12. Sam

12

SAM

"Worryin' is 'bout as useful as a glass hammer." ~ Archie "Witty" Whitlock

Time was passing slower than molasses. I told myself the seconds felt like hours because I was waiting to take my next dose of pain medication, but the truth was, I didn't think it had anything to do with that.

Kenna had been gone for four hours.

Four. Freaking. Hours.

They hadn't gone out of town. I knew that because I'd gotten messages from people who spotted the happy couple at The Pig Pen, which was Wishing Well's answer to fine dining. It took ten minutes to get to the steakhouse and ten minutes to get home. What could they be talking about for four fucking hours?

She'd texted to check in several times just to make sure I was doing okay. The last message I got from her, I'd been tempted to tell her that I wasn't so that she'd come home. But I hadn't. It wasn't fair.

Milo had only stayed an hour before I sent him home. I told him I was tired and just wanted to sleep. The truth was, I didn't want him sitting beside me while I obsessed about his little sister and what she was doing on her date.

After he left, I'd done a full Google deep dive on Jonah Walsh. I'd gone down the online stalker rabbit hole and left no digital stone unturned.

Besides being a single dad, retired NFL player, and firefighter, he had a charity that supported single moms. Apparently, he was raised by one. He volunteered at animal shelters every Fourth of July, reading to dogs who were scared of fireworks. And he partnered with a food bank by hosting an annual drive.

This guy was a fucking saint. A saint who looked like Charlie Hunnam, who just happened to be Kenna Hale's celebrity crush. At least he didn't look like Jake Ryan from Sixteen Candles . If he did, I'd be well and truly fucked. She was obsessed with Jake Ryan, but he was fictional. Jonah was real. She was on a date with a real-life version of her celeb crush.

I knew that I should be happy for her. I'd always wanted her to be happy. Or maybe that's just what I'd told myself because I'd always known I held the number one spot in her life and in her heart. She'd never looked at any of her boyfriends like she looked at me. Her loyalty and love were never in question.

But now things were different. She was different. I could feel her putting walls up, and I wanted to kick them down like an emotional SWAT team.

Headlights shone through the front blinds, and I turned my head and saw her pulling up into the driveway. For the first time since she'd walked out that door, my body relaxed.

"Mommy's home." I scratched Winnie, who was curled up beside me on the couch behind the ear.

I peered out at her through the blinds as she stepped out of her Jeep. Even in the dimness of nightfall, I could see how beautiful she looked. Moonlight shone down on her long, copper-colored locks. Her fair skin glowed with ethereal beauty. Her full red lips shimmered with a glossy hue. I hadn't seen what was beneath her coat before she left, but I was sure whatever it was looked amazing. Just thinking of her curves hidden beneath her trench had my heart rate picking up.

As she walked up the steps, I turned my attention back to Winnie, so she didn't catch me acting like a peeping tom.

"How was dinner?" I asked before she even had a chance to close the door behind her.

She jumped and spun around to me. "Why are you sitting in the dark?"

Was I? I glanced around and saw that the TV was off and no lights in the house were on. I guess I hadn't noticed when the sun went down because I was too busy looking up Jonah on my phone.

"Nothin' on TV," I explained.

"You couldn't sleep?" she asked as she flipped on the light over the entrance.

It illuminated all around her, giving her an angelic glow. I watched as she removed her coat and revealed what was beneath it. The sight had my mouth watering like Niagara Falls. She was wearing a black dress; it wasn't revealing at all, it was sleeveless with a scoop neck, and it went down to her mid-calf, but the material hugged her curves like a second skin. My eyes scanned her body, drinking in her hourglass figure.

"Sam?" she said my name as if she were asking a question.

My eyes shot back up to hers. "What?"

"You couldn't sleep?" She repeated the question I'd totally forgotten she'd even asked. "Milo said you kicked him out because you were tired and wanted to sleep."

Oh, right. I had done that.

"No, I couldn't get comfortable." That wasn't a lie. I hadn't been able to get comfortable, but that had less to do with my physical aches and pains and more to do with my anxiety and stress at her being on a date with Jonah I-played-in-the-NFL Walsh.

Kenna nodded as she bent down and slipped off her high heels. After lowering onto her bare feet, she sighed in relief as she set her shoes beside the door. She wasn't a high-heel girl. She'd always hated wearing them. She only ever pulled them out on special occasions. Between that dress and those heels, this date was clearly a special occasion. That knowledge hit me like a cement slab to the nuts.

Another soft exhale fell from her lips as she gathered her hair, twisting it around with her hands before curling it into a bun on the top of her head, revealing the sensual curve of her neck. "Do you need anything?"

Yes. You.

"No."

Her lips pursed the way they did when she was thinking as she picked up one of my prescriptions and squinted down at it. She was reading it when her phone buzzed, and she pulled it out of her purse. From the look on her face, I knew who the message was from. It was Jonah, making sure she got home okay.

She bit her lower lip as she typed back.

"Tell Jonah I said hi."

Her eyes lifted to mine. For a moment, she looked surprised that I knew who was messaging her, but then she looked back down and put her phone away.

Now, she was ignoring my comments altogether, not even dignifying them with a response. This was not good—not good at all.

"Milo said you barely ate any pizza." She changed the subject completely.

"Did he also tell you I took a shit?" I snapped at her. I didn't mean to. It wasn't her fault that I was being a little bitch about this situation. I seriously needed to get my shit together and stop taking out my heartache and frustration on her.

She was perfect. An angel. My angel. She'd never done anything to deserve me being a dick.

"No, but I'm glad you did," she replied, as if she hadn't even noticed my curt tone. "That can be an issue with your pain medicine."

Why were we talking about me shitting? I needed to turn this around.

"How was your date?" I hadn't planned on asking that. In fact, I was about as interested in talking about her date as I was talking about me taking a shit, but I had to ask. I needed to know.

She bent down as she greeted Winnie, who was standing up on the back of the love seat to get her attention. "Good. How is your pain level? Did you take your medicine?"

"I'm fine."

When she straightened, she saw the pile of treasures that Winnie had brought me piled up on the coffee table. There was a hair tie, a sock, a lip gloss, and a slipper.

"Someone's been busy." She smiled as she walked around the loveseat and bent over to grab the items. When she did, I got a very nice view of her cleavage. Fuck. Had she bent over like that in front of Jonah? Had he gotten a peek at her red lace bra?

"So, is there going to be a second date?"

She stood back up, and the smile that pulled at her lips told me all I needed to know. "Why? Why do you care?"

Because the thought of you seeing Jonah again is more painful than my fucking leg, which was on fire.

I shrugged casually. "We always talk about this stuff."

"No." She shook her head as she headed down the hall to her bedroom with her hands full of Winnie-treasures. Winnie trailed behind her, clearly proud of her haul, as her nails clicked on the hardwood floor. " We don't talk about this stuff. You talk about this stuff."

Yeah, I talked about it because she never dated. Until recently, that is. She'd had a few boyfriends. Three, to be exact. Greg in high school. Rudy in college. And Steve when she first started teaching. I hadn't loved any of them, but I'd never felt like my heart was being put through a meat grinder, which is how I felt now.

Maybe it was because, deep down, I knew that she couldn't actually be serious with any of them. Maybe it was because even when she was with all of them, it had never affected our relationship. Maybe I was feeling this way because, for the past few months, I'd sensed her pulling away from me.

I still hadn't been able to talk to her about what she meant when I saw her in the parking lot on Thanksgiving and asked her to watch a movie. She'd said that she didn't think we should hang out so much and started to say that she needed to make room in her life for something—I didn't catch the rest because I got called away.

I'd called her that night when I got home, but she hadn't answered. I'd tried to talk to her about it before the game, but we got interrupted again. And then, all the shit happened to my knee, and here we were.

Kenna walked back out. Her hair was piled up on top of her head in a messy bun, her face was scrubbed clean, and she was wearing her tattered gray University of Texas T-shirt and cutoff sweats.

This was my favorite Kenna. This was the Kenna that I wanted to climb into bed with and keep her there. This was the Kenna I wanted to wake up every morning to for the rest of my life. The soft, all-natural, comfy, cozy Kenna.

After she let Winnie out back to use the bathroom and filled up the Stanley water bottle that I'd given her last Christmas, I expected her to curl up in the corner of the couch and snuggle under her favorite blanket so we could watch a movie.

Instead, she stood in the doorway of the kitchen. "I'm gonna go to bed. Do you need anything?"

Go to bed? It was only ten o'clock. She's always been a night owl. It was one of the reasons she'd hated teaching—because of the early mornings. The bar schedule worked a lot better for her circadian rhythm.

"You're going to bed?"

She nodded. "I'm tired."

"It's ten o'clock."

"I didn't sleep last night. I'm just down the hall if you need me," she said before padding off to her bedroom.

As I watched her retreating form, questions filled my head. Why didn't she sleep last night? Was it because Jonah had been over here? Was that why she'd brought up me not bringing random girls here because she'd had a sleepover?

I ran my hands through my hair. I needed to stop overanalyzing everything she said and did and just speak to her. I was driving myself crazy.

I'd never been the sort of person to avoid a conversation. If there was a problem, I addressed it. I'd rather talk things out than pretend everything was fine, only to have it fester before finally blowing up. That was the pattern I'd witnessed in my house between my parents, and I promised myself I would never be like that.

So why hadn't I said anything to Kenna? Why had I just let her go to bed without asking her what was going on with her? Why hadn't I faced head-on what was going on with us?

Because I was scared that once we had that talk, everything would change. We would change. I would lose her. And if there was one thing in my life I couldn't lose…it was her.