Forever (This #5) (20 page)

“Well, obviously.” I swallow. “And when we got to Bradley’s, Ryan said it was nice to see her again.”

“Yeah, he’s met her before. With me. But clearly there’s a past.” He leans a little closer. “Maybe they were friends, she wanted more, and he shut her down.” His nose touches mine, and I turn my head, allowing him room to come nearer. What are you doing, Sam? “Or maybe they were lovers who had the timing all wrong? Or maybe that’s all they were…were lovers…and she told him she couldn’t grow another day older without him saying yes to giving her more.” He darts his tongue out and wets his lips. “And knowing my brother and how selfish he can be, he probably broke her heart.”

“You’re not talking about them, are you?”

He stands up. “I think I’m feeling better. I’m going to bed.”

“Joe.”

“Sam.” He shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Don’t go.” I grab the railing and pull myself up.

“I can’t do this with you right now.”

“But what about being friends?”

“Just what I said.” His eyes turn cold.

“Screw you.” A tear trickles down my cheek. “You said it best a few minutes ago. You’re a fuckin’ bastard.” I push past him and wipe my face before I get to the top. I glare back over my shoulder. “Was this a game to you tonight?”

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “I could ask you the same.”

“You were never a game to me. You’ll never be something I toy with.”

“Ha. Are you actually serious?”

“I tried to do the right thing for all of us.”

He takes a step up and closes the distance between us. “Do you honestly believe that?” His face is level with mine. “That you did what was best for us?”

“I said all of us.”

“The hell with my brother. I’m asking you, do you think you did what was best for”—he fingers between our bodies— “me and you? For us?”

I look away.

“Dammit, don’t look away from me. Look me in the eyes and tell me if you think you did the right thing for us?”

I stare into his brown eyes, but words fail me. This can’t happen. “Goodnight, Joe.” I turn to walk back to my room.

“Sam.” His voice cracks. “Please don’t leave me again.”

I peer over my shoulder, and his hands are tangled in his hair. “I’m sorry.”

When I get to my room, the door’s closed, and I say a silent prayer that Rebecca isn’t in my bed screwing my boyfriend.

“What time did you come in last night?” Ryan asks.

Last night when I opened the door and walked in to find him sleeping alone in our bed, I blew out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Rebecca wasn’t in our room, and I didn’t have to actually talk, kiss, or make love to him myself. Even though my body responds to Joe in ways I wish it didn’t, I’ve never acted on any of it, and it would totally disgust me to think Ryan couldn’t pay me the same respect. If he doesn’t want to be with me, I’m fine with it at this point. But he should end it with me before putting his dick in someone else. “I didn’t look at the time, but I was surprised you were asleep.”

“I guess I didn’t realize how exhausted I was.”

My gut plummets. Is it possible they had a quickie and she’d already left by the time I got back to the room? Did she wear him out? Bile rises in my throat, and I swallow it back. Given the situation with Joe, I feel like a hypocrite for caring. I rush to the bathroom, start the shower, and toss my clothes to the floor. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

Ryan peeks his head around the curtain. “Want some company?”

I shake my head. “I’m not feeling well today. Think I may be coming down with something.” I try to cough. “You don’t want to catch this.”

The lines on his forehead crumple. “How was your talk with Gabby last night?”

“Good. Really good.” Shit. I’ve never lied to him like this. What am I doing?

Ryan eyes me speculatively. “Enjoy your shower. Save me some hot water, please.”

I smile. “Okay.” Relief washes over me as the steam billows from the shower. Once I have some privacy, I reflect back on that night with Joe, and I finally accept what I realized on the stairs last night.

“So. You’ve lived in Charleston your entire life and never been on a ghost tour?” Joe asks.

“Pretty much.” We are walking to the ticket booth to get our reservations.

“That’s a damn shame.”

“Eh. It’s only appealing to you because you’re not from here.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I’ve always loved listening to ghost stories.”

I sneak a peek at him. He’s looking straight ahead. “You believe in ghosts?”

He shrugs one shoulder. “Spirits, yeah.”

“You do not.” That seems so odd to me that this beautiful, tough, rugged man would admit that to me. He sways back into me, and when I fall to the side, I miss the heat of his body against mine for that brief second.

“What’s wrong with believing in spirits?”

“I don’t know.” There’s nothing wrong with it. I’ve never told anyone, but I’ve felt my mom. Strange things have happened. I’ve never even told Gabby. “Based on what Ryan said at the house, I just figured—”

“Ryan’s my brother, and he’s super smart, but he’s an idiot.”

“Ha.” I furrow my brows. “You’re just saying that because he’s your brother.”

“It’s true. Have you listened to some of the moronic statements to leave his mouth? Sometimes he doesn’t even have to say a word.” He peers down at me. “Like when he laughed at Gabby. I thought Bradley was going to beat the ever-loving shit out of him.”

“His fuse is very short where she’s concerned. I was proud of his display of self-control.” I laugh, and it makes me realize it’s been a while since laughing felt like this, but Joe’s right. When I’m not fighting the feelings, this is easy.

“So…” He leans into me again. “Do you believe in spirits?”

“Yes.”

“Seriously?” His eyes widen. The smile that’s been plastered to his face since I agreed to go on the ghost tour with him spreads.

“Yeah. My mom…”

“Oh. Wow.” He stops and takes a step toward me. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t wanna. That’s deeply personal.”

“I haven’t told anyone. Not even Gabby.”

“Not even my brother?” His eyes dance against the street lamps.

“Thankfully, no. His response to the whole ghost tour made me glad I’d made that decision.”

“I told you—”

“Don’t.” I put my finger to his lips. They’re warm and soft, and my self-control drains from my body, so I snatch my hand away. “This is good. We’re two friends going on a ghost tour. We’re not bickering about what is or isn’t between us.” He turns his head and his lips part. I raise my brows. “Don’t ruin it by talking about him the whole time.”

“So are we making a no talking about Ryan for the entire night pact right now?”

I laugh. “If you wanna call it that, then fine.”

“It is what it is, but we should shake on it.” He holds his hand out. I look down at it and swallow. “Or hug on it?” He stretches his arms out like he’s about to embrace me.

“Don’t push it.” I take his right hand in mine and we shake, never taking our eyes off each other. He’s grinning like a fool, and it’s contagious. Our shake lingers, and it’s like the world around us is in slow motion. Someone shoves past me, pushing me into Joe’s steel chest, my face nearly kissing his pecs. I’d be lying to say it didn’t feel good, comfortable, and euphoric. I pull myself away. “We should get our tickets.”

“I’ll get them for us.”

While I’m thankful for the potential space, the room to breathe again, and appreciate his offer, it won’t work. “They’re in my name. I’m sure I’ll need to show my ID.”

“I don’t think I could pass for you.” He smirks. “A little too tall. Not nearly beautiful enough.”

My cheeks redden. What I want to say is you’re more beautiful, but that’s a very bad idea. To give him any kind of hope this is going anywhere other than two friends hanging out for the night. “Why don’t you wait here? I’ll be right back.”

He nods. “Don’t bail on me,” he mumbles.

“You said this wasn’t optional. I already paid for the tickets anyway. Plus, two we don’t need.”

He says something else, but I can’t hear it. He shoves his hands in his pockets before sitting on the bench and watching people.

When I get to the counter, I feel eyes on me, and I turn back. His stare quickly shifts away from me.

“Can I help you?” the ticket master asks.

“I have tickets to pick up. Sam Gerhart.” I reach into my pocket and pull out my license and credit card. “There should be four for the nine-thirty tour.”

“Photo ID.”

I slide both pieces of plastic under the Plexiglas.

He reaches to the side and pulls an envelope. “Here you go. Enjoy your tour.” He slides my license and the tickets toward me.

“Thanks a bunch.” I take them and make my way back to Joe, who stands.

“So, we have two extra tickets.” I hold them up. “I hate to waste them.”

“Random act of kindness?”

My pulse quickens at his first thought being that of generosity. “Definitely.”

“Hey. Sir.” He taps a guy walking by. The man turns sharply, his green eyes blazing like he’s ready to toss Joe into next year, which makes Joe throw his hands up. “It’s cool, man. I just wanted to see if you and your girl would like tickets to the ghost tour.”

“We’re not interested in whatever you’re selling.”

“We’re not selling anything.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “We had some friends bail.” Bail. That’s putting it kindly. Gabby abandoned me. Left me for dead. Death by constriction.

“So, they’re free?” the girl at his side asks. “No strings attached?”

Joe smirks. “No strings attached. We’ll never see you again after spending the next ninety minutes with you on this tour.”

The guy grins before looking at his girl. “You up for it?”

She beams. “Uh. Yeah! Take ‘em before they change their minds.” Her accent is cute. Very southern.

The guy pulls the tickets from Joe’s grip. “Thanks, man.” He extends his other hand. “I’m Kyle.” He points to the girl. “This is Madison.”

I smile, then offer my hand. “Nice to meet you both.” This could be a great thing. Maybe they can save me from feeling like this is a date. From feeling completely alone with Joe. “I’m Sam.”