Breaking Through, page 2
The bartender pushed the tumblers toward them. Charlotte passed one to Sam and clinked her rim against it.
“I can’t believe Sawyer got married again.” She turned to Sam; her eyes huge. “Twice to my none.” She held up her pointer finger and thumb in the shape of a zero. “Remember how hammered we got at his first wedding?”
Sam took a sip of his drink. “No, I can honestly say I don’t remember, and I’m at zero too, you know.” He wrinkled his nose at her. “And I’m four years older than you.”
He held up four fingers. Somehow, they had reverted to kindergarten counting. Carmen would be so proud. No, that wasn’t true. She would roll her eyes and, for the hundredth time, tell him to retrieve his balls from wherever they were hiding and ask Charlotte out.
“I’m happy for them.” Charlotte chased her statement with an impressive slug of whiskey.
“Me too. With only like a small side dish of jealousy. One of those tiny ramekins like they serve coleslaw in with fish and chips.” He used his hands to illustrate the approximate size. Somewhere around the second whiskey, he’d become a hand talker.
“Side dishes. Food.” Dimples popped in Charlotte’s cheeks. “You’re speaking my language now, Stevenson.”
“Should I keep it up?” He leaned closer to her. “Cheeseburgers.” He purred in a deep voice.
“Be still, my heart!” Charlotte pressed the back of her hand to her brow and pretended to swoon in her seat. Then she sat bolt upright and seized his forearm. “Do you think they have fish and chips here?”
“I doubt it.” Sam laughed. “I think the dinner we had is the only one we are getting.” The light played on the pink gloss coating Charlotte’s lips, mesmerizing him. He watched them move for a few moments as she spoke, spilling words like magic spells, before using a swig of alcohol to burn away the ache in his chest. He should get away from her. Being drunk and lonely was never the state one should be in when spending time with their lifelong crush.
But Sam remained beside her, spinning the tumbler around in his fingers, caught up in Charlotte. She bubbled with laughter as she told him stories about work and the bachelorette party they’d held for Carmen. He longed to kiss her. The thought of it consumed him until he no longer heard what she was saying.
“Sam?”
“Sorry?”
“Will you dance with me?”
Holding Charlotte against his body sounded like nothing short of wondrous torture. Too late, Sam realized his head was bobbing up and down in a nod. “Yeah, sure. Of course.” He stood as the song eased into the next. The melody bloomed, floating in gentle notes around them. Couples stood and paired off, making their way onto the dance floor. Sam faltered, and Charlotte’s hand was warm on his arm. She felt him stop and looked up.
“What’s wrong?”
“Should we wait? For a different song, I mean? Or until after the speeches?”
“No way!” Charlotte said, grinning up at him. “I love this song.” She tightened her fingers on his forearm and hauled him toward an open space on the floor.
“What is it?”
Charlotte stretched up to encircle his neck with her arms. He put his hands on her hips, and his mouth went dry.
“What’s what?” she asked.
Sam tried to follow as Charlotte swayed to the music. “This song,” he clarified.
Charlotte blinked up at him. “Ed Sheeran, ‘Tenerife Sea.’ Only the perfect wedding song.” She gestured sideways with her chin. Carmen and Sawyer were making their way over to dance. Some guests moved to the side, watching the newlyweds swirl across the floor, deep in a world of their own.
“Oh.” Tears glittered in Charlotte’s dark eyes. A soft smile curved the bow of her lips as she watched her friends dancing in each other’s arms. “Aren’t they the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?”
“The most,” Sam whispered, never taking his eyes from her face.
Using the music as an excuse, Sam pulled her closer against him. The top of her head hovered around the middle of his chest.
“So.” Swaying with the strains of the guitar, he closed his eyes, cherishing the sensation of her warmth against him. “Who’s Ed Sheeran?”
“You’re kidding me.” Charlotte pulled back slightly to frown up at him. When she saw he wasn’t, she shook her head. “Have you been living under a rock, Stevenson?”
Sam pretended to contemplate the question before answering. “Yes. A rather large, sedimentary one.”
Charlotte wrinkled her nose but didn’t win the battle against the grin creeping across her face. Night-dark pools that had trapped the glow of the chandeliers like stars. “Oh, you beautiful nerd, how do you have no life at all?”
“Hey.” Sam feigned a pout. “I have a life.”
“Your entire life can’t revolve around your work, Sam. You need to do other things. Have other experiences.”
“It doesn’t.” There was no conviction in the statement. Even he could hear that. Sam scowled. “I do stuff.”
“Oh?” Charlotte’s head tipped in the way it did when he challenged her. “Like what?”
“Stuff... stuff. I... read.”
She shook her head. “And where is your date tonight?”
“Um, she cancelled. She’s late. She’s dead?”
The reluctant throaty sound of her chuckle rose above the music. “You and I both know that you never asked anyone to come, you idiot.”
Sam moved them in a lazy circle, content to hold her and relish their banter. They’d spent hours like this when they were younger. Not dancing, but in each other’s company, arguing playfully and laughing. “Why would I ask anyone else when I knew you’d be here?” Sam asked. Charlotte answered by laying her head against his chest.
Once they completed their rotation, Sam caught Carmen watching the two of them from across the dance floor. Carmen narrowed her eyes and pointed a meaningful finger at him. Sam grimaced. They didn’t need to exchange words for Sam to know what she wanted.
Charlotte, missing her friend’s gesture, dimpled up at him as the music eased away. As if she’d been reading his mind, she said, “I miss hanging out with you, Sam. You always make me laugh.”
“You’re the only person who’s ever said that to me.”
Moving her arms around his waist, Charlotte squeezed him in a tight hug. “Let’s make sure we get together more. Please?”
“Anytime. I... I miss you, too.” She was so close her perfume rose in the air and danced with the whiskey in his blood, assaulting his senses. His head tipped forward on its own accord. His eyes met hers, searching for permission, a sign—anything.
“Hey... everyone? Excuse me?” The microphone came to life with a shriek that made Sam’s molars ache. Carmen’s brother, Jake, jumped back from the speakers when every face in the room grimaced in unison and swivelled to look at him.
“Shit! Sorry.” Jake’s face reddened to a deeper shade than the man Sam performed the Heimlich on last week. “I shouldn’t have said that. Umm.”
How Carmen had roped her brother into being the master of ceremony for the wedding was beyond Sam. The poor man was worse in public than Sam was.
“Can the wedding party please join the bride and groom for speeches and toasts, please?” Jake shoved the mic back into its stand and dashed off the stage.
Clammy sweat pooled at the small of Sam’s back. He groaned aloud. Charlotte smiled and slid her hand through his and squeezed. “You’ve got this. Don’t worry so much.”
He was worried, though. Worried he’d puke or faint and ruin everything. Or do something else equally embarrassing that Sawyer would never allow him to live down. Swallowing, Sam let Charlotte drag him toward the stage. Guests waited in expectant silence; their faces tipped up to him. Sam made the mistake of allowing his gaze to stray to his mother as he walked to his parent’s table. Alice caught his gaze, her eyes brimming with tears, and blew him a kiss.
“Sawyer—” His voice came out rough. He cleared his throat. The sound tore around the room with the help of the microphone. Unable to bear looking out at the groups of guests, Sam turned his body to face the head table.
“Little brother.” Sam forced his mouth into a smile. “I thought long and hard about what words I would use to express what you mean to me. Then I realized you know me well enough to understand my being up here is the real testament of love.” Sam drew a deep breath and adjusted the mic, hoping no one would notice the way his hands trembled. “You’re an asshole, by the way. Noah would have been better at this.”
A smattering of laughter rang around the room. Noah saluted him from his seat beside Marcy.
“The only thing I need you to know and understand is how proud of you I am. There were times, watching you grow up, I thought, ‘this kid is insane.’ You were the one who did the things I could never do. You jumped off bridges and raced your bike the fastest. You never let fear stop you.” Sam paused, forcing back the thickness in his throat.
“You hurt yourself so many damn times, Sawyer, that it was because of you I went into medicine. I called Dad at the shop all those times to say, ‘Sawyer twisted his ankle again. Don’t worry, I wrapped it up and iced it. Mom says to pick up milk on the way home.’ It became second nature, the natural next step.”
Sam glanced down at his parents despite his promise to himself not to. He could not place the expression on his father’s granite features, but beside him, Alice clung to her husband’s arm, tears running over her cheeks unchecked. Sam’s vision blurred, and he turned his gaze back to his brother.
“There were so many times I wished you’d slow down. I worried about you. Probably more than a normal kid should worry, but I wasn’t any better at being normal back then than I am now.” A few more laughs crackled around the room.
“Then you met Carmen, and for the first time in our lives, I saw you get scared of something. Not of her or the love growing between you, but of what would happen if you lost her. Some of us would have let the fear paralyze us.” Sam glanced through his lashes at where Charlotte stood to the side, dabbing her eyes. “You didn’t. You knew better than to let her go; you fought. For that, I admire you. Hell, I envy you.” He laughed wryly, then winced. That wasn’t on the sweaty cue cards he clutched in his hand.
“Carmen, I will not stand here and tell you to treat my brother right or to make him happy. You’ve already perfected those feats, and I’m sure it wasn’t easy.” He met Carmen’s smile with his own and winked. “You are the most genuine and giving person. I couldn’t be happier to call you my sister. Welcome to our crazy family. Are you sure you know what you’re getting into?” Sam grinned at the pair of them and picked up his beer from the podium, raising it. “To Sawyer and Carmen!”
An echoing cheer went up. Sawyer and Carmen descended, sweeping him into a tearful group hug. “Thank you, Sam.” Sawyer scrubbed a hand over his face. “Damn it. This wedding has turned me into a crybaby. Dad is probably so ashamed.” Then he laughed and grabbed Sam in another hug.
“You’re welcome.” Sam freed himself from his brother and bent over to kiss Carmen’s cheek. “Every word is true. I love you both.” Their grinning face swam in front of him. “For frig sake,” he said, “have some babies already so Mom will get off my back.”
***
“So, we’ve established my date is non-existent, but where’s yours?” Sam met Charlotte’s eyes over the rim of his glass as he drank. The two reconvened at the bar as soon as the speeches ended, and they had filled their obligatory hug quotas. The bartender slid tumblers toward them as they sat down without being asked. Sam tipped him ten bucks with a grateful nod of his head.
Charlotte shrugged a shoulder. “Cancelled last minute. It wasn’t a big deal. I was so busy I panicked and asked a guy who comes into the café.”
She took a long sip from the glass she cradled between her hands. The fumes from his drink tickled Sam’s nose, and some of the stress released him from its hold. The hard part was over. Now they could drink together, laugh, and enjoy the rest of the evening.
Sam continued to watch Charlotte. She drained her glass and signaled the bartender for another round, this time ordering a glass of merlot. Vague unease shadowed her eyes, betrayed by the way her hands fidgeted with the hem of her dress.
“You know what pisses me off the most?” she blurted. “I’ve been up since four AM. I haven’t eaten bread in months, so I could fit my dress, and the bastards messed up the sizes, anyway.” She held her arms out to the side. The peach lace across her breasts sagged when she breathed out. Sam’s gaze drifted down, then jerked back to her face. She didn’t seem to notice the blush that he knew was creeping over his face.
“I could have been scarfing carbs this whole time, Sam! Instead, I’ve been suffering in a breadless world for three weeks.”
Sam laughed, watching her over the rim of his glass. “I thought you said a month?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Okay, it was two weeks... It was one week, okay! One week without bread!” Charlotte hissed, her eyes going huge.
“That’s the saddest story I’ve ever heard.” Sam struggled to hold back a smile. Extending his hand, he rubbed his knuckles across the silky skin of her arm in condolence.
“Damn Sam, always so nice.” She wrinkled her nose at him and giggled. “Damn Sam. I should start calling you that in revenge for the whole Chuck debacle.”
“Hey now, that was all Sawyer. I had nothing to do with it.”
“You could have stopped him!” There was no heat in her words, but she slapped his knee with the back of her hand.
“It was funny. Calling the cute, short girl Chuck is what passes as irony to teenage boys.”
She cocked her head, studying him. “You thought I was cute?”
Sam snorted. “Of course, I did. You were cute, so sassy, with your crazy pile of curls all piled on top of your head.”
“Do you still think I’m cute?” Blood tinted her cheeks as soon as the words were out, but she held his gaze.
“No.” Sam shook his head, biting his lip to keep his grin in check.
“Oh.” She tore her eyes away, burying her face in her glass.
“Now,” he said, leaning in close enough that he could feel the warmth of her seep into his skin, “I think you’re beautiful.”
Charlotte inhaled the swallow of wine she’d taken. “Oh?” she spluttered, blinking at him. “Thank you.” She brushed her fingers against the bare skin of his forearm. Goosebumps rose traitorously in response, and he suppressed a shiver. Sam turned his hand, tangling his fingers with hers and holding on.
“Sam.” Charlotte stared down at their joined hands, then into his face, her eyes searching.
“Chuck.” He countered, giving her hand a gentle tug. She leaned the barest inch toward him. Sam’s heart threatened to pound from between his ribs. He wasn’t sure what he had started, but his body hummed with adrenaline and excitement.
“Sam?” Charlotte repeated.
Sam raised his free hand and brushed a strand of hair off her cheek. Her tongue flicked out to dab her wine-stained lips. A burning ache squeezed his chest; years of wanting, exacerbated by loneliness and alcohol, by the romance palpable in the air. “The Time of My Life” came on over the speakers. It was the third time the DJ played it after spouting nonsense about Sawyer’s favourite song. Carmen burst into laughter every time it came on.
Around them, people moved to the dance floor. Charlotte’s gaze darted off after them wistfully, then returned to his. The two of them remained at the bar, entangled within the moment they had created.
Charlotte was nervous. Excited. Both. Her lips parted, and the lace dress fluttered at her chest, sped by the increased rhythm of her breathing. Sam noted the signs out of habit, so accustomed to monitoring the human body’s reactions, he did it subconsciously.
Sam loosened one finger and stroked the pad over the silk skin of her wrist. Lifting her hand, he pressed his lips to the blue ribbon pulsing there.
A shuddery breath escaped Charlotte. She tipped closer until her knees pressed against the insides of his. It was a rush to touch her. Everything he’d hoped for and imagined. The sensation set his head spinning.
Sam lowered his fingers, skimming them behind her knee to the whisper-thin skin there. Charlotte shivered. Sam tightened his grip, pulling her to the edge of the stool with a firm tug. The scents of wine and rose perfume teased him. Something base and primal beneath the notes encouraged him. Unsure of when he last inhaled, Sam, drew a ragged breath and raised his other hand, sliding it up her neck to cup her jaw. Her pulse beat frantically beneath her skin.
Sam leaned forward and brushed his mouth against the bow of her upper lip. Her breath left her in a shudder, but she didn’t pull away. Sam’s pulse beat like a snare drum. He kissed her. Kissed her the way he dreamed of for so long—years of kisses in one. He pulled the full pout of her bottom lip between his and tasted the richness of the wine lingering there. Pushing his fingers into the cluster of curls at the base of her neck, Sam tipped her head back, delving deeper into her mouth.
“Sam—” Charlotte broke away, pushing his chest with trembling hands. Reality rushed back like a slap in the face. Sam stared down at her, breath surging through his lungs in raging gasps. He was on his feet, towering over her. When had he stood?
“I... I—” Should he apologize? He shoved his hands into his hair and took a step back from her. How did someone apologize for doing something they longed for, something they didn’t regret?
Charlotte stared up at him, eyes heavy-lidded before her gaze fell to their joined hands. “Can we go to your room?” she whispered. Every drop of moisture in Sam’s mouth evaporated.
“Hell yes. I mean, yes, of course.” He glanced around. If anyone had been paying attention to them, they weren’t any longer. Sam knew only a minute had passed while they kissed, even if it seemed a lifetime to him. Hands still twined, he drew Charlotte to her feet, patting his pocket to ensure the key card for his room was inside.
