True North Book 3 - Finding Now Kate and Sam (13 page)

Holy shit!
Did I just …?
Oh my God, I did!

I was pressing out my breasts and letting my glance linger on Sam. Did he notice? Well, Lexy was talking to him, but his eyes were stuck on me. So, yes. Yes he did.

Teacher mode, Jolie,
I reminded myself.

The lecture went quickly, and by the time the bell went off, Lexy walked out, irritated. A few minutes later Sam winked at me as he walked by. I played unaffected, but in reality I was holding back a blush.

When the classroom was empty and I was alone I pulled out the paper.

Come out of your comfort zone. Meet me at the Fenix Underground, 9 pm. Wear your new clothes.

- S

That was one hell of a request. The remainder of the day, I flew on autopilot.  Going to Sam’s concert tonight would be like nicking off three items on Headshrink’s to-do list. I didn’t know if I could do them all at once like that. I had planned on wearing the new clothes to Kells first, where I was comfortable, but I hadn’t gotten the nerve up to even clip the tags.

Was it weird? It was like, because Sam seemed to believe in me, I wanted to believe in myself, and I wanted to prove to him he wasn’t making a mistake by putting that kind of faith into me. It made me want to wear the clothes, go somewhere I’d never been and listen to the kind of music that had been my favorite. It was pretty obvious from his style and the acoustic jam he performed at Kells that Sam and I held the same musical tastes.

If I overthought this, I’d panic and wouldn’t do it. So, how could I do it without overthinking?

First, I graded papers through the rest of the afternoon and then headed home. I ate a couple of yogurts and took a shower.

Then the showdown began.

I could only imagine what it would have looked like to an onlooker. Me, in a towel, staring at the clothes that now lay over my armchair, with a pair of scissors on the table between us.

I was so freaking dysfunctional.

“I’m going to wear you tonight and I’m going out,” I told the inanimate objects before I swiped up the scissors and quickly snipped the tags, letting them fall on the floor before I lost my nerve.

I took a step back and contemplated something else. Sam hadn’t offered to pick me up. He’d figured out I had a thing about cars, so it was cool that he backed off and asked me to meet him. It put the ball in my court to do what I wanted to with it. He wasn’t pushy or demanding. I liked that about him. I also liked that he told me to wear the new clothes. He obviously hadn’t seen me in them yet.

“I got it!” I blurted into my empty studio apartment.

I’d do my hair and makeup and then I’d put on the clothes, so I wouldn’t have to look at myself in the mirror. I would be able to feel them and see them on me, but that wouldn’t be as intimate as it would be seeing myself wearing them in the mirror.

Good idea, Jolie.

I styled my long hair to be wavy—almost bedhead-mess—from a pic of Scarlett Johansson that I found online. Sam told me at lunch the other day he thought I looked like her. It was a very nice compliment.

After my makeup, I turned to face the blue jeans. I took a deep breath through my nose. I really wanted to put them on. I reached out my hand and barely grazed the soft denim with tentative fingertips. I closed my eyes and felt the ache in my gut as a memory tried to wedge itself into my mind.

That’s overthinking,
I scolded.

No, it isn’t, it’s remembering,
a tortured voice responded back.

Last time I wore a pair of jeans, my leg bone had broken, piercing through the fabric. Gleaming white bone had shown through, my blood soaking the denim.

With that memory, my heart palpitated in my chest. My breathing was labored. And suddenly I was there, transported by my own mind’s magic. It was over, long gone, but it was still all too real and ever present. Dr. Jensen said to think about just one memory and learn to deal with just that one without letting the next one and the next come, pushing themselves into the forefront to overwhelm me. Sam had said something like that too …. What had he said?

“We find now and hold ourselves in that space until we’re ready to make a new one.”

I held myself here, in the now, in this space.

Me, alone, in the seared grass, my leg impossibly numb but throbbing at the same time. The stench of gasoline and smoke and blood and burning rubber, mixing with the night air. Ethereal until I heard …

Stay right here, Jolie.
Truth was, that old moment was gone. It wasn’t real anymore.

It was real … I was real,
his voice seemed to breathe.

You’re just sitting on the floor in your apartment
,
Jolie
, I reminded myself.
Feel the plush, tan fibers pressing against your naked skin.

As if I were an airplane passenger going down in a crash, I grabbed the jeans and pressed them to my face like an oxygen mask. I pulled in a deep, quivering breath and got a whiff of the department store the jeans came out of. Whatever that new clothes smell is made of wrapped itself around my senses and brought me reeling right back to the present.

I spoke muffled words. “Jeans don’t make bad things happen. They’re not alive, just cloth someone cut and sewed together. They. Are. Safe.”

I stood up defiantly and quickly put my legs through and pulled the jeans on. I didn’t button them or move, I simply felt their presence. They fit like a glove, or maybe a glass slipper. A moment later, I fastened them and moved around my apartment, running my hands down along the legs, and remembering how much I liked wearing jeans.

Peering over at the shirt, I knew it would be too much, so I pulled a black sports bra on over my head instead. I knew I wasn’t going anywhere tonight, as much as I would have liked to. My body was still trembling at the memory.

Going to the fridge, I took out a bottle of wine and poured myself a glass. Sam had brought it over a couple of days ago. I quickly downed a glass, and then poured another.

By now, it was already nine o’clock. I thought about texting Sam and telling him I wasn’t going to make it, but he had probably already started his set. Taking my wine, I sat on the couch and allowed that electric feeling of victory to come through me. I opened my briefcase and pulled out my master list.

Wear the clothes you like.
I checked it off. It was cheating a little I knew, I had to actually
wear them out,
but I deserved a victory dance this evening and this was it. I vowed to myself I’d wear them to Kells tomorrow.

Chapter Eleven

“Beneath Your Beautiful”

Labrinth (featuring Emeli Sandé)

Catherine

Startled, I woke to someone beating on my door. I had fallen asleep on the couch in my jeans and bra.

More knocking.

Quickly I reached for something to cover myself with. My choices were a damp, used towel or the new shirt. I started to run to my drawer for something, but the knocking was loud and insistent so I quickly threw on the new shirt as I forced myself up to the door.

“Who’s there?” I demanded sleepily.

“Your Superman,” came the voice, teasing and sexy.

Sam!

“How the hell did you get up here?” I pulled the door open.

He stood, leaning in the doorway. His dark hair was dripping wet while his soaked, brown Lucky t-shirt stuck to his torso like a second skin. He had definitely gotten caught in the rain.

“I’m friends with your doorman,” he said then winked.

“You’ve met him once.”

He came in without invitation, dropped his backpack and circled around me, studying every inch of my body with his eyes. “You’re in your new outfit.” He smiled like he was proud of me, or like he was hungry, I couldn’t tell. Then he reasoned, “You were going to come to my show tonight, weren’t you?”

“I tried,” I said, feeling my face blush red.

He let out a hot breath. “I like it.”

“You like what?” I whispered, feeling my body responding to his.

“You, in those clothes.”

“Have you been drinking?” I smiled a little and closed my eyes, feeling the heat emanating from him.

“Um … I just played in one of the biggest clubs in Seattle—missed you by the way—and yes, I have been drinking.”

“How did you get here?” I hoped he hadn’t driven drunk.

“Taxi.” He smiled cockily.

I was relieved. “And why are you here at …” I peered over at the wall clock. “Three a.m.?”

“I already told you,” Sam said, walking away and making himself comfy on my loveseat.

“No, you didn’t.”

“No you didn’t.”

I laughed. “No, I’m pretty sure you didn’t.”

“I did. You’re not thinking,” he accused playfully.

“What was it then?” My sleep-addled mind wasn’t computing.

“I already told you,” he said, teasingly impatient. “Now, aren’t you going to offer me a towel? And a drink? I could really use a drink.”

“You could really use a towel,” I laughed. “And maybe some coffee.”

“No way, I have to get some sleep,” he protested then saw my half empty glass of wine on the coffee table. “You only have wine, don’t you?”

“That is all, amigo.”

“Fine, I’ll take the coffee. But with lots of cream and sugar so it’s like melted ice cream.”

“Okay.” I went into my kitchen area and put on a pot of coffee.

“Whaaaat … iiiiis … thiiiiis …?” When Sam spoke, he drawled out each word to make it last, like a little kid who stumbled on something they shouldn’t have.

“What is what?” I liked him drunk. Some people were dicks, but Sam was funny.
Of course,
I thought.

“I could
most
certainly
help you with number six on your to-do list.”

“Now what are you talking about?” I smiled, putting teaspoons of sugar into his cup.

“‘My Master Goal List.’” I heard him read aloud. “‘One. Wear clothes that I like.’ Look, you’re doing it.”

OH MY GOD! I had left the headshrink’s list on the table!
“Hey! Don’t read that!” I screeched.

“‘Two. Go to three places you’ve never been before in Seattle.’ That could be arranged.”

“SAM NORTH!” I shouted and moved to pounce.

He was too quick. He jumped over the back of the love seat and used it as a wall against me. He held the paper up in front of his face while he kept his other arm out was strong in front of him to fight me off. “‘Three: Get drunk. Four: Dance in the rain.’”

“Sam, that’s none of your business. I’m serious! Give it back!” This was making me mad fast.

“Hey!” He held his hand out towards me like a stop sign. “Relax. I’ll stop reading it, but only if you tell me what it’s about.”

“It’s a goal list.” My eyebrows creased in frustration and embarrassment.

He rolled his eyes. “Obviously.”

“It’s from my headshrink.” I swallowed nervously. 

“Okay, so the clothes were number one,” he stated like it was no big deal.

Shit. “Yes, the clothes were number one,” I affirmed, more embarrassed than angry. Embarrassed that I had a list to tell me how to live, and Sam had found it.

“That’s why it’s checked off.” He sounded proud.

“You’re a mastermind,” I jeered.

“Let me read it?” He asked, and his voice was like a warm spoon dipping into cold, hard butter and honey. I’m sure he was very accustomed to getting anything he wanted with that voice.

I was about to say something when he cut me short.

“Don’t get all mucked up, it’s a fun to-do list. And I’ll tell you, six is my all-time favorite. I’d like to read more.” His eyes were on me now. He was asking for permission. The game was over and he was giving me a choice.

I didn’t want him to see how fucked up I was on paper. But he was trying to be my friend.

“Read it,” I said, giving in, and turned back to the kitchen area to pour the coffee.

“‘Four: Dance in the rain. Five: Go to a movie. Six’—did I mention this one’s my favorite?—‘Get laid’ …” He stopped to catch my eyes. “You have an awesome psychiatrist.”

I rolled my eyes at his teasing.

A moment later he said, “Jolie, I could do all of these activities with you.” He contemplated the list thoughtfully.

Did I really want to take him on that deeply personal journey? These tasks were so heavy for me emotionally. Could I trust him? And what if I had another panic attack in front of him? One time had been humiliating enough. Then there was number six. I knew he was talking about the entire list, but my tongue played over the back of my teeth imagining Sam tackling that task. Oh God! I knew it would be hot! But was he serious? Like friends with benefits? I didn’t know if I could have casual sex like that; especially having to face him again in school. And more honestly, I didn’t know what it would take for me to open myself up to another human being that way, and going back to normal afterward didn’t seem like an option for me.