated them from being skin to skin.
Maybe it was guilt that made her agree. Guilt over believing every bad thing she’d ever heard about him since middle school. Or maybe it was because the thought of making it back by means of the tree branch made her bottom ache… But if she was being honest with herself, being this close to Tristan Montgomery made her feel alive. He did something to her, something exciting and nerve racking. But it wasn’t just that. He made her think, he challenged her in every way possible, and she loved it.
As they approached the small, rocky landing of the shore, she set her feet on the ground, making the rest of the ten or so feet on her own. Tristan was right beside her, his tan back glistening in the faint light of the moon.
Tristan sat down on the rocky beach a few feet away. Long wisps of his hair clung to his forehead before he pushed them back, revealing a soft, contagious grin. He leaned back on a large rock, using it as a pillow, and looked up at the stars.
But he said nothing, just lay there, looking into the sky. Samantha stood beside him, her arms wrapped around her middle, wondering what to do. Going back to the cabin was an option, back to Renee and dry clothes, but for some reason, she didn’t want to. She didn’t want this night to end—not yet.
Gazing up at the sky, she marveled at the millions of stars that were normally impossible to see. She glanced down at the spot beside him, knowing it was a bad idea, but finally picked an area to sit.
They were both quite for a time, absorbed in the magic of the evening when he finally spoke. His voice soft, breathy, mysterious. “This is my favorite,” he whispered.
She turned to look at him, puzzled by this new side of him she’d never noticed before. “What is?”
“This. Seclusion. The quiet… I can actually hear myself think.”
She swallowed. “And what are you thinking about?” She laid her head beside his. Too close. Not touching, but close enough that the pounding in her heart increased a little.
“Not much.” But the way he said it, with the heaviness in his voice, she knew it was the opposite. Tristan Montgomery was thinking about a lot. She only wished she knew what it was.
She turned back to the sky, where the night was so dark it offered a narrow patch of privacy, but she said nothing at all for a good ten minutes. It wasn’t awkward though, even though she thought it should be, lying next to the boy she’d hated for as long as she could remember. She couldn’t figure it out, because sometimes she felt uncomfortable with Steven, and they’d been friends for nearly four years. She played with a rock with her fingers, rubbing the soft edges against her palm. Maybe her calmness was because Tristan affected her more than she cared to admit. Maybe for the first time in her life, she was enjoying herself without the worry of tomorrow.
Tristan finally turned to her, adjusting himself sideways on the rock until he faced her. As if they were lying on a bed, instead of the beach of the lake they’d crawled out of. “You have a good vibe about you, Sammie Smiles. You relax me, and that doesn’t happen very often.”
Her stomach tightened, and she took a deep breath before speaking. “I relax you?” she asked, reluctantly turning her head to face him. She hated the effect he was having on her, but loved it at the same time. He causes a delicious bundle of contradictions to roll around inside her. A push and pull like she’d never felt before.
“Yeah.” The corner of his mouth lifted, but he didn’t say anything else. He just lay there, so close she could feel his breath on her face, so close she could feel the heat radiating off his skin.
She turned back to the sky, needing to put distance between her and the boy she wasn’t sure if she hated any longer. She needed more than that; she needed to get up, go back to the cabin, and put herself to bed. But she couldn’t make herself do it. She couldn’t convince her body to move, no matter how hard she tried. No matter how loud her internal voice yelled, she couldn’t move. Even though she knew she should, even though no good ever came of girls who sat too close to Tristan Montgomery. Because she knew that if she did, if she got up and walked back to the cabin, this moment would never come again.
“I have the same problem as you,” she stated. She wasn’t sure why, because there was no reason to share such a thing, but her voice came again, uneven and vulnerable. “With a boy, anyway.” She hesitated for a moment, her fingers playing with the rocks by her side. She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to talk about Steven, but she did. “He wants to date me. I just don’t know what to tell him. All our friends expect us to get together. I mean, he’s so persuasive—even I expect us to end up together, some days…” She turned to Tristan, too curious about his reaction to keep the distance any longer. “But at the same time, I don’t know what to say.”