17. Chapter 17

Chapter seventeen

“ I ’m happy with how smoothly things are going so far,” Michelle said from beside her as the elevator doors closed.

Sam had spent the better part of the morning at Michelle’s office, working on setting up the integration for their new client. And she was right. Everything was going much better than they’d anticipated.

“Yeah, me too,” Sam answered as she pulled out her phone and saw a text from Jess with the address to her apartment.

They’d planned to meet there that day to go over some more PR stuff. Although, the last meeting with Michelle had run longer than expected.

Right as she was about to type out a quick text to let her know she’d be a little late, the phone began buzzing in her hand, filled with Jess’ name on the screen.

“Hey,” she said, holding the phone up to her ear. “Sorry, I was just about to text you.”

“That’s okay,” she replied, her voice cutting in and out. “I just wanted to make sure we were still on to meet up?”

“Yeah,” Sam answered. “I was with a client, but I’m all done now.”

The phone went silent for a moment, before Jess’ broken words crackled through. “Okay—sent—did you—”

Sam glanced down at the screen as the elevator whirred on its descent.

“I have my bike, so I’m gonna ride over now,” she said, placing the phone back against her ear. “Should be there in like twenty.”

She thought she could make out Jess’ muffled, suddenly louder voice as it crackled in and out. But as the phone cut out again, she couldn’t make out what she was saying.

“I’m in an elevator, so the reception is bad,” Sam continued. “But I’ll see you in a bit.”

She ended the call and stuffed her phone into her backpack just as the elevator chimed softly at the ground floor.

When the doors slid open, she followed Michelle into the expansive lobby, where the sound of rain immediately met her ears. Sheets of water streamed down the towering floor-to-ceiling glass windows, distorting the view outside.

She frowned, adjusting the motorcycle helmet in her hands. At least her bike was in the parking garage.

“It’s really coming down,” Michelle said beside her.

“Yeah,” Sam murmured, her gaze fixed on the relentless rain. “Guess I’ll get an Uber then.”

That was one big con of being back in Seattle. The rain was an almost constant surprise.

“Where are you headed?” Michelle asked, turning to her as she pulled her keys out of her purse.

Sam relayed the cross streets of the address to Jess’ apartment.

“I’m going that way,” Michelle said. “You want a ride?”

“Are you sure?” Sam asked hesitantly. “It’s not out of your way?”

“Not at all,” Michelle replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Come on.”

Sam followed her out into the parking garage. The rhythmic sound of rain against concrete accompanied them as they climbed into Michelle’s car. The two talked easily during the drive, the conversation flowing as smoothly as the windshield wipers working overtime to clear the view ahead.

When Michelle finally pulled up to the curb outside Jess’ apartment building, Sam thanked her and hopped out.

Water splashed up around her ankles, and she raised a hand to shield her face, squinting through the downpour to read the numbers on the doors. When she finally found the one Jess had sent her, she jogged toward it, stopping beneath the small overhang to shield herself.

She knocked once, pressing herself in close to the door.

Within a moment, the door swung open, and Jess’ wide eyes and pale face stared back at her.

“Hey,” Sam said slowly, her eyebrows pulling together. “What’s wrong—”

Before she could get another word out, Jess surged forward. She threw her arms around her, pulling her into a crushing embrace.

Sam froze for a moment, confusion morphing into worry.

“What’s—”

Jess suddenly pushed her back, still keeping a firm grasp on her forearms, holding her in place.

“Why would you do that?” Jess demanded, her voice trembling with equal parts panic and anger.

“What are you—”

“Why would you ride in the rain?” Jess cut her off, her voice rising.

Sam stared at her, blinking. She knew that panicked, detached look in her eyes. The pale sheen on her skin. She knew it all too well.

“I—”

“You didn’t answer your phone,” Jess snapped, her words spilling out too fast. Her hands shook where they gripped her arms. “I tried calling—you didn’t—you didn’t pick up and—”

The crack in her voice stopped Sam cold.

Jess stuttered, her breath catching as if she couldn’t finish her thought. Sam could feel her trembling, could see the panic radiating off her in waves. That look in Jess’ eyes, the raw edge to her voice—it wasn’t anger. It was fear.

And then, finally, realization dawned on her.

“Hey,” Sam said softly as she slowly slid her arms back, taking Jess’ quivering hands in her own as she stepped past the threshold and into the apartment. “I didn’t ride here. Someone drove me since it was raining.”

Jess stared at her, eyes flicking over her face and body, as if they were still working to confirm once and for all that she really was there.

And that look alone was enough to cause a tidal wave of guilt to crash through every inch of her.

“You—” Jess shook her head slightly, blinking. “You said—” She shook her head again, the look of panic in her eyes finally waning. “And then you didn’t pick up. I—”

Sam squeezed her hands gently. “My phone was in my backpack. I didn’t know you called.”

Jess looked down, her eyes seeming to focus on where Sam held her hands.

Sam waited a moment, watching her. Then finally, she looked up, scanning the cozy apartment to find the couch nearby.

“Come on,” she said softly, leading her toward the couch and sitting them both down.

She took the helmet out from where it was still tucked beneath her arm and set it on the ground, shifting it out of sight behind the edge of the couch.

Then she released Jess’ hands to shrug the backpack off.

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she blew out a breath.

The silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity before Jess finally spoke.

“For months, after you left for MIT,” she started, just barely above a whisper, “I had nightmares that I’d get a call saying you’d been in another accident.”

A tight burn rose in Sam’s throat, but she forced herself to swallow it away.

Jess hardly even moved as she continued, “I used to check the weather in the city you were living in.” Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. “On rainy days—” she paused, blinking, as she released a breath. “I would check my phone constantly for texts from you.” She swallowed again, the muscle in her jaw flickering as she whispered, “I could hardly focus on anything else.”

The tight swell in Sam’s throat grew into a throbbing ache in her chest. She’d always known the accident affected Jess more than she really ever shared or let on. But she’d never imagined how much.

“I’m sorry,” Sam whispered, hating how inadequate the words felt.

Jess released a breath, leaning back into the couch as she ran a hand through her hair. She turned, her eyes drifting to the water-streaked window. She stared at it for a long moment.

“Even now,” she continued, “all these years later, every time it rains, I still think of you.”

Sam tightened her grip on the arm of the couch, resisting the urge to take her hand—to hug her—to hold her. To do anything that would take even a fraction of that pain and worry away.

Jess’ eyes flicked back down to her lap, where her hands had begun to fidget. “I thought—” She paused, shaking her head slightly as she cleared her throat. “I thought it would get better after we stopped talking. Before—I mean.” She shook her head again, this time seemingly more out of frustration. “And it did. Eventually.” She released a deep sigh. “But it never went away.”

Sam swallowed, watching the way her eyes glazed over with wetness. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jess shook her head. “Why would I?” she breathed, wiping a hand across the edge of her face where the wetness had spilled down her cheek. “It wouldn’t have changed anything.”

Sam’s jaw clenched as she looked away. “I could’ve helped. I could’ve—”

“You could’ve what?” Jess asked, her voice full of exasperation. “We both know you weren’t gonna stop.”

Was that true? Maybe. Or maybe not. She wasn’t sure.

Riding had some hold on her. An ability to take her mind and free it from torment. No matter how hard things got, the second the whipping wind hit her face, it all fell away. She couldn’t focus on anything but the ride—the road, the turns, the sounds, all of it.

The first time she’d ridden was unforgettable. The sudden sense of freedom—of control. It was something she’d never felt before. And something she never wanted to lose.

And that feeling never changed. It never went away.

Even after the accident.

Even when she wished it would.

“I knew how important it was to you,” Jess whispered. “Even if I didn’t understand it.” She swallowed, turning to meet her gaze. “I wasn’t going to guilt you into giving that up.”

Sam loosed a breath, running a hand down her face. “I’m sorry. I—I don’t know what else to say.”

Jess nodded, a sad, defeated look filling her features. Then she stood from the couch.

“It’s fine,” she said, stepping around it toward the small kitchen area as she wiped another hand over her cheek. “Let’s just forget it. We have stuff to go over.”

Sam stood, following her to where she’d gone to her bag, where it sat on a circular white kitchen table.

“I can’t—” she said quickly, stepping up beside her as she shuffled through her bag. “I can’t just forget that and move on.”

Jess sniffled, wiping a hand across her nose as she rifled through papers and folders in her bag.

“Jess,” Sam said, reaching forward to stop her hand.

Jess paused, her eyes flicking down to where Sam’s hand rested on hers.

“I’m sorry,” Sam rushed, anxiety flitting through her bones. “I—I want to help. I want to fix this.”

Jess turned toward her, releasing an exasperated huff. “I said it’s fine—”

“It’s not fine,” Sam cut in, the anxiety spilling out from the cut Jess’ frustrated tone left in her chest. She couldn’t handle that. She couldn’t handle Jess being upset with her. Not when she knew it was her fault.

Jess’ phone buzzed where it sat on the table in front of them, but she didn’t so much as glance in its direction.

“I don’t know what you want. Just tell me what you want me to say.” The words scrambled out of her in a frantic frenzy as her brain searched for a solution. Anything that would make Jess okay. Anything that would make things between them okay again. “Tell me what you want—”

“I want to stop worrying about you!” Jess snapped. She whipped her head up, eyes blazing as they locked onto Sam’s. “I want to stop feeling crazy for still thinking about you every time I hear a motorcycle go by, or I watch a show with some software engineer in it. I want to stop wondering if it’s you every time Scarlett laughs at a text on her phone.” Exasperation filled every inch of her features. Like just saying the words out loud was a heartbreaking task. “Fuck, Sam, after all these years, I just want you to give me a reason to stop loving you!”

The swirling thoughts in her mind came to an abrupt halt.

Sam blinked, staring at the mix of intense frustration and despair in Jess’ eyes.

The phone began buzzing again, and it was the only thing that pulled her from the circling thought. But again, Jess was either completely oblivious or choosing to ignore it.

Sam swallowed, the words turning over in her mind.

Jess glanced away, shaking her head slightly. “You broke my heart four years ago.”

A tight twinge of pain crossed through Sam’s chest.

“And I know nothing’s changed,” Jess scoffed. “I’m not stupid. You’re the same person you were then. You want the same things. I know there’s nothing that can work between us.” She swallowed, shaking her head as she glanced down at their hands together. “But still, even knowing that—even with everything that’s happened—all I can think about right now is how you’re holding my hand.” Jess squeezed her eyes shut, releasing a breath. “And how terrible it feels to not want you to let go.”

Sam looked down at where their hands stayed intertwined.

She’d felt it too. The same want—the same need —to be touching her. Like letting go would break something inside her.

Something that could never be fixed.

“I don’t want to let go,” Sam whispered.

She looked back up at Jess, whose lips parted slightly as her eyes widened with a mix of surprise and—something else.

Jess shifted, their faces becoming dangerously close. Closer than any friends would be.

Every muscle in Sam’s body stilled as Jess raised a slow, careful hand up to cup the side of her neck.

Then, ever so slowly, she ran her fingers a few inches up into her hairline before dragging them back down.

Sam’s eyes fluttered closed as she leaned just a fraction into the soothing touch.

And even though she knew she needed to pull back—that the reasons they’d ended the last time hadn’t changed—it felt impossible in that moment. Like Jess was the magnet that pulled her in, no matter how far apart they were.

She released a tight breath, opening her eyes. And Jess was watching her, anguish etched throughout her soft features. But behind it was pure, unrelenting want .

Want that Sam had seen in her many times before. More than she could ever possibly count.

Although, she’d wondered if she’d ever be lucky enough to see it again in her lifetime.

“I know I shouldn’t,” Jess whispered, the words barely escaping her lips, “but if I don’t kiss you right now—” Sam swallowed, her pulse instantly sprinting through her body. “I think I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”

Sam released a shaky breath, waiting with more anticipation than she’d ever felt before.

Jess’ eyes flicked over her face, as if searching for some answer to an unspoken question. But Sam couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t wait another second.

She tilted her head in, obliterating the short distance between them to kiss her.

Jess’ hand cupped the side of her face, fingers trembling ever so slightly against her skin. There was hesitation, a softness that belied the hunger building between them, but it only made Sam want her more.

She deepened the kiss, pulling Jess closer, their bodies colliding like the answer to a question neither of them had dared ask.

It was heat. It was electricity. It was everything she didn’t know she needed until that moment.

Sam’s hands drifted to Jess’ waist, gripping her like the kiss might be torn from them before it had truly begun. But Jess didn’t pull away.

A soft sound escaped Jess. Something between a gasp and a sigh that went directly to her core. She pressed Jess back against the countertop, their lips never once breaking.

But something flickered in her chest, a warning that she couldn’t ignore.

Sam pulled back, even though everything in her body screamed not to.

“Are—” she started breathlessly. “Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean—”

“Do you want this?” Jess asked, her face just an inch away.

Sam swallowed, taking in the dark, heated look in her eyes. “What about—”

“Right now,” Jess whispered, leaning forward to rest her forehead against Sam’s. “In this moment. Is this what you want?”

Sam’s eyes slid closed, the feeling of Jess so close it bordered on intoxicating.If it were ever possible to be drunk off a person, Jess would be her drink of choice.

She nodded. And the second she did, Jess’ lips surged against hers once again.

Jess slid a hand up around her shoulder and onto the back of her neck, holding her close. Then she slipped her tongue into her mouth as Sam turned her, pinning her body.

Jess’ other hand dipped beneath the hem of her shirt, sliding up her bare back. And when it came back down, her nails dragged along her skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

When they reached her lower back, a surge of heat moved through her core, settling into a pulsing center below her waistband.

Her hips twitched forward automatically, moving entirely on their own as they reacted to her touch.

The corners of Jess’ mouth moved upward against her lips in a smirk. She knew her body better than anyone. Like a programming language that only Jess had learned. She’d mastered every input to get the reactions she wanted.

And Sam knew how much she loved proving it.

Jess slowed the kiss slightly as she dipped the tips of her fingers below the back of her jeans, letting her nails trail downward ever so gently.

Sam barely stopped her hips from moving forward. But she couldn’t stop the moan that whimpered past her lips.

Jess released a ragged breath, ripping Sam’s hips toward her own with sudden urgency.

A loud knock suddenly pounded against the door, and Sam flinched as Jess froze, jumping back.

Sam looked at the door, then back at Jess. And before she could say anything, Jess pulled back entirely, her warm hands sliding away and leaving cold shadows in their place.

She crossed the short distance to the door, then leaned both hands against it, checking through the peephole.

Jess sighed, leaning back. “It’s Scar,” she muttered, running a hand through her slightly ruffled hair.

Sam stepped back, turning toward the door as she pulled the hem of her shirt back down and adjusted the top of her pants back into place.

Jess threw her one quick glance before pulling the door open.

Scarlett stood on the other side, not looking up as she typed something out on her phone.

“Hey,” Jess muttered, before reaching a hand down to adjust her own shirt.

Scarlett finally glanced up from her phone, a smirk curling her lips as her eyes flicked between Jess and Sam. “Am I interrupting something?”

Jess forced a laugh, smoothing down her hair with one hand. “No, of course not,” she said quickly, stepping aside to let Scarlett in.

Scarlett raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but she didn’t push it. Instead, she made a beeline for the fridge, yanking it open like it was her own. “Right,” she drawled. She grabbed a sparkling water, cracking it open and taking a long sip. “You weren’t answering your phone. I had to come get my charger. I left it in your bag on the trip.”

Jess frowned, shooting a quick glance at Sam. “Yeah, sorry, I meant to give it back to you yesterday,” she muttered. “It’s in my room. I’ll go get it.”

As Jess disappeared down the hallway, Scarlett leaned against the counter, taking another sip from the can as she studied Sam. “I’m glad you’re here, actually,” she said, releasing a deep sigh. “I need to vent about the wedding catering situation. It’s a total nightmare.”

Sam’s pulse was still pounding in her ears, the remnants of the moment they’d just shared hanging heavy in the air. “What happened?”

Scarlett rolled her eyes. “The caterer decided to change the menu last minute,” she said, letting out a huff of frustration. “Apparently, they can’t source the seafood we picked. Now they want to substitute it with some fancy vegetarian option, but Terrence is freaking out because half his family is expecting crab cakes.”

Sam forced a chuckle, stepping closer to the counter. “What are you gonna do?” she asked, hoping her voice didn’t sound as shaky as it felt.

Scarlett sighed, taking another swig of the sparkling water. “No clue,” she muttered. “I need to figure it out today, though. I’m this close to just saying fuck it and ordering pizza.”

Sam cracked a grin at that, but her mind was only half on the conversation. She could still feel the ghost of Jess’ touch, the heat of her body pressed against her own. And now, the sudden shift back to reality was like being doused with a cold bucket of water.

Jess reappeared, holding the charger in one hand. Her expression was carefully neutral, but Sam could see the tension in the tight set of her jaw.

“Here,” Jess said, holding it out.

Scarlett took it, shoving it into her bag without another glance. “Thanks,” she said. “Okay, I need you to help me handle this catering mess before Terrence has a meltdown.”

Jess shot Sam a quick glance before looking away. And she couldn’t tell if it was disappointment or relief in her eyes.

But either way, Sam knew the interruption was for the best. Even if everything in her body screamed the opposite, continuing what they’d started would’ve been a bad idea.

It was opening the door for a mess of unspoken feelings and who knows what else.

It wasn’t something that could happen. And if it did, it definitely shouldn’t just be on a whim of high emotion.They had too much history for that. Too many old feelings mixed in to make it casual.

“Okay,” Jess said, moving to stand beside Scarlett. “Let’s figure this out.”

Sam nodded, stepping in closer as the three of them leaned over the counter. But even as they dove into a discussion about the wedding menu, she couldn’t shake the feelings still coursing within her. And when she caught Jess’s eye across the counter, she saw the same raw, unspoken tension reflected back.

Whatever happened wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.