16. Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

Rory

I knock on the door at twelve o'clock. I was so eager this morning to have something to do that I woke up at too-early o'clock and cleaned before getting ready to go out. It was still early, so I had a coffee at the café near Samuel's place, and then when the time was right, I ordered what I needed to finally be at his door.

I'm still not sure he was happy with the arrangement, and I was waiting for a text to tell me not to come. I was ecstatic when it didn't happen.

Now I'm here waiting for him to open the door and let me in.

I hear some noises and then after a while the door finally opens, and oh my days, my jaw drops at the sight of him. Bed hair, sleepy eyes, and a very naked upper body. All those muscles are on display for me to enjoy and salivate over.

"Hey." His husky voice makes me shiver.

"Hey," I rasp out, still trying to get a hold of myself. "Do you want me to come back later so you can get dressed?" I say, while indicating his naked chest.

I shouldn't be as affected as I am by him. But there is nothing I can do when my body seems to have a mind of its own.

He looks down at his chest and then shakes his head as if realising he opened the door in a dishevelled state.

"No, please come in. I'll go put something on."

When I enter the room, I'm surprised at how well kept and clean everything is. Not like my apartment, essentially abandoned since the accident, because I couldn't care less about anything when John wasn't there with me.

I follow him through the foyer, then into the living room, and study the small desk with a pile of documents I hope are what I think they are—John's next organ recipient.

"Sorry for the mess. Since the accident, I haven't been able to take care of anything."

"It's okay. Certainly better than my place," I babble, without even thinking of what I'm saying. And then I'm not able to stop my face going red as a tomato.

He smiles—a gentle smile that feels like a caress, like an everything-is-fine smile—and I settle down, as if he flipped a switch inside me.

He walks me to the kitchen, and my brain starts working again.

"I brought coffee and breakfast."

"Thank you. I'll get changed and be back soon."

He walks away and I sit on the sofa, trying to place everything on the small table next to it, but it's full of documents. I push them to one side, trying not to look at what's written, and once I make a space big enough to place everything there, that's what I do.

My eye falls on a page and I recognise John's name, and my curiosity can't be stopped. Breakfast and coffee are forgotten while I read whatever is in my hand. Tears are trickling out and wetting my face while I read John's medical information.

The document is pulled out of my hands, and I follow it with my body until I'm looking at Samuel. A fully dressed Samuel. His face is a not-very-happy one.

"You shouldn't put your nose in other people's stuff."

"But that's about John, so I have the right to read them."

"If you had the right, we wouldn't be here breaking the law."

And that's what shuts me up and makes me angry at the same time.

"There's no point in reminding me. And while I'm very grateful for what you're doing, I'm not happy that you're keeping secrets."

"I'm not. But there is no point in you reading something that's not getting you closer to what you want, and only serves to upset you. Trust me." His speech ends with a sweet note in his tone, one that soothes my nerves and defuses my anger.

"It's just . . ."

"I know, and I'll give that to you, but you have to trust me."

"I do." The words coming so easily out of my mouth surprise me as much as they surprise him. The truth behind them is something I've never had. It took me more than a year to trust John.

What is there about Samuel that's bringing down the walls I've built to protect myself?

He seems to understand I'm experiencing a moment of discovery, and to help soften the mood, he changes the subject.

"So . . . you said coffee and breakfast."

At that moment his stomach rumbles, and I find myself chuckling like I haven't done in a while.

I pick up the coffee from the table and pass it to him.

"Can I have sugar?" I'm surprised, because he doesn't seem like someone with a sweet tooth.

I pass it to him and watch as he puts two sugars into his coffee, stirs for a while, and then takes a sip. His Adam's apple goes up and down while he swallows, which has my very dormant cock up in a second, a gasp nearly breaking free. I use the bag I have in my hand to cover up my lap, praying for my dick to go down, and my brain to start thinking.

Later I will analyse the fact that, after two years, I just got hard for a man who's not John.

I'm intimidated to be sitting here with Samuel, after a week in which I've done nothing but think about the poor behaviour I displayed, and how I broke down in front of him.

I take a few breaths, but avoid looking at Samuel. When I'm sure my hard cock has gone down, I busy myself with giving him his croissant. To avoid another incident, I focus on my food and coffee. When we're both done, I glance at him, only to find him already looking at me, but he avoids my eyes, instead standing up to throw everything away.

When he's back, he sits next to me, picking up the pile of documents I moved away for breakfast.

"I met with a friend yesterday and he was able to find all this information. They couldn't work on them, so we will have to do our own legwork."

I nod when he looks at me. I'm ready to do everything I can to help.

"I noticed yesterday that there are some discrepancies, with places and people, so if we go through all the documents, we should be able to find the recipient."

"Do we know what they received?"

"Lungs."

I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. He gave someone else a chance to breathe again. I shake my head because I can't get caught in these kinds of thoughts, because if I do, I won't be able to help Samuel. To help myself.

"What are these discrepancies you've noticed?"

"So, I looked at the name and the info provided, and I noticed that one particular person could have been a match, he'd already be moved to another hospital before John arrived there," he says, picking up a sheet and moving it closer to me.

"Couldn't it be that they move the organs to the same hospital that person was moved to?" His eyes are on me as if I did something I'm not aware of.

"I like the way you think. It could have been a possibility, but I have already checked. The guy was discharged from the hospital and wasn't called back in."

"So, it must be someone else," we say at the same time.

"Yes, it must be," he says, as if he wants to confirm it for himself as well.

"So, what I want to do is to go through every piece of paper like I did for that name until, hopefully, we'll be left with only one person."

"How many names do we have left?"

"Eight. If we divide them between us, then it will take less time to go through them," Samuel says, and it makes sense.

I nod, but uncertainty fills me. What if what's in there is going to break me?

"I don't want to force you to do anything. I can go through these documents myself."

"No. I want to help. I want to do something as well." I'm tired of crying and waiting for someone else to give me what I need.

He looks at me as if trying to determine if I'm lying to him, and I squirm a bit under his serious gaze.

"Okay. Give me a minute to sort everything out and we can start with the first two."

I force myself to look everywhere but at him while he does what he needs to do, but I can't stop my eyes from going back to him. His muscles shifting, the way he bites his lower lip when concentrating, his long lashes, and that strong jaw.

"Here," he says, handing me something.

I keep looking at him, enchanted, until he waves the papers in front of my face, breaking the spell.

"Thank you," I say, taking them from his hands.

He quickly explains how I should check the documents and then we go to work.

I don't see John's name anywhere and I'm happy about it. I'm not sure I would have been able to maintain my composure if what happened to him was mentioned repeatedly. I concentrate on matching the details to the night John died. I check everything because I don't want to miss a single detail.

While I work, I drink my coffee, that has magically appeared in front of me, and I try not to look at him.

Page after page, I read all the info, and when I finish the last one, I look around and the room is much darker than before. I glance at my clock and it's nearly five p.m. I search for Samuel and he's sitting in the same spot, and still working on the pile of paper in front of him.

I stir and my stomach rumbles. Samuel turns his head towards me and blinks a few times, as if coming out of a dream.

"Let's have a coffee and I'll check if I have anything edible." He rises from his chair and walks to the fridge, but before he can reach it, there's a knock at the door.

Samuel turns around and walks out. I wait until I hear the door open, and then a chorus of hellos.

I don't move, but I listen to whatever is happening outside.

"Hey man," someone says, and then is followed by other voices saying more or less the same things.

"Hey guys. What are you doing here?"

"Trying to get in," a shrill voice says.

"Martin," Samuel's voice takes a note I've never heard before, and that makes me kind of jealous, because it speaks of a deep connection. No one has ever used that tone with me, before or after John.

I'm up and walking towards those voices before I can even think about what I'm doing. I watch Samuel hug a redhead until a man nearly as muscled as Samuel, and close to my height, pulls him away and then kisses the smaller man as if making a claim. The others holler for them to stop and get a room.

I watch, my jealousy gone, and it morphs into a feeling of envy for the friends he has and for how lonely I am. When I lost John, I lost everything.

"Who's that?" the redhead asks, pointing at me. The man who just kissed him pushes his hand down and whispers something in his ear.

Samuel turns and looks at me, as if remembering he's not alone and I'm still here with him.

"That's Rory."

"Hi Rory," they say again.

"Hi," I say, but I wish a crater would open and engulf me. I'm not that lucky, though.

Martin is the first to reach out.

"I'm Martin," he says, pointing at himself, and then he turns around.

"Keegan," Martin says, pointing at the man who was kissing him. "Mark and Zane," he says, moving to an older man, and the young guy plastered to his back. A couple, I guess.

Oh, and the look in Zane's eyes makes me wish I had someone who would look at me just like that. My eyes seek Samuel, but he's talking with a blond guy.

Why did my gaze go to Samuel? Do I want Samuel to be that person? The questions invade my brain . . . No . . .

Am I lying? Me, the person who never does?

"Then behind them, Jordan. Mark's little brother. And this is Trevor," Martin continues, pointing to the dark-haired man smiling towards us.

Then he moves to the blond man now patting Samuel's shoulder, and my gaze zeroes in on the touch, and I barely listen to Martin's introduction.

"This is Jason," Martin says, and the guy turns towards me and smiles, but my gaze is on the spot where his hand still rests on Samuel's shoulder.

When everyone goes silent, Jason slowly takes his hand away, and I'm fully back in the room, realising everyone is looking at me.

"I should go," I say, conscious of my behaviour and the fact that I don't really know anyone here. Even Samuel, who I met just a few weeks ago, is someone I don't really know. But he's someone I'm trying to claim as mine, at least in my head.

Am I so love starved I can mistake pity for something more?

Fuck! I really need to go. I mentally check if I have everything on me, and then I walk to the door. "Thank you for today. Let me know when you want to meet again. Nice to meet you guys." I don't look at anyone or anything, and I keep my focus on the door, on the lifeline the door represents right now.

Once I'm at home, I'll think really hard about what I'm doing. About the feelings growing inside me for the man who's only trying to help.

"Hey, wait." Samuel's voice penetrates my brain, as if I'm already attuned to it. This is bad, and it feels like I'm forgetting John because I've found someone else who's gentle enough not to make me feel like I'm garbage.

"Don't worry. You have guests, so take care of them," I say, finding the courage to look him in the eye. I freeze when his hand grips my wrist and stops me from walking out.

"Stay," he says, pulling me backwards.

I glance at everyone, and they're looking at us like we're the next best show in town.

"Yes, stay," Jason says, when he sees Samuel's not letting me go.

And I probably look like a spooked animal.

I glance at Samuel, and he's still looking at me. There is something there, something I can grasp.

Is that a pleading look in his eyes?

That thought has me taking a few steps back into the room, and Samuel's expression relaxes just a tad.

"Have you got any tea in this house?" Martin's voice breaks the awkward moment.

"You know very well that's the only thing I have in this house," Samuel says while walking towards Martin, bringing me in tow because his hand is still around my wrist.

I go willingly because I don't want him to let me go.

John, can I forget for a moment? Can I, for a moment, just one moment, live, instead of stagnating?

My eyes are watering, and I try to blink them back away, because this is not the right time or place to have a breakdown because you are cheating on your dead boyfriend.

I bump into someone, and Samuel's hand is gone, and the loss is an echo inside of me. But then arms are encircling me, pulling me against a broad chest. And, after, Samuel's voice in my ear, but I can't hear anything over the sound of my blood rushing.

"Are you okay?" His breath washes over my face, flooring me to the moment, and I grip him as if I need to be saved.

"I'm okay," I reply after a few moments.

The room is silent when I finally return to it. I look around and everyone but Jason is sitting on the sofa. Even though we're so close to them, it feels like we're alone because no one is looking at us, no one is prying at this moment.

We hear movement in the kitchen, and we move over there to find Jason cleaning up the table while trying to keep things as we left it.

"Sorry to have invaded like this," he says.

"You never do. I'm always happy to have you around," Samuel replies with a smile.

There are so many facets to him, and it feels like I witness something new every time. Today there is a gentleness that is hidden behind a wall most of the time, and I like it. It's as though he's trying to be someone he's not.

Why?

"Let me get this out of the way," Samuel says, taking the pile of documents away. He walks out of the kitchen, leaving me with a very curious man—if I'm correctly interpreting the pointed look he's giving me.

"Who are you?" The gentleness he had a moment ago with Samuel has left. Now, the worried friend has made an appearance.

Unless they are more than friends.

"Are you an item?" The question coming out of my mouth surprises us both.

Jason is the first to recover, and his laugh is loud and genuine. The sound has relief spreading through me like oil. That's until I hear footsteps—a lot of them—coming towards the kitchen.

"Please . . ." I say to him, and his gaze takes the same gentle look Samuel had earlier.

"What's happening?" Martin asks.

This guy seems to be the one meddling in everyone's affairs. Mark and Zane are at the door; they seem to be attached at the hip and look so in love. Same as Martin and Keegan. The taller man doesn't seem capable of leaving the smaller man alone. They all look so good together. The room is full of love.

"Nothing much. Just having a bit of a conversation with Rory here."

"Why were you laughing?" This time the question is coming from Samuel, his face blank, and his gaze serious.

I stare at Jason, afraid he'll share what I just asked with everyone. Panic is setting in because I don't know these people and don't want to lose Samuel—or for Samuel to know. I'm not even going to investigate the reasons behind this fear. I'll settle for the chance of finding and saying goodbye to John.

Jason looks at me and then smiles, another gentle smile that gives me hope but doesn't settle my nerves. What's he going to say to them? My mind is blank and if they were asking me something right now, I wouldn't be able to lie . . . Not that I would be able to in any other situation.

I refuse to lie. I've been lied to my entire life and I can't even fathom doing something like that to others. Most of the problems John and I had came from my need to always speak the truth. But sometimes the truth is not what people want or are willing to listen to.

I glance at Samuel, and he's looking at me. I avoid his gaze, ashamed of what I asked, of having asked someone else and not him.

"I asked him why he was here, and he told me to mind my own business. So difficult to meddle in other people's business these days. I should take lessons from Martin. He does it so well or he really doesn't understand when he should stop." After the blow, Jason sends a wink his way and everyone laughs.

I mouth a ‘thank you,' because I would have been ashamed if he had shared my stupid question with everyone else. I glance at Samuel, and his gaze moves between me and Jason, as if trying to determine if what he said was true.

"Stop telling me off. You're just as bad as me. The only difference is you're better. But your CFO training counts in these situations," Martin says, making everyone laugh.

I join in because he's right. Jason didn't even have to ask anything for me to spill about where my feelings for Samuel are going. I'm only glad he wasn't there to witness it.

"Okay, who wants a tea, or a coffee?" Jason asks, trying to defuse the situation.

A chorus of ‘coffee for me' or ‘tea for me' fills the room, and I join in with a coffee request followed by Samuel's.

My stomach chooses that moment to rumble again, and I blush under the eyes of everyone when they turn on me.

"Didn't you feed your guest?" Jason asks Samuel, and he blushes under the not-so-veiled accusation.

"We were doing other things."

"Oh, do tell," Martin and Jason say at the same time, then look at each other and laugh out loud.

"Nothing to tell," Samuel says to both of them, but his cheeks get red again and everyone hollers as if they caught him red-handed.

"Aww, he's blushing." This time it comes from Keegan.

Everyone looks at him as if he's gone crazy. He laughs and pulls Martin against his chest.

"What? I was only stating the truth." And then he looks down at the man in his arms and winks at him.

Martin turns around in his arms, goes up on tiptoes, and plants a heated kiss on his lips.

"Oh, come on. Get a room." Everyone says to them.

Mark blushes and Zane pulls him close, then leans in and whispers something, making the older man go red like a tomato. No one seems to notice but me, and I move my gaze away, wanting to give them privacy. My eyes, as if possessing a will of their own, once again land on Samuel. This time, when our eyes lock, I don't look away.

"What are we having for dinner?" Jason asks.

"P—" Samuel tries to say, but Jason stops him before he can finish.

"No pizza," Jason says, with a look of disdain in Samuel's direction. "You need to do something about this craving of yours. Maybe it's time for you to deliver the baby." Laughter fills the room and I relax.

I really enjoy the banter between these men. Anyone can see how much they love each other from a mile away.

"Chinese?" Mark says, talking for the first time. His face is back to normal, but I smirk when I notice Zane has been pushed away, and he's now leaning against the doorframe.

"Yes. Finally, someone with a good idea."

"I wouldn't mind pizza," I say out of nowhere, and every eye in the room turns to me.

"Of course you want that, darling. After doing something with Samuel, you must be craving as well," Martin says.

Everyone looks at him, stunned, and even his supportive boyfriend looks at him as if he's lost his mind.

I laugh, and it's loud and genuine. "If I had done it with Samuel, you'd still be waiting at the door." And then I wink at him.

The noise in the room reaches a new high, with everyone taking the piss out of Martin for his failed attempt to make a joke.

I watch how they tell each other off, but there's always love. They are never nasty, and it's very refreshing.

A scent, the mix of sandalwood and white musk that I've started recognising, envelops me, and I breathe in without thinking, just to stop when Samuel's voice purrs in my ear. And I nearly scratch it to make the sensation disappear.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," I say, nodding, and my hair brushes against Samuel's stubble. That reminds me even more of how manly he is, and how long it's been since I've been with someone.

You can't do that with him.

Of course, I can't. If things go bad, then I won't have anyone helping me find John.

"Don't mind Martin. He has a big mouth, but he's harmless."

"He's nice. All of them are." I hear the longing in my voice, and I wish I could stop feeling this way. Feeling so much.

"Let's join them. What would you like to drink?"

"I'll have a coffee and then I'll leave so you can spend time with them."

"Stay."

That word does something to me I'm not prepared for, and it really makes me want to stay—and never leave.

"I better l—" But I don't get to finish, because he talks again, cutting me off.

"Please. We need a break, and they are a great bunch of people."

"Okay," I concede. And then to break the heavy moment. "But I really need to eat, and pizza does sound great."

"Oh, come on. Not you as well," a voice sounds behind us.

Samuel and I turn around to find Jason, arms crossed, and a puppy dog look on his face. We look at each other and laugh. He's ridiculous, and I'm also grateful because he pulls me away from the thoughts in my mind.

"Okay, we can have something else," Samuel says to him, and his smile is blinding.

"Guys, we can have what I want," he says to the other people, who have left to sit in the living room.

"No Chinese," someone says, but I'm unsure who.

I'm still here in the kitchen with Samuel, so close I'm immersed in his body heat.

"Let's go," he says, and places a hand on the lower part of my back and my body goes crazy with the zings and sparks affecting every nerve.

I take a step forward to avoid his touch, so I don't moan out loud, but I miss his heat immediately. I'm glad when his hand follows me until it rests there again.

We sit on the sofa, close together, and I let the others do the talking and enjoy the banter while they decide what to eat.

The rest of the evening is spent between eating and chatting, and I'm amazed by how comfortable I am with these people.

I make the most of it, like I do of having Samuel close. Not sure if it's because I'm new in the group, or because he's afraid of me telling everyone what he's doing. I don't even consider him wanting to be near me for more personal reasons. I'm just happy to have him close. I like how he jumps in and out of conversations, always ready to save me if I get too silent, either because I don't know what to say or because I'm not ready to open up.

As the hours pass and the atmosphere gets more relaxed, my connection with Samuel increases. Small touches, our bodies getting closer and closer on the sofa, and his leg against mine, making me want more and more.

I try to keep my head straight, but his continued presence and scent are driving me crazy. I'd like to let go and do something about whatever there is between us, but there's always the fear of ruining my chance to find John, and maybe burning a great friendship when all this is done.

When it's time for everyone to go, I stand as well, but Samuel leans in and my idea about leaving with everyone disappears, even before he talks.

"Don't leave yet." His whisper is so close to my ear that his breath caresses my skin, sending shivers up and down my body.

I sit down again and wave at the others.

I watch him saying his goodbyes and witness Martin pulling Samuel into a tight hug, while Keegan watches over him. I even hear the conversation, because if there is one thing I've learnt today, it's that Martin can't do anything quietly. But his personality goes in tandem with the silent man always so close to him.

The same happens between Jason and Samuel after the others have left. I don't get to overhear what they're talking about, and they don't even glance at me. I'm surprised when Samuel pulls him into a hug and keeps him close for a bit. Jason never complains.

I watch their faces when they pull apart, but there's nothing strange. It's probably just my imagination playing with me.

They exchange a couple more words before Jason waves in my direction, and he's gone.

The click when Samuel closes the door is loud in the now-empty room, making me aware even more that we're alone. And the questions I pushed away all evening fill my mind.

What am I doing here? Why am I feeling like this about him? Should I follow what my mind is telling me? Or should I follow what my body feels when I'm next to him? Is he feeling the same as me?

I don't even hear Samuel coming back to sit next to me on the sofa until his finger gets under my chin to raise my head, and I'm looking him straight in the eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asks, while his fingers caress my jaw.

"Yeah." But I don't move a muscle because I don't want him to stop.

"I'm sorry about them invading my place." He continues speaking, caressing me.

Without thinking, I move closer, and he does the same.

"It's okay. They're nice people." But I'm not really thinking about them anymore. My eyes are moving from his eyes to his lips, which seem to be slowly getting closer and closer.

I hold my breath, both fearing and welcoming his touch and his kiss, but when our lips lock, the sensations are beyond whatever I was expecting, and so overwhelming that a loud moan escapes.

He moans a reply to mine, and it makes us even more frantic. I open under his insistent lips and when our tongues touch in a dance of passion, whatever is left of my brain flies out the window, and what remains is only the need to know more about him.

When I find myself with my back flat on the sofa, I don't fight it, instead I welcome his weight and his tantalising touch.

My brain focuses on a loop of wanting more and more.

The reasons we shouldn't be doing this are gone from my brain.