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Fuck.
This man was going to be the death of me.
I repositioned myself so that I was lying next to him instead of hovering over him, my arm reaching across his waist as I pulled him closer. “I think you might be the best thing to ever happen to me, Sam Watson.”
“I think you might be the best thing to ever happen to me, too, Damon Anderson.” Sam let out a satisfied sigh. “I think you’re the best thing to ever happen, period.”
“Goodnight, Sam,” I murmured, before pressing a soft kiss against his forehead.
“Goodnight, Damon,” he replied, before returning my kiss, his lips tender against my skin. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
A few moments later I was drifting off to sleep, even as a thought prickled at the back of my head, a concern about the future, a question about if we were really going to make something out of this relationship.
But I was able to quiet all the concerns in my head, just by pulling Sam closer to my side.
17
SAM
Life was good.
Impossibly good.
I was standing in front of the coffeemaker in the kitchen, drumming my fingers along the countertop as I watched the timer countdown on the digital screen. My mind felt like it was in a million different places at once as I tried to process what was happening to me, my new reality struggling to sink into my brain.
I’d somehow fallen into a whirlwind kind of love, the kind that only existed in movies and on TV screens.
And yet, it was real.
Damon was real. I’d left him sleeping in bed, hoping to surprise him with a fresh cup of coffee and maybe something simple for breakfast, like bacon and eggs. While I wasn’t that much of a cook, I figured I’d be able to stick to the basics and produce something edible enough.
Maybe.
I smirked to myself as I moved toward the pots and pans, knowing that even if I completely fucked up breakfast, Damon would still forgive me, still be in love with me. It was the total opposite of the usual anxiety that coursed through my system, a peaceful calm spreading over me, a refusal to imagine the worst-case scenario at all times.
It was the sort of thing I definitely could get used to.
“Bacon! Bingo!” I cheered to myself as I opened up the fridge, quickly locating the ingredients I needed. It didn’t take me much longer to get breakfast going on the stove, humming along with a pop song in my head. For a second, I considered making the eggs into an omelet, until I remembered the last time that I tried to make an omelet, things had ended in a kitchen disaster with pieces of egg sliding down my apartment wall.
Which meant I’d be sticking with the non-omelet option this morning.
When I was finished, I slid the bacon and eggs onto two separate plates, evening them out. A few seconds later and I was headed down the hall, on my way to wake Damon up for breakfast. As I made my way to the bedroom, I couldn’t help but wonder how many times I’d be able to do this, to cook us breakfast in a shared place together, to go to bed beside him in our sacred space, too.
Because being with Damon was just as magical as the rest of Roanoke.
And I never wanted it to end.
When I was only a few steps away from the bedroom, I heard my laptop go off with a notification chime. I paused, halfway between Damon and whatever was going on with work, probably Anthony on my case about the final draft of the divorce article. I rolled my eyes as I turned back toward my laptop, determined to get the conversation with Anthony over with so I’d be able to enjoy my breakfast with the man I loved.
“What do you want this time, Anthony?” I murmured, as I plopped down on the living room couch, pulling my computer into my lap.
And then, my eyes went wide as they landed on my most recent email.
“Hey there, Sam the Man! Just letting you know your article went live this morning and it’s already viral! Call me when you get the chance. Always believed in you, kiddo. – Anthony”
Went live this morning?
