I return to the living room and offer Samantha her wine. She smiles, licking her lips like she can't wait to be just a little bit more tipsy.
She's sitting on the rug. It's the same crimson rug we always sit on. Once upon a time, I made a joke about having sex on the rug.
She didn't laugh at that one either.
I take a seat on the couch. Samantha frowns. Pats the spot next to her.
But I shake my head.
She pushes herself off the floor and plops next to me. She's close, closer than she should be. She rests her head on my shoulder. Wraps her hand around my arm.
"Sam, don't..."
"Please." It's a high-pitched whine, a desperate plea. She takes a long sip of her wine, her cheeks flushing with color. "Just hold me for a while."
I push her off as gently as I can. "You know I can't."
She sighs, wrapping her fingers around the stem of her glass. "Right. I'm sorry... I shouldn't ask... I forgot about Alyssa for a minute."
"Sam..."
She hugs her chest with her arms, her eyes turned to the floor. "Wouldn't a minute be okay?" It's so desperate, like she'll fall apart if I don't immediately wrap my arms around her.
But it's not happening. "I can't." My voice is harsh. A warning not to ask again.
She shakes her head. "Of course. I'm so sorry. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable." She brings her eyes to mine for a moment. "You're the best thing in my life. Please don't think I have the wrong idea."
I nod. It's possible Samantha did forget. It's possible she really means nothing by her request.
But it's also possible she knows exactly what she's doing.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The sky is dark the entire drive back to Santa Monica. There's an Alyssa-shaped hole in my gut, and I'm desperate to do anything I can to eradicate it. I'm so close to wrapping my arms around her, to feeling her heart beating against my chest.
It's late, too late, when I finally park in the driveway. The house is dim, but there's a low roar from the TV. Alyssa is curled into a ball on the couch. She's hugging a pillow and her eyes are closed. I almost don't want to wake her.
She stirs. Her body unfurls, her arms stretching over her head, her jaw dropping in an adorable yawn. She's wearing my clothes--a T-shirt and boxers. It's such a small, intimate thing, but it feels so right, like this tiny part of our lives is finally properly tangled.
She looks at me with the tiniest smile. She's still tired. It's completely adorable.
"What time is it?" she asks.
"Later than it should be." I drop my bags on the floor and move towards the couch.
She keeps her eyes on me, even as she struggles to keep them open.
She shifts to a seated position. "I have to get up early tomorrow. I have an audition and I haven't rehearsed at all."
"You can pull an all-nighter."
"I might." She runs her fingertips along my arms, tracing from the veins on my wrist. "I missed you, you know?"
"I missed you more."
She brings her eyes to mine. There's such a need in her expression, but she blinks and it's gone. Replaced by something more demanding.
"Do you want to talk about everything?" I sit next to her.