Damn it! Stop ogling the hot, suicidal man!
I flipped my gaze back to the water. “Your hand looks better tonight.”
He paused just before he got the cigarette to his mouth. “You noticed? I was worried you were gonna stop checking me out after you drove off with another man last night,” he said roughly, causing me to swing my head to face him. “Is he the one who gave you the bruises?”
Ugh!
“What? No! Besides, I told you there is no him. I fell down the stairs.”
“Whatever.” He brushed my honest answer off, but thankfully, his attitude also seemed to disappear. “So, you feeling better tonight?”
“Actually, yes. Now, let me see your hand.”
He twisted his lips, but he lifted it for me to inspect his cut.
“What’d you do?”
“Splintered it on a guitar.”
Now that perked my attention. “You’re a musician?” I asked as the idea of Sam strumming beside me made my cheeks heat.
I tried to hide my face by refocusing on his palm, even though I had no idea what I was looking at. I just wasn’t ready to drop his hand yet.
“Not in the least. I tore it apart to make a bookshelf.”
My gaze snapped to his. “A bookshelf?”
“Yeah. Just cut off the front and then added shelves.” He pulled his phone from his back pocket and started scrolling through pictures. It took him a minute to find the image he wanted, and it wasn’t lost on me that he did it one-handed.
What the fuck am I doing?
Again.
After dropping his hand, I tugged my beanie down as he thrust his phone in my face.
Sure enough, there was an acoustic guitar with the front cut off and three wooden shelves running horizontal inside the body.
“It’s for kids books, but I guess you could use it for spices or something too. They’d have to be short though” He sidled up beside me so we could look at the picture together. “Or maybe some little knickknacks? I don’t know.”
“Wow,” I breathed. “You made that?” While he was close, I stole a deep breath of the musky scent of Sam’s cologne. He shouldn’t have smelled that good—not while smoking a cigarette. But he absolutely did, so I took another not-so-conspicuous whiff.
“Yep,” he boasted proudly, flashing me a megawatt grin my hidden gaze lingered on a little too long.
Okay, that’s a bit of an understatement. I stared.
And his smile grew as he stared at me…staring at him.
And it continued.
For entirely too long.
But not nearly long enough.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he finally asked, snapping me out of my stupor.
“It’s just…” You’re sexy. “I mean…” And funny. “I, uh…” And happy. I suddenly got my thoughts together and shook off whatever hypnotic trance the memories of his mouth against mine had put me in. “You just don’t strike me as someone who would want to kill himself,” I announced.
His smile instantly disappeared and his eyes jumped to the ground as his black Converse nervously tapped against the railing. “Not everyone does.”
I should have been a decent human being and not watched such an obviously overwhelming moment for him, but the pain that had appeared on his face rendered me unable to look away. Frankly, in that moment, he more than looked the part of a man who wanted to end it all, and it scared the hell out of me.
I might have been up there too, but I knew what was going on in my head. I wasn’t going to jump off that bridge, but suddenly, I worried that Sam couldn’t honestly say the same.
My pulse spiked as he struggled to force down the demon my innocent observation had somehow unleashed. I wanted to help, but I had no idea what the hell to do. I was clueless as to the war he was waging behind those golden eyes. I barely knew the man breaking down in front of me, much less how to comfort him—or if he even wanted to be comforted.
The only thing I knew for sure was that I had to get him off that bridge.
“I’m… Hey, I’m sorry. Listen, I’m starving. Any chance you want to go grab a bite to eat?”
He swallowed hard then asked the ground, “You asking me out?” The question was teasing, but his voice was gravelly and packed with unshed emotion.
Mine wasn’t much better, breaking as I nervously replied, “I really just want to get off this bridge right now.”
His head popped up, and I offered him a tight smile he seemed to accept as my answer. As he focused on me, the color began to slide back into his face.
“Okay,” he agreed.
I breathed a sigh of relief and nodded entirely too many times. Dropping his cigarette to the ground, he took a step in my direction. He soothingly rubbed my arm, and I couldn’t pretend that it didn’t help calm my nerves, but that wasn’t the only reason I leaned into his touch.
A gentle smile played on his lips as he brushed the curls off my neck and whispered, “I know a little Puerto Rican restaurant that’s open until two. You good with that?”
“That works,” I mumbled.
His eyes studied my face as he asked, “You okay?”
“Are you?” I countered.
He didn’t bother with a response. Resting a hand on the small of my back, he guided me toward the foot of the bridge.
We didn’t chat on the way down. Only a few stolen glances and shy smiles were exchanged. I hated feeling awkward with Sam, but judging by the way he watched me out of the corner of his eye, he didn’t like it much, either.
“You want to ride with me?” he asked, spinning a keychain around his finger when we got to the parking area. All signs of his earlier distress had surprisingly vanished.
“Umm…” I stalled, not wanting to acknowledge my driver waiting for me in the car. However, I was fearful that Devon’s forehead vein would rupture if I disappeared with a random guy—even if Sam was only random to him. “I, uh… I’m not sure. Maybe I can just meet you there or something.”
He lifted a finger and tapped on the bridge of my glasses. “You gonna wear those all night?”
“I haven’t made it that far.” I smiled tightly.
“Well, how about this? Let’s start with you telling me your name. Then we’ll deal with the carpool and sunglasses. After you accosted me with your mouth last night, we’re practically dating. I should probably know your name so I can go ahead and buy our matching airbrushed license plates.”
I threw four fingers up. “Four-eva.”
He drew in a sharp breath. “The fact that you got that joke is so fucking sexy.”
My cheeks heated as I attempted to cover with more humor. “Besides, I owe you nothing. If I remember correctly, you seemed to enjoy that accosting. Wait. How did it go?” I stopped to tap on my chin then gave a breathy moan, mimicking his from the night before.
“Oh, come on. It was a manly moan and you know it,” he flirted, flashing me a bright grin that warmed places other than just my cheeks.
The absence of that feeling in my life might have been the only reason I let my guard fall away. I couldn’t restrain myself anymore. I scooted forward, and as I hoped, Sam slid his arms around my waist, tugging me against his chest.
“Is your boyfriend going to kill me for this?” He nodded to my car only a few yards away.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I whispered as my breathing began to speed.
I shouldn’t tell him.
I was losing my mind.
It was one kiss that probably meant nothing to him.
Maybe that was true, but in the few days since I’d gotten to know Sam, he had begun to mean a whole lot of something to me.
My heart pounded in my chest as I weighed my options.
I can’t risk him telling the whole world about my dirty little bridge secret.
I should just walk away before the headline “Levee Williams is suicidal” paints the front page of nearly every tabloid imaginable.