And it does.
He’s in the lobby waiting when the Uber drops me off, and comes running out the door as soon as he sees me. I’m pulling my suitcase behind me, hurrying to him. We meet halfway, and Sam pulls me into a tight embrace.
“Fuck, I missed you,” he breathes before kissing me.
“I missed you, too.”
He runs his fingers through my hair and kisses me once more. The city is still very much alive all around us. I’m not familiar enough with Chicago to know exactly where we are, but I know we’re somewhat close to the hospital where Sam works.
Sam takes my suitcase and carry-on bag for me and leads me inside the apartment building. I can tell right away it’s super nice, and the attendant at the door knows Sam by name. Two other people get into the elevator with us, but it doesn’t stop Sam from slipping his arm around me, fingering the hem of the black dress I have on.
The elevator stops at the sixth floor, and Sam pulls my suitcase out, going down a long hall, stopping to unlock his door.
“I put the pizza in the oven to keep it warm,” he tells me as he pushes the door open, letting me step in first. The light above the kitchen island is on, and I look around as I take my shoes off. Sam has a one-bedroom apartment in the corner of the building, and the corner walls have floor-to-ceiling windows that give an impressive view of the city.
The entire place is nice and neat, and I can tell it wasn’t from him frantically cleaning before I got here. The decor is minimal and modern, mostly done in bold, blue colors. Sam shuts and locks the door behind him.
“Do you want to eat now or...?” he asks, taking his shoes off and pushing them with his foot away from the door.
“I have to pee.”
“Bathroom is right there,” he tells me, pointing to an open door. I grab my carry-on bag, wanting to freshen up a bit after sitting on a plane for hours on end today. I close the door and flick the light on. Even his bathroom is clean, but I’m comforted a bit by a damp towel discarded on the floor.
I pee and go to the sink, washing my hands and rinsing my face. I quickly run a brush through my hair, adjust my breasts in my bra, pulling them up so they look fuller than they really are, and go out of the bathroom, finding Sam in the living room. The lights are still off and he’s looking down at the city below.
“This is an amazing view,” I say, and he turns, snaking his arms around my waist. I get the feeling of butterflies and am instantly turned on from being in Sam’s embrace again. He’s dressed simply right now in a white t-shirt and gray sweatpants, and part of me wonders if he speed-read some of my books to know that gray sweatpants are one of my biggest weaknesses, exhibited by pretty much all of my characters having the same flaw.
“It’s why I picked it. Corner units can be hard to come by. I moved in the floor above and the next month, this one opened up. It was not a cost-effective move to come down here, but I like the natural light coming through in the morning.”
“That would be nice.”
He tightens his hold on me, and I stand on my toes to kiss him. One kiss is all it takes to fan the flames between us, and we quickly end up naked and having sex on the couch. Sam gives me his t-shirt to put on when we’re done, saving me “the trouble” of having to go through my suitcase to get something else to wear.
Dressed in only his boxers, he gets the pizza from the oven and brings it over, setting the box on the coffee table. He turns the TV on and gives me the remote so I can pick something for us to watch.
“I like this,” I say, sliding a slice of deep-dish pizza onto a plate. “Sex, pizza, and murder documentaries.”
“This is my ideal Friday night.”
“With anyone?” I tease.
“With you,” he says right back, turning to look at me. “I’ve never done this, you know.”
“Eaten in your living room?”
“No, I usually eat in here while watching TV. I mean…this.”
I slowly shake my head. “I’m not really following.”
“Be with someone…someone I love. It’s really fucking nice.”
I smile. “It is, and I haven’t either.”
“You’ve never been in love before?” he asks, and I can tell he’s a little afraid of my answer.
“There were times I thought I was,” I confess. “But there was always one problem with every relationship.”
“What was it?”
“They weren’t you.”
“I had the same problem, but with you.” Sam grins. “We’re here now, together, and that’s what matters.”