“Lucas didn’t do anything,” I protest, feeling bad for dragging him into this mess. “I didn’t even know the boy who—”
“It doesn’t matter. It happened at his party, which makes him responsible. The guy was probably one of his friends,” Sam replies, his voice dark. “In my book that’s just as bad.” He gives me a tight smile. “But you’re okay. Let’s just leave it at that.”
We drive the rest of the way back to the hotel in silence. Sam’s knuckles white, his eyes narrowed as he glares out of the windshield like he clearly hasn’t let things go. I take in steady breaths, touching my forehead again as he pulls up out front of my room. I need him to focus on me again and forget about stupid Lucas and the party.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asks with genuine concern. “I’m sorry if I upset you.”
“It’s okay,” I whisper, my hands shaking. “And you’re right, I shouldn’t have been so stupid—”
“This wasn’t your fault,” Sam assures me. “I just hate the thought of what could have happened…”
He gets out of the car and walks around to my door. I let him help me out and lead me over to my hotel room, aware he’s still holding my hand. I glance up at him, my eyes wide and helpless.
“Can you come inside with me?” I whisper, biting my lip. “I just…I still feel a little shaken. I would feel a lot better if I had someone I trusted around right now.”
Sam hesitates, but he nods. “Whatever you need, Chloe.”
I smile up at him. “You’re a lifesaver, Mr. Reed.”
CHAPTER9
SAM
Fuck, I’m so stupid.
Coming inside her place, even to comfort her, is such a bad idea. Especially after picking her up, apparently drugged, from a party. I should’ve taken her to a hospital or a shelter, oranywhereelse. Not a hotel room that is paid for under my name. There’s no way that we weren’t seen leaving that party together, and now my car is parked out the front of the fucking hotel room she’s been staying in under my name.
What if someone saw us together?
I know better than anyone how these rumours spread like wildfire around school. I’m going to get my ass canned if I keep pulling stupid shit like this. But none of that matters because I want to protect her. Ihaveto protect her. I have an insatiable need to do whatever I have to in order to keep her safe. I’m drawn to her in a way I can’t explain, like a moth to a flame, not even the fear of getting burned is enough to keep me away. What’s worse is that I want to keep her safe and fuck her senseless all at once. I’m finding it increasingly hard to control myself around her and she damn well knows it. More than that, I think shethriveson it.
“Do you want a drink? A soda this time, I promise,” she adds at my raised eyebrows.
I hesitate, then nod. “Sure. Thanks.”
One drink isn’t going to hurt. I’ll stay until I’m sure she’s okay and then I’ll leave. Her face brightens, and she gets to her feet and moves over to the fridge, returning a few seconds later with two glasses of Coke. She hands me one and sits down, looking at me sheepishly.
“I feel like I owe you an explanation,” she says out of nowhere.
“I already told you—”
“Not about tonight,” she cuts in, her eyes downcast. “I mean about me in general. I know I can be difficult to read sometimes.”
“You don’t have to tell me anything,” I tell her.
As much as I want her to open up and talk to me, I don’t want it to be because she feels like she has to. I want her to trust me, to let me in so I can try to help her.
Help her how exactly?
She nods. “I know, but I want to.”
My fingers twitch as I watch her stare down at her hands. I feel the urge to put a little less distance between us, but I don’t. It’s bad enough that I’m here at all. Ican’tlet this go any further.
“The reason I don’t like to talk about my past is because it’s too painful.” She sucks in a breath, staring intently at the drink in her hand, her hair falling forward around her face. “I lost my family in a fire when I was little.” She lets out a little shuddering breath and it’s all I can do not to lean in and pull her close. “God, I still remember waking up and all I could smell was smoke. It was so hot, which was weird, my dad didn’t like the house to be hot. And the noise, the crackling, the smell of burning flesh…”
She stops a moment, focused on her drink. The urge to comfort her overwhelms me. I want to wrap her in my arms and tell her she’s safe, but I’m not about to cross that line. I want to tell her I’m sorry for what she went through, that I wish I could take her pain away, but I can’t. I can’t let myself get too close. I shouldn’t be here at all, but if she’s telling me this, maybe she finally trusts me and maybe I can finally get her the help she needs.
“I barely made it out alive,” she continues. Her eyes shimmer with tears and she glances away as if ashamed of her vulnerability or sadness. “My older brother…” She sucks in a deep breath. “He saved me. He’s all I have left. I lost my youngest brother, my sister, my mother, and my father that night, in the blink of an eye.”