Sam’s eyes rested on the clock directly across from him on his side table. He was starting to really become frustrated at these coincidences. Something was different about this moment though. Something about the way he was feeling made him squirm around in bed, slightly uncomfortable. He was tired, but it was like his body was telling him there was something that he was supposed to do or yet…something he didn’t do?
He could hear some sirens off in the distance but as the minutes passed, they began to sound closer and closer. He was accustomed to hearing sirens. For one, it was in his career to flip one on; and two, they lived in New York City. Something was always going on and he wondered how he hadn’t adapted to blocking out the noise as well as his heavy sleeping wife. Lately, he felt as if every little thing had woken him up. Actually…If he really thought about it…lately, he felt like he was just going slightly insane. He wasn’t sure what was going on with him…but, people were starting to notice.
Finally Whole by Mia
Tonight was the night. As Sam made his way back into his 2nd floor apartment, he couldn’t help the feeling of nervousness that suddenly came over him. What if she wants nothing to do with me? No. He refused to believe that. They had loved each other, been each other’s backbone. She had been his everything and to be quite honest, she still was. That’s why he had to try. He owed it to himself to try to get back the only woman he would ever love. He owed it to her to be the man that she deserved – one who would love and support her unconditionally. He owed it to them to give her the life that they used to pretend they were living as they sat cuddled on her parents couch, or the future they planned out in whispers as they lay in her bed after making love. God bless her ever busy parents.
It had been a little over four years since he’d held her that way, hair sticking to the sides of her face while he ran his hands up and down her back, still damp from the sweat of their previous activities, her head lying on his bare chest. He closed his eyes and lost himself in the memories for a moment before walking down the hall to his bedroom to get everything laid out before he showered. After all, when you want to seduce the love of your life, you have to make sure you look your best.
As he stood under the spray of the shower, he thought back to the last time he’d seen her, the day after New Year’s. They’d run into each other at the supermarket, both picking up some items for their respective homes. He was doing it as a favor for his mother; she was doing it to sustain herself because her parents had once again flitted off to another conference and left her alone. She had been absolutely adorable in her oversized knit cap and winter coat – New York was frigid in January. He’d asked her if she wanted him to keep her company. After all, no one should spend New Year’s Day by themselves. After a brief hesitation, she had agreed and after dropping his purchase off at his parent’s house, he had driven to hers.
Mercedes took a deep breath of cold air. It almost burned her lungs in a way that made her feel like she was coming back to life after a long sleep. She had pleaded with herself not to come here even though it was her idea to begin with. But she felt stupid, like this wasn’t even going to work. Sam probably thought she was crazy asking if he would do this for her, heck, he probably felt like what he was already doing wasn’t good enough now. But, that wasn’t really the case.
Since she hit puberty some years ago, Mercedes had found that her inner desires were becoming more and more clear to her. They were all but obtuse as she noticed the tingly feelings she got when reading twilight or seeing any movies about vampires. The thoughts of the abnormality of it and the rush of danger often made her bite her lip or flush at the cheeks. She knew this was no special feeling, seeing as how 90% of the female population seemed to be into the same thing as her. But, why had it been so hard for her to voice out loud?
Request from the Author of “The Wedding Planner” luv you girl :o)
The Elevator Scene
‘Whoa! Slow down, Sam!’ Stevie exclaimed as he watched his brother knock another shot of bourbon down. Sam ignored him and gestured to the bartender. Another shot of whisky slid down the bar counter towards him.
‘Hey! That’s enough!’ Stevie broke Sam’s hold on the glass by sheer brute strength and glared at him.
‘What the fuck is wrong with you, Sam!’
‘Gimme it, Stevie,’ Sam tried to reach over him and grab the shot glass, but Stevie was having none of it. Sam overbalanced and fell off the bar stool landing in an ungainly heap on the floor.
‘Shit!’ Stevie stood up and bent down to help his brother to stand. There was something obviously bothering Sam; he only ever drank like this when he was upset about something. Actually the only other time Stevie could remember him like this was the night after they found out about their mom’s cancer.
‘Shtevie..’ Sam slurred, throwing his arm around him,’ why me…huh?’
‘Ok Sam, come one let’s get you to the suite,’ he said catching the bartenders eye.
‘Do you need a hand, Mr Evans?’ the young man offered his gaze flicking to the completely inebriated Sam.
‘No, thanks. I’ll wrestle him to the suite,’ he answered half dragging his brother who was now giving him big sloppy kisses on his cheek.
‘I loooove you Shtevie…I loooooooove Mercedes…’ Sam crooned in his ear.
He stood at the entrance of the bar, arms aching from supporting his brother’s weight and glanced up and down the corridor for any sign of their parents. Granted, it was two in the morning and they would have probably gone to bed a long time ago but he could never be sure. Seeing no one he propelled his brother towards the elevator, rolling his eyes heavenward in annoyance. He jabbed the call button and breathed a sigh of relief as the doors slid open.
‘Why won’t she love me?’ Sam asked in a kicked-puppy tone of voice.
‘Get in,’ he shoved Sam in, losing patience and pressed the button for the honeymoon suite. Leaning back he eyed his brother critically. Sam was a damned mess, his hair sticking up everywhere from where he had run his fingers through it in frustration a countless number of times. He watched incredulous as his brother took his shoes off and then proceeded to take his jeans off too.
‘Sam! The hell? Don’t you dare strip in this lift!’ he made a grab for his brother but with speed that was surprising for one so drunk, Sam evaded his grasp and took off his blazer and tugged his T-shirt over his head.
‘Jesus Christ! What is wrong with you?’ Stevie threw his hands up in the air helplessly, as his brother stood swaying with only his boxers and socks on.
‘I love her Stevie…I really love her…we could be awesome. Why won’t she let us be awesome sauce? We could be like a new flavour…chocolate swirl…mmmm she tastes so good,’
‘I don’t wanna hear that shit!’ Stevie snapped, sure that if he lived to be a hundred he could never look at Mercedes the same again. Arriving at the designated floor the lift doors slid open and Sam stumbled out leaving Stevie to hurriedly collect the clothes scattered on the elevator floor.
He pushed past Sam and fished the key card that was in Sam’s jeans pocket and opened the door. He all but pushed his brother in and forced him to sit on the plush sofa in the middle of the suite.
‘Sit here. Don’t move.’ Turning away he reached for the phone and dialled reception. He requested a pot of strong black coffee and a sandwich, figuring it might help to soak up the alcohol in Sam’s system. He watched as Sam got up clumsily heading for the bedroom and he sighed in relief. Hopefully he’d sleep it off. Mercedes Jones, he thought, you’ve got a lot to answer for… He cracked a smile and laid his head back against the sofa, closing his eyes. Who would’ve thought it? His hotshot, devil-may-care brother laid low by a woman that seemingly wanted nothing to do with him.
Hearing a movement he snapped his eyes open and shot to his feet as he caught a glimpse of his brother sailing rather drunkenly out the door with his guitar in hand.
‘Sam! Wait!’ he crashed straight into the coffee table in front of the sofa, having forgot it was there and he was immobile for a few seconds as pain exploded along his shine.
‘Goddammit! Ow!’ he rubbed at his leg whilst limping hurriedly after his brother arriving just in time at the bank of lifts to see the doors shut on a foolishly grinning Sam.
‘Fuck!’ where the hell could he be going…only one place came to Stevie.
‘Motherfucker!’ he opened the door to the emergency stairwell and climbed the stairs two at a time headed for the presidential suite.