Innocently Evil (A Kitty Bloom Novel) (9 page)

I thought about that and wondered w
hether keeping an eye on me might have also included spying on me while I was with Max. I seriously hoped not. “So, let me get this straight,” I began slowly, as I let my simmering annoyance show on my face. “While I’ve been wandering around completely lost, you’ve been following me and keeping an eye on me?”

Sam dropped his eyes from mine and seemed to consider his answer. He opened his mouth before he spoke, still searching for the right words and then looked at me with a worried frown.
“Yes,” he answered quietly.

With a frown,
I put my hands on my hips and took another step towards him. However, my aggressive stance probably would have looked slightly more intimidating if I hadn’t been dripping wet and resembling some sort of drowned rat. “And you didn’t think in all that time,” I said, still irritated, but slightly thankful for the rescue. “That you could have announced yourself and maybe—I don’t know—pointed me in the right direction.”

Sam bit his lip and looked away from me, then ran his fingers through his thick, wet mess of a
fringe. I watched him carefully while I waited for an appropriate answer. But, as I waited I saw the level of disappointment on his face. It looked as though the punishment he was internally giving himself was much worse than anything I could ever have come up with. And I wasn’t really that mad at him. He’d still come through in the end and that was all that mattered.

I dropped my hands from my hips, all my hot annoyance destroyed by his look of failure and cooled by the chill of the rain. It was my turn to look away from him.
“Thanks,” I said, under my breath.

Sam’s head spun to look at me and I didn’t have to see his face to know that he was surprised.

“Thank you,” I said again, warily looking up at him.

His face was total confusion and disbelief. I looked sincerely up into his eyes and my heart seemed to ache. His violet eyes looked so sad, so defeated, but yet somehow filled with a brief light of hope.

“Look, Sam,” I said, finding it hard to get out what I wanted to say. “I’m glad you were with me, keeping an eye on me, even if you didn’t help me straight away. I owe you so much more than you realize right now. I’m just happy that there’s someone out there looking out for me. And I’m really glad that that person is you, Sam. Okay?”

He was clearly shocked by my words. He seemed so unsure about how to take them, how to take what I meant. I saw him swallow deeply and clench his jaw tight. A mixture of sadness and relief appeared in his eyes and then he looked away. When he looked back up at me a moment later, he was back in control and smiling weakly.

“Come on,” he said, wi
th a little catch in his throat, “let’s get out of this rain.” He put his hand out to me and I took it without hesitation. His skin was cold and slick with water, and although I was still shivering from the icy rainfall, just the touch of his skin against mine seemed to add a little comfort and warmth to my body.

Sam led me down a small alleyway off the large one I’d been travelling down and held my hand tight.
It was only a couple more alleys before he pulled me to a stop. We stepped gratefully under a small awning of a nearby house and Sam removed a brass key from his pocket. He tentatively released my hand and went to the dark green door in front of us. Turning the key in the lock, Sam then twisted the door handle and pushed the door inwards. He waved his hand in an invitation to enter and partially bowed his head in mock elegance. “Welcome to my house,” he said.

I raised an eyebrow and had to stop myself from letting
out a laugh at his formal invitation. When I didn’t make a move to enter, but just kept looking at his posture with an overly amused smile, he frowned at me and straightened. Then, he stuck his thumb out and pointed inside the front door. “Get in, would you,” he said, sounding more like himself. “Or do I have to throw you over my shoulder again and carry you in?”

I smiled as I moved to step inside, but couldn’t help myself and ended up laughing as I stepped over the threshold.
Inside Sam’s house, it was warm and cozy. There was a rosy fireplace already burning softly in the small, dark lounge room and the kitchen in the opposite room was full of rich, golden brown colors and smelled faintly of baking. In front of me was a narrow staircase, brightened by a white skylight, which led to the second floor.

I hadn’t
realized that I had paused in the small entryway until Sam had hung up his drenched, black leather jacket on a hat stand and began to step around me. He walked past me to the bottom of the stairs and kicked off his boots. Then he turned to face me with a lopsided smile. “This is the Chateau Sam,” he said. “Let me give you the tour.”

Now only in a soaking, transparent, white singlet, da
rk denim jeans and bare feet, Sam took a couple of steps to the kitchen. “The kitchen,” he said, seeming quite proud. He took the small number of steps needed to take him to the beginning of the lounge room and turned to face me again. “The lounge room,” he said, trying to remain serious. He walked back over to the bottom of the stairs and pointed up. “And the bedroom and bathroom are upstairs. Here ends the tour.”

Deciding to play along, I turned in a small circle, feigning serious interest.
“Nice, very nice,” I said. “But there is only one problem.” I turned to Sam and walked very close to him, until there was less than a foot between us. He gave me a curious smile and met my eyes.

“With o
ne bedroom,” I said, innocently, “what do you do if you have
guests
over?”

His
smile widened, and then he put his hand over his mouth and cleared his throat. I grinned at his reaction, but before I could have another go at him, he quickly changed the subject. “You’re welcome to the shower first,” he said, timidly. “If you want one that is. And there’s a dryer down here if you’d like to use it. You can borrow some of my clothes while you wait for yours to dry.”

At my puzzled smile, Sam cleared his throat again and
ran his fingers through his fringe. “That’s only if you want to, I mean.”

I couldn’t help myself. He’d seemed to put himself in such a position that I
just couldn’t stop myself trying to tease him. I knew I shouldn’t, but he really seemed to bring it out in me. I took that final step towards him until our bodies were almost touching and I leaned closer to him. I looked up into his eyes and turned my face as serious as I could.

“So,” I whispered, “what you’re trying to say is that this isn’t just a ploy to get me naked in
your house. Am I right?”

Sam’s eyes widened, he bit his plump bottom lip again and had to look away. His cheeks turned a light rosy pink.

I grinned with pleasure and patted him on the chest to show him I was joking. “A hot shower sounds great, Sam,” I said. Then I kicked off my shoes, leaving them near his, moved around him and started heading up the stairs.

Sam didn’t make a move to follow me. He seemed almost frozen at the bottom of the stairs.

I turned back around, now just about at the landing of the two sectioned staircase, and held onto the banister as I leaned back down to call out to Sam. “Any chance you could lend me a spare towel,” I asked, talking to his back. “And I could also use a little help finding some clothes to wear while I wait for mine to dry.”

“Right,” I heard him mutter firmly to himself.
Then he was moving again and climbing up the stairs behind me in haste.

When we reached the top, Sam ducked into the bedroom before me and went straight for
a small chest of drawers next to his bed. He rummaged hastily through drawer after drawer as I looked around his room from the threshold of his door. The whole room had a cool, blue glow about it, probably due to the pale, sky blue color of the walls and the gloomy glare of the day creeping in through the window. Apart from the champagne collared chest of drawers Sam was looking through, there was only a matching night stand, a black-painted closet and a large, double bed with black and white covers that filled his room. There was absolutely no clutter except for a pair of shoes and jeans thrown randomly on the floor beside his bed and a couple of novels on his night stand.

“Wow,” I s
aid, more to myself than to Sam. “Your room is so clean.”

Sam looked up at me from the mess he was creating by his chest of drawers and looked around the room at what I was taking in.
“I guess you could say it’s clean, because I don’t own that much,” he said, now looking at me. “But in my opinion, I’m still a messy person.” He looked down at the small mess of clothes that had fallen out around his feet during his search and then back up at me. “See,” he said.

Then he
went back to rummaging around in the drawer he was up to and after only a few moments more, he snatched out some clothes and held them up in the air. “Ah-huh,” he said, triumphantly. “Will these do?” In one hand, he held a black wife-beater singlet and in the other, a pair of navy track pants. I glanced at them, and could tell just by looking at them that they were going to be much too big for me. After all, Sam must have been at least over six foot three in height and his shoulder-width was easily one and a half times mine.

“As long as the pants have a tie to tighten them,” I said, looking at h
im with a small smile. “They should be just fine until my clothes are dry.”

His face brightened into a pleased smile and he shut the open drawer near him with his hip, then walked over to me and handed me the change of clothes.

“There’s one more thing though,” I said, refusing to let him pass me until I’d asked my question.

He stopped, tilt
ed his head slightly to the side and looked at me, obviously completely unsure about what I was going to ask.

“Is there any chanc
e,” I asked, a little nervously, “I could borrow some underwear?” Just before I’d finished my question, I’d watched as Sam’s face turned serious. I wasn’t exactly sure what he thought I might be asking him, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t what I actually wanted at that moment.

He looked so
relieved when I’d finally asked him and gave me a cheery grin. “Boxers or briefs,” he said, as he walked casually back into the room and opened another drawer.

“Boxers,” I answered quickly and quietly.
I was still embarrassed about the whole thing and wasn’t really sure how I felt about wearing someone else’s underwear, let alone Sam’s underwear. But, all I knew was that it had to be better than going commando underneath those baggy track pants. Now at least, if they happened to fall off at anytime, I wouldn’t be flashing my goodies to the world.

Sam pulled out a pair of grey and white boxers, closed the drawer and walked back over to me.
“These are the tightest I have,” he said, with such an amused grin he made my cheeks hot in embarrassment. He handed them to me and I let him slip past me out the door towards the bathroom. He stopped at the bathroom entrance and I stepped close beside him.

His
bathroom was full of sunny yellow, white and blue tiles and seemed much brighter than all the other rooms of the house. It had all the necessities, a shower, bath, toilet and basin, and yet still seemed to be quite a large, open space.

“Spare towels are in the cupboard on the right,” Sam said to me, then pointed to a cupboard beside the basin.
Then he leaned nonchalantly against the edge of the doorway and crossed his arms across his chest. His soaking wet clothes stuck, tight and hard to his body as he looked at me with a curious smile on his lips.

When I caught sight of his smile, I couldn’t help but smirk back at him.
“What,” I asked, as I tried to figure out what he was thinking.

“Oh nothing,” he began slowly.
“I was just thinking about
you
being naked in my house.”

I opened my mouth in amused shock and went to hit him in the stomach with my spare hand. But, he was too quick for me and had dodged my hand, and began heading down the stairs before I could take another shot.

“I hope you don’t mind me using all the hot water,” I yelled after him. I ran to the edge of the stairs and leaned over the frame of the banister to look down at him. He had stopped on the landing and was looking up at me with a cheeky grin. “‘Cause I think you’re in need of a cold shower,” I said.

Seven:
Here with Me

I hadn’t managed to use up all the hot water after all, even though I had tried. There just seemed to be an endless supply. I was now out of the shower and standing by the basin, dressed in Sam’s boxers and oversized black singlet. The track pants hadn’t come close to fitting, way too long and even with the tie as tight as it would go they still felt as though they would fall off. So, in the end, I’d given up on them and was hoping that I wasn’t risking my virginity by wearing only the little amount I was. Otherwise, I was pretty sure my mum would kill me.