keenly on his body he would be tempted to imagine that it had been a dream.
A fevered dream that blended the past with the present, reality with fantasy.
But no. It had happened. He was sure of that.
His skin felt different. Hot. Because of her.
Because she had touched him that way. All over. Because she had kissed him, taken him into her mouth.
Because he had...
He gritted his teeth, walking into the bathroom and turning only the cold water on in the shower. He stepped beneath the spray, bracing his hands on the wall and gritting his teeth. He waited. Waited for the cold water to do something. To make him numb so that he didn’t feel any of this anymore.
She had left.
They’d had sex without a condom.
But she’d left.
And he hadn’t fought to get her to stay.
Those facts rolled around inside his brain, and they effectively distracted him from the cold shower, which ultimately did nothing. Absolutely nothing.
He didn’t feel better. He didn’t feel fixed.
He felt changed.
And not necessarily in a good way.
He got out of the shower and dried himself off, making certain to scratch his skin with his rather cheap and threadbare towel. Just as a continuation of the general physical punishment he felt that he deserved.
He got dressed and jerked open his bedroom door and stopped. Right there in front of the door, between his bare feet was...
A sugar cube.
He bent down slowly and touched the top of it, looked down at the bright white shape on the scarred wood floor. Picked it up, rolled it between his thumb and forefinger.
Sammy.
He walked down the hall toward the landing, and there was another one, just before the first step. He picked that up, too.
There was another in the middle of the staircase. And another.
And Sammy was lucky that he got up earlier than anyone else in the house, or he was sure that the sugar cubes wouldn’t have remained.
As he got closer to the kitchen he could smell bacon cooking. And on the dining table was a plate. At the center of it was of course—a sugar cube. His lips twitched.
He sat down in front of the plate, but left the sugar undisturbed.
A blond head poked around the kitchen doorway, a sheepish look on her face. “Good morning.”
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said.
“You walked right into my trap.” She had a bright, triumphant look about her that seemed more hopeful than actually happy.
“Don’t I always?”
Their eyes met, and held.
There was a weary look on Sammy’s face this morning, and he swore he could feel an extra line carving its way into his forehead.
If he’d aged ten years last night he wouldn’t be surprised.
Apparently, she felt the same.
“Yes,” she said softly. “Which makes setting traps for you fairly low risk. But I had my questions this morning.”
“And what inspired you to set one in the first place?”
“I wasn’t going to leave it like that. We both deserve a little bit better than an awkward walk of shame and waking up alone. Don’t you think?”
“In fairness, I’m used to waking up alone.”
“Well,” she said. “I don’t walk of shame.”
“I didn’t want you to.”
He hadn’t asked her to stay, either. But he hadn’t wanted her feeling...that. Not in a million years.
“I know,” she said slowly. “The shame was all mine. But it doesn’t need to be there. Not with us.”
“Why was it?”
“Because,” she said, sighing. “I... I’m afraid that I was doing something terribly me. And I got you caught up in the middle of it.”
“Something terribly you? What does that mean?”
He had a very solid feeling that he wasn’t going to like the answer. Whatever answer it was Sammy came up with. He didn’t know why.
“I used you as a lifeline,” she said. “Because I felt like I was drowning. And I don’t mean to do that to you. I know you’ve got enough on your plate, and enough people to take care of. I do. But something in me has always known that you would take care of me. That you could help fix me. And I’ve always wanted it. Craved it. And I just... I think I did that here. I’m really afraid that I did. It wasn’t fair. I lied to myself about how big it would be.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I wanted to fix my life. I wanted to feel better. I wanted to feel like I could be different and prove my mother wrong. And I thought that maybe having a baby would