Something Reckless(23)

“Talk about what?” My smile is so plastic you could make Barbies with it. I push past her and find my way to the living room, where Sam is standing, looking out the window with his hands shoved into his pockets.

He’s in a simple white T-shirt and jeans, but he’s so gorgeous it hurts to look at him. Sometimes it’s nice to want things you can’t have, and sometimes the want is so deep that it’s a flame tearing through your heart.

“Hey, Sam!” I call, keeping my Barbie smile in place.

He turns, and I wait for his eyes to skim over me in my too-short cut-offs and tank, but they don’t. In fact, he’s looking at me, but I can tell he’s not seeing me at all. “Can we talk?”

“Sure! Let me slip on some shoes.” I don’t want to leave with him, but I’m so ashamed of the position I’ve put myself in, the heartbreak I brought on myself, that I don’t want Hanna to witness this conversation either.

I slip on my flip-flops and grab my hoodie from the hook by the door, then lead him outside. We walk for a bit without talking, just breathing in the cool, late-autumn air and trying to figure out where we fit with each other now. Or at least, that’s what I’m doing.

“I know we said it was just one night,” he begins.

I can’t handle hearing more, so I butt in before he can speak again. “No strings, no attachments, no expectations. You’re not here because you’ve changed your mind on me, are you?”

He stops walking and blinks at me. “I . . .” He shakes his head then swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “A friend gave me some news this morning, and I wondered if I could take you out. Talk to you about it.”

His tongue down her throat sure made it seem like she was more than a friend. “I’m kind of busy.” My heart trips on the tangle of emotions in my chest, but I’m determined to get through this with my pride intact. I’ve been rejected by Sam before. I can’t handle being rejected again. “No expectations, Sam. But that has to go both ways. I don’t want this to be all awkward now.”

He cocks his head, studying me. “You’re special, Rowdy. Sometimes I get the feeling you don’t actually know that.”

Don’t do this. Don’t say nice things that make me want to love you. “I’m just a girl who needed a good lay. Thanks for that.”

He flinches. Sam Bradshaw actually flinches at my rough words. Inside, I’m flinching too. “I don’t even know what to make of you.”

I shrug. “Do you really need to know?” Oh, fuck. Tears burn the back of my throat and I can’t let them out. Not here while he can see. “Can you do me a favor? Don’t tell anyone about our little . . . indiscretion? I’d like to keep it our secret. I don’t want people getting the wrong idea about me.”

“Who would I tell?”

One more time with the plastic smile. This is it, I promise myself. Just one more minute smiling, and you’re out of here. “It was sweet of you to come by, but you don’t need to worry about me.”

I give a little wave, turn, and walk away, and I feel his eyes on me with every step.

“Rowdy,” he calls when I’m nearly to the door. I turn to face him but don’t trust myself to talk. He jogs to the porch and a takes a deep breath. “Her name’s Asia. I thought it was over, but things might get . . . serious.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I . . .” He shrugs. “I wanted you to hear it from me first.”

“Good night, Sam.”

When I get back into the house, Hanna’s on the couch, her legs curled under her, her laptop perched on the coffee table. “Is Sam okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. He just wanted to talk to me about Max.” Hanna’s whole body flinches at the mention of her unrequited love, and I hate myself a little more than usual for bringing up his name. “Nothing like that,” I say. “Just trying to get me to join the gym to support Max. As if, right?”

Hanna’s eyes go a little hazy, and I know I’ve thrown her off the trail of my troubles for a couple of minutes.

“I’m going to go finish painting.”

Back in my room, a four-by-four patch of pink wall stares at me. Suddenly, I regret everything—pretending I was okay with Sam, painting my room, going to his house last night . . . the whole damn weekend.

I rush to the bathroom and turn on the shower, wiping the tears from my face as fast as they fall. I’m not sure what makes me grab my phone, but I text Connor.

Her name’s Asia. That’s all I know.





Then I climb into the shower, lean against the wall, and let the hot spray wash away my foolish hopes and all my naïve beliefs that I might be something special to him.