EWEW 22: This Is Inevitable

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Current Chapter Posted - Saturday, July 30th 2016

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{ Chapter 22 } : This Is Inevitable


                   By the time I got my shit together and hopped off the counter, it was too late.

I felt the slam of Sam's bedroom door down to my core. I flinched inwardly from the message that gesture sent.

But it didn't discourage me. No. If anything, it only added more fuel to the flames crackling through the hazy smoke. My heart palpitated from Sam's meaningful words and I knew that maybe I had to stop acting like a coward. I'd never had a boy speak to me like he did. It was time to face my attraction towards Samuel Adams.

It was time for my meaningful words. "Sam." I knocked softly on his door. "I'm sorry."

No answer. Utter silence.

And so I began with a brave breath. "I get it. I so get it. I...I don't go around hoping for random guys to come help me when I'm in distress. I...I don't wake up next to random guys either. Never have. Not ever. Not now. I don't try to admire their amazing tattoos when they aren't looking...I don't look forward to seeing random guys...I don't go around smoking with them either. I don't go around wanting their comforting touch when I'm feeling down." My forehead falling forward against his door. "Those are things I only have with you."

There. I said it. The admission left me feeling vulnerable and scared for what could come next, but I'd never take it back. A huge weight was lifted off my chest.

No words or sound again, so I raised my fingers and pressed them on his door. As if he could see, feel, and understand my peace offering. But nothing ever happened.

I held my breath.

The echoing sound of my text message broke me out of my daze and I drew away from Sam's door. Disappointment sunk low inside of me and I felt like I'd ruined something good before it even started.

Hurt and rejected, I turned away to my room and pulled out my cell.

Race tomorrow? I'll send you the details later. I really want you to come, Anna.

-Nicholas


*        *       *


My mind didn't register the drive or what Gabriela was mumbling from the passenger side of my car as we headed to Nicholas's race. I parked one block away from where it was taking place, in order not to create suspicions and make it easier to escape if it boiled down to the cops breaking it apart.

Pretending that I didn't know where we were headed as Gabby dished out directions to me was no use - I knew the map to this place like the back of my hand.

I'd been to this track a million times - much to my chagrin - enough to make it feel like a trip down memory lane. But it wasn't a tidbit I shared with my best friends. That dirty secret you'd take down to the grave, that's what this was. My heart beats mirrored every pounding step of my thigh-high heeled boots against the pavement.

Located in the east, this part was joined at the hip with the sketchier part of town. One minute you were walking down a picturesque-perfect cobble stone street, and the next second it had morphed into dirty stained concrete.

As we turned the corner of the street, entering a brief alleyway leading to the large clearing that would no doubt be housing a variety of fancy and supped-up vehicles, the sight of red bandanas and inky black tattoos - sighs of gang affiliations - were a reminder that this was partially a bad idea and that my heartless-ex ran in these circles due to his father's illegal affairs.

Gabriela and I ignored the catcalls and wolf whistles thrown our way as we sauntered down the declining pathway. Her tight creamy leather ensemble - a sleeveless dress barely reaching her mid-thighs - didn't exactly scream conservative. Coupled with my signature boots and short white romper, we weren't the kind of duo that didn't attract attention.

I blocked out the unnecessary attention we were showered with, but it was no use. I felt my ears heat up in anger at some of the things the younger guys said. I'm sure if I looked now, I'd recognize a handful of Joey's goons.

Upon arriving at the outskirts of the field, I sucked in a horror-induced breath as I took in the massively crowded area. Not once did I recall there being this many people at one of these races. This was only one third of the places where they held illegal street-racing.

Gabriela must have noticed my frozen state, because she scrutinized me with narrowed eyes as she looped her arm with mine, dragging me into the terrifying mosh pit. "C'mon, you're not backing out on me."

I would never back out on Nico again, not if I could help it. As much as I wanted to hightail it out of this clearing, for him, I would stay.

"He said he'd be parked somewhere in the middle," I informed Gabby as she made us walk around in aimless circles.

I noticed old familiar faces of patrons - the regulars who'd always be gambling and making bets - the ones I wanted to avoid like the plague. With my head ducked and gaze lowered, I let Gabriela bring me to our destination. I prayed to blend in with the crowd.

Skimpy clad girls and guys both with money and no money loitered the entire area. A variety of music blared from different stereo systems - a mixture of classic rock, hip hop and r&b - as I saw wads of money being exchanged.

There were so many cars parked along the grassy field encasing the entry of the race track - a long strip road crossing a quarter of downtown. Some stood leaned against their cars for inspection while some sat perched on the hoods. It resembled a scene out of a Fast & Furious movie.

"Eh, ladies, where are you going?" An obnoxious perverted voice yelled.

We ignored it as we continued walking faster.

"Let me get a good look at those never-ending legs, Mami," Another slurred.

More robust laughter rang out but I kept my teeth gritted. Not releasing a single syllable.

"Ugh," Gabby echoed my sentiment."Are these creeps always so foul-mouthed?"

Basically. But I didn't voice out my thoughts in case someone heard.

We walked further and then Gabby said, "Oh, I see them - Well, I see hot-piece-of-a$s Nathaniel."

She'd met Nate once before and when I'd told her that Nicholas's crowd would most likely be there, she jumped at the opportunity. A part of me wondered if it was because she wished to see Hunter.

Arms looped together, we practically sprinted towards the other side of the street to the clearing where Nate and a few other guys sat on a makeshift picnic table, under the awning of a tent. Amongst the lingering males, two of them were Sam and Cade, the bartender from Danny's Grill.

Gabriela was salivating like one of Pavlov's dogs. "My ovaries are aching. I need to procreate with one of these beings."

I laughed. "It's open season."

"That, it sure is, baby."

Oh, yeah. I was totally ogling the eye-candy, too. One particular blond-haired-green-eyed candy.

Today, before leaving the house, I'd totally chickened out until I begged Gabriela to come with me. I needed to face my past - it had shaped me - but it didn't mean I had to do it all alone. Of course, at the mention of drinks, hot guys, and fast cars, she was all game.

I didn't tell her that the skeletons in my closet began from here. That most of my roots stemmed from nights like these, people like these, and moments like these.

"We're here," I stage-whispered more to myself than her.

Gabriela took off, her fiery red hair billowing long and shiny in the breezy night as she sauntered flirtatiously to the boys table.

I tried not to look at Sam as I threaded my way through the thickening crowd. By the time I'd reached, Gabby seemed like she'd already made introductions. Nate was on his feet, kissing both of her cheeks in greeting until he spotted me.

"Anna," he rumbled in his raspy voice, before crossing to me. "Hey."

Nate was the first to greet me, wrapping me up in his solid and warm form. I was surprised for a split second, hence the reason for my delayed response, but I reminded myself that we were trying again. I banded my arms around him and hugged him back. His squared diamond stud dented my cheek as we embraced.

"Glad you could make it," he husked lowly for me to hear. "I thought he'd kill me if you didn't show up."

I frowned.

When we pulled away, my gaze averted from Nate's amused face until they connected with...Sam was watching me with a lazy look in his eyes. I hadn't missed the flicker of annoyance or mild scowl on his face when I'd pulled away from Nate.

I swallowed thickly. Sam took a leisure pull from his bottleneck, keeping those wild half-mast emeralds on me. He was sitting on top of the table surface, his broad shoulders curved in, his thick veined forearms balanced on his knees. His chin was tucked but he kept perusing me from under those thick lashes.

Oh, God. There we go again. It was back. The moment. The kick of adrenaline pouring through my veins, awakening me. I felt something strong and powerful pulsing through my system as electricity coursed between him and I.

Sam's tongue snaked out to wet that bee-stung bottom lip and he drained his beer in one shot, never releasing me from his captive gaze. His Adam's apple bobbed with his swallow and then he was reclining back, depositing the empty bottle next to him, and watching me with that hungry, predatory glint in his eyes. He looked so ruggedly handsome in that moment, with his wet lips, light stubble, intoxicated eyes, and windswept blonde hair that I wanted to punch him.

A virility god. An untamed beast locked in his golden cage, prowling. A bad boy above all bad boys with a heart of gold.

The moment halted in a standstill and I spiraled down into a dilemma. Should I...go talk to him? Say hello? I was no longer certain after our last showdown where he basically admitted that he didn't give every girl his special treatment. Where I basically admitted that I didn't give just any guy my special treatment...

Sam's eyes did all the talking and confirmation as they swept up and down my length, taking in the thigh-highs he loved so much, flaring in color when they stopped at the bare skin of my upper thighs revealed by my itty bitty romper and soaring in a needful emotion when they stopped at the cleavage unmasked by my deep-plunge front.

Maybe I was glad with my choice of attire after all, as his storming gaze finally collided with mine, showing me their approval.

I realized that everyone had gone to ignoring us as we got locked in a staring match. I took in his army green bomber jacket, torso-clinging white shirt, black ripped jeans and black combats. There was something so badass about those boots.

Keeping his eyes on me, he slowly - almost like a stri*ptease, I kid you not - peeled off his jacket and rose to his full height. I panicked, sucking in shuddering breaths and turning away from his intensity.

God, what was wrong with me? Samuel Adams had found a way to weave himself under my skin and I couldn't fvcking get him out. I hated to admit that he was on my mind more frequently than I 'd like. And, I hated to admit that I looked forward to our banter - regardless of how fvcked up it sounded.

"Anna?" Gabby's soft lull pulled me out of my reverie. I whirled around and glanced at her. "You...um...okay?"

My cheeks were no doubt a different color and my entire body was flaming from the closeness of Sam. "Y-Yeah."

Sam swung his legs over the table and stood up. Never. Fvcking. Looking. Away. From. Me. I knew that look. Oh, god. I knew that look.

"I-I," I stuttered uselessly as he advanced towards me. "Um..."

From my peripheral vision, I saw a gathered party nearby, handing out beers and water bottles to the partygoers of the race and I dashed towards them. At these kinds of illegal events, there was always someone handing out free booze.

Shouldering my way into the thick sea of people, I was startled when I felt a warm palm on my bare shoulder. I closed my eyes. Of course, he caught up to me. He always did. My tender skin sizzled where he touched me and I blushed even more - in embarrassment or relief, I didn't know.

"What are you looking for?" His rough whisper caught me off-guard.

"Water," I breathed out.

Sam bypassed me and his broad shoulders and tall frame had everyone parting away like the red sea. Two seconds later, he was back with my ice cold water bottle.

His shirt whipped at the hem in the breezy night air and he lowered his head, dark blonde hair flopping endearingly into his forehead. I was nearly his height with my added heels, but I still had to tip my head back if I wanted to kiss him. Not that I was thinking about it. Not that we were kissing.

My eyes fluttered closed the second Sam pressed the cool bottle against my warm neck, right underneath my jaw. The gesture was strangely...sexy.

"You look a little too hot," he husked in that dark voice meant to tease.

I understood his double-meaning. My hands rose up to close in the crook of his elbows. He used his other hand to cradle my jaw. Swiping the pad of his thumb across my lip, he gathered a bit of my hot pink lipstick and smirked.

"I'm fine," I whispered. My body hummed with his proximity, but the cold from the bottle was calming down my raging hormones that always seemed to be running haywire in Sam's presence.

He chuckled darkly. "That you are."

I smiled with mirth. "What are you doing here, Sam?"

"Heard you'd be here. Wanted to see you. Needed it, actually."

My smile struggled to stay in place as his words sunk in. This boy. My lips parted. Reaching up and mimicking his actions, I swiped my manicured thumb pointedly across his bottom lip and smiled darkly despite the pounding ache in my chest.

He exhaled once roughly and closed his eyes, a crease crinkling the skin between his brows. My rugged blond Adonis looking so perplexed and lost.

"Why, Sam?" I murmured and caught a surprised breath as he dragged the bottle down the column of my throat. The cold seeped through my hot skin.

"She's not my girlfriend," he hushed to me. Despite the loud raucous surrounding us, I could still make out his words and they made leeway for something big and titillating. Hope was making an appearance again.

I swallowed. "I know, Sam."

His eyes snapped open and he narrowed them. "Do you?"

Now I do, I thought silently.

"I can't get you out of my head."

"You told me that before," I murmured. I can't get out of my head either.

He moved his hand lower, the bottle lightly teasing the low neckline of my romper. Little water rivulets trickled down my jaw, my neck and the little valley bxtween my brea$t$. Sam leaned down until his nose rested just underneath the underside of my jaw, his free fingers grazing my tender skin to catch the water droplets. I was shaking as I felt his soothing touch. Felt the intimate feel of his fanning breath against my throat.

I wondered what kind of picture we must have created for the world to see. Standing huddled together in nothing but our bared hearts and confused minds. Two broken pieces joined together with a single touch to create a full half.

Sam once asked me why we kept finding ourselves in each other's presence. I'd chalked it down to a mere coincidence back then. Now I didn't know. It felt like more. It felt inevitable. This. Us. Inevitable.

"Did you mean what you said last night?" His ragged words imprinted themselves in my skin. "About me being the only guy who you..."

He had heard me. "Yes, Sam." I craned my neck back and my fingers sought his face. "I meant every word." I locked gazes with him. "Did you mean what you said..."

His eyes flickered with emotion and there was that heart-throbbing-panty-melting half-smirk I loved so much, curving the corner of his mouth. "I meant every fvcking word I said to you."

My chest burst open with his words and now I couldn't contain the grin twitching across my mouth. "Sam."

He smirked a little, leaning down again. He opened my palm and curled my fingers around the bottle of water he'd gotten me. "Anna. Drink."

I opened the cap and took a hearty swing. I licked my lips when I was done because I grew to realize quickly how much Sam liked that. "Where does that leave us, Sam?"

His brows furrowed and he finally stepped away from me, but kept the material at the small of my back fisted in his hand.

"What does that..." I was already cringing at my words, but we needed to stop walking in circles. Right? "What does that make us?"

The light dissipated from his expression and he averted his eyes to the ground. "I don't know."

I didn't move a muscle nor did I inhale.

"I'm not good with shxt like this, Anna," he confessed hoarsely. "I think about you a lot...but I don't know what to make of it..."

Those words hit me square in the chest like piercing arrows and I gulped painfully. He did not just say that to me. Axis tilted. I drew in a strong breath. "You don't know, Sam?"

But God, I think I did. I was weaved too far into Samuel Adam's web and it wasn't good. I needed to catch myself before I went crashing down like an avalanche.

He didn't say a word, but willed me to understand with his eyes.

I needed words this time. No more second guessing and playing by gestures.

Backing away, I shot his familiar bitter words at him. "Then I guess we're wasting our time here, Sam."

*        *      *



Not once did I spare Sam a glance as I watched the races. I kept a safe distance from him, feeling his gaze burn into my back like laser beams. Anger pulsed and radiated off of him in waves. I mustered all my strength not to give in and look at him.

Nicholas won both of his races. I blended with the crowd as I clapped and cheered for him along with Gabriela. A few people had recognized us and given us discreet head nods. It didn't bother me though. Being recognized surprisingly. I felt calm and in control of the situation, knowing things had changed and I wasn't one to relapse into my old habits.

The wind whipping through our hairs, the sound of laughter and hollering drifting into the air, the stench of alcohol wafting in the area, and the screeching noise of tires skidding made for an exhilarating experience that had adrenaline pumping through my veins and I think I finally understood an ounce of why Nicholas loved doing this so much.

He was definitely made for the track. Made to race. The way he was so in tune with his car was incredible. I'd sat with him a few times in the passenger side when he'd driven me home back in the days, and I always noticed with how much vigor and confidence and controlled ease he'd drive his car. It's like he was a part of it.

When he went flying through the finishing line, the crowd erupted and I found myself filled to the brim with pride. That was my best friend. I yelled at the top of my lungs when he got out of his car, broad grin spreading across that handsome daredevil face as he collected his due from everyone.

But my grin faded when I noticed the other

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