found the warm center of her.
Their twin moans made the perfect sexual moment.
Right up until the phone rang.
The standard, unimaginative jingle wasn’t hers, and Sam pulled back with a
muttered oath, his hand going for the back pocket of his jeans, which were
precariously close to sliding off his butt.
“Leave it,” she said, terrified that he was about to take a phone call when she was
so damn close to finally learning what all the fuss was about.
“I just want to turn it on silent,” he said, tugging the phone out.
She saw the second his face changed.
“Who is it?”
The warmth faded from his eyes, and the mouth that had just been making her
writhe had straightened into a flat line. “My mother.”
Your mother?! “Can’t you … you know, call her back later?”
He continued to glare at the screen. “She and I aren’t really talking. She’s been
mad at me. If she’s calling now …”
Riley bit her lip. A tiny part of her—the horny, turned-on part—wanted to tell him
that a man who stopped sex to talk to his mother was every kind of bad cliché in
the book.
But the other part of her—the friend—knew that the relationship between Sam
and his mother was tenuous and a million kinds of messed up.
And if he thought she might be calling because something was wrong …
“Answer it.”
His finger was already swiping across the screen to answer the call. “Mom?”
He was sitting up now, and Riley already missed his warmth.
“What? When?”
Riley immediately sat up at the strain in his voice, her hand going to his shoulder,
which was tense and hard as granite beneath her palm.
“But—Mom, come on—”
Apparently Helena wasn’t letting him get a word in edgewise.
“Now hold on, just a second—tell me where—”
He broke off again, and although Riley couldn’t make out any words, she could
hear the screech of Helena’s voice on the other end. She frowned in confusion.
She’d known he didn’t have a good relationship with his mother, but he was good
and pissed now, in addition to sounding worried.
“Fine. We’ll do this your way. But I’m not listening to another word … No, you
don’t get it both ways, Mom. You can’t tell me I’m not welcome to visit you in the
hospital but then also expect me to stay on the line while you chew me out …
Call me if you change your mind, and I’ll be there. But this conversation is over.”
He tossed the phone aside and moved off the bed, away from her. Her hand
dropped onto the mattress. He didn’t want her comfort. Clearly.
“Sam?”
He didn’t turn to face her as he buttoned his jeans. “My mom’s in the hospital.
Chest pain.”
Riley’s hand went to her mouth. “Oh God, Sam, I’m sorry. Do you want me to go
with you—”
He gave a harsh laugh. “Nowhere to go. Didn’t you hear? She doesn’t want me
there.”
Riley’s jaw fell open, even though she’d surmised as much from his half of the
conversation. “But why?”
It simply didn’t compute. What sort of mother would turn her only son away from
the hospital during a very real health scare?
Sam shrugged and finally turned to face her, although he didn’t meet her eyes.
“She’s stable. They’re releasing her tomorrow after observation. She merely
wanted me to know that it was my fault for causing her so much stress. I haven’t
exactly been son of the year. I hardly ever see her, and last time I did, I stormed
out of the house.”
Riley inched toward the edge of the bed, her fingers itching to touch him again,
but in comfort this time. “I’m sure she understands. My mom and I have gotten
into a few doozies over the years.”
“Don’t do Erin the disservice of comparing her to my mom,” he said tersely. “This
was different.”
“Why? What did you fight about?”
He didn’t answer.
“Sam?”
Finally his eyes met hers, and the frustration in his pale blue gaze said it all. “Me?
She doesn’t even know me.”
“Little details like the truth don’t stop my mother from being cruel, Ri. She probably
just hates you because you make me happy.”
Riley’s heart stopped in her chest. What was he saying?
But telling as the declaration seemed to be, his expression hadn’t warmed, not
even a little bit. And he sure as hell wasn’t moving back toward the bed.
“Sam,” she whispered, reaching out a hand.
He didn’t reach back. “I should go.”