A suggestive look crossed his face and he bit his lip again. "Now who's the one talking about backseats and getting wet?" I froze, color coating my cheeks until I flushed a beetroot red. It was dark so he couldn't see the heat engulfing my face. "You're five seconds away from losing your ride." "Oh, I want my ride." He grinned boyishly. One car ride. One car ride then this guy would be out of my life forever, I thought. Everything was an innuendo to him. I got myself into this mess and I was going to get myself out. The ride was relatively quiet. Music filled the empty space with the occasional soft - yet barely audible - pained groans Samuel released as he shifted on the seat. His cuts and wounds kept stealing my attention. When I asked him directions to his house, he simply retorted with a, "Drop me at Josh's place." I didn't need instructions to Joshua Brown's massive palace. He broke the silence a couple of minutes later. "About last night... sorry." Tension was coiled so deeply in my shoulders that I didn't realize until they sagged a fraction in relief. "What part?" I wouldn't be surprised if he was just messing with me. His head lolled back against the headrest. "The panties part. And the part where I mentioned the room upstairs... Jodanna." My jaw clenched. I couldn't forgive and forget, but I wanted to move on and block out the entire situation. It brought up unwanted memories. "Let's not talk about it, Samuel." His eyes snapped open. Dark. Thundering. "Don't call me Samuel." "Don't call me Jodanna," I countered with the same hint of defiance. "Fine." His lips twitched. "We'll stick with Barbie Girl then." "Anna," I corrected. "Sam. Just Sam. Not beer boy," he retorted with a small shake of his head. A few beats passed. "I'm sorry, too." Sam didn't say a word. Instead, he waited for me to continue. I turned into a small street. "For almost hitting you... and for throwing my drink all over you." He was staring straight ahead, gaze fixed into the distance. The only indication that he heard my words was the telltale tick in his jaw. "It's good," he said calmly. "I deserved it." This was going to be over soon, I had to keep reminding myself. One ride. Just one ride. There was no need to feel intimidated by his presence in my own car. From the corner of my eye, I surveyed him. His slender fingers drummed against his thighs to the soft tune blaring through my speakers, despite the battered quality of his knuckles. Just observing the cuts and dried blood made my skin prickle. His knee and head bounced every now and then to the music, and the streetlights played shadows across his face as I drove by. He looked unaffected and relaxed. For some reason, I thought Sam would be obnoxious, trying to smooth-talk me all the way trough. But he was so quiet - serene, even - that it kind of scared me. Maybe it was my judgmental part that was creating all these assumptions about him. I didn't know the guy. The silence between us was almost... peaceful. But I couldn't thank the Lord enough when Joshua's house's iron wrought gates came into view. His red car was in the driveway. "Is it okay if I drop you outside?" Sam was already unbuckling his seat belt. When I stopped the car, he opened his door and stepped out. With a hand braced over the roof, he bent at the waist until his head was levelled with mine. "Thanks, Anna," he said. "I really appreciate it." I toyed with the zipper of my thigh-high boots and his eyes caught the motion. His eyes, which were an even darker shade of green than I remembered, danced in amusement. At this proximity, I could even see the specks of amber within the emerald depths. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth when I stuttered with an awkward, "D-Don't worry about it." Sam was about to close the door when I frantically reached out to stop him. "W-Wait!" Caught off guard, he leaned down to peer at me again. The question had been itching me since he got into my car. "Are you okay?" I held my breath, because I couldn't fathom why it took so much courage to ask him. "Yeah," he responded a little confusedly. "Why wouldn't I be?" "Because... Because your hands they... and your leg." I sucked in a breath and flexed my hands on the steering wheel as his expression grew. "You look like you took a beating. Or delivered one. I don't know." His eyes widened before he laughed huskily, a cute dimple tucking deep in his left cheek. And for some reason that stupid dimple made me soften towards him. God, I was twisted. "Be careful there, Barbie." He winked, still chuckling. "You're giving yourself away. Could it be that you actually care for my well-being?" Oddly enough, I was fighting the smile that was threatening to inch upon my face. "You said you wouldn't call me Barbie." "I'm shitty at promises." "All right." I nodded, forcing myself to look away from his growing dimple. "If you say you're fine, then I should probably get going." "Goodnight." He smirked, like he was in on some joke that I wasn't. "I'll see you at school, thanks again." My smile fell. Sam noticed the change and paused one more time, slanting an eyebrow. "Look, let's completely erase the last two days." He nodded seriously. "Agreed." But he wasn't getting it. I never wanted to see him again after tonight. I stumbled upon him by mistake tonight, or else I'd prepped myself to completely forget about him. It wouldn't be possible if I kept bumping into him at school. "No." I tried again. My hand moved over my gear shift impatiently. "I mean, let's forget entirely about tonight and yesterday and start on clean slates. Our acquaintance ends here. You apologized and I apologized. That's all." Sam's shoulders flared as his brows knitted in confusion. "Exactly, clean slates. Then why?" I shrugged measly. "I'm not that kind of girl." The kind that you sleep with, occasionally hook-up with, frequently make-out with. Those days were done. As Layla would say, 'I'm nobody's booty call'. Sam's humourless chuckled sliced through the air. "And I'm that kind of guy?" His gaze bore into mine, seeking, needing an answer, and I saw the same undertone of hurt as yesterday when I mentioned how guy's like him only wanted one thing. I couldn't understand it, so I shook off the feeling telling me that I was missing something - an important piece of puzzle. That I was doing something wrong. I didn't answer him. In defeat, and maybe a bit of anger, he closed my door and walked away. The quiet sound was louder than if he'd slammed my door shut. Sam entered Joshua's house through the gates and I drove off without making sure he got inside safely. His stupid, musky cologne still lingered in the space of my car.