"You should never roam on your own at this time of the night. What were you thinking?" I wasn't thinking. "I needed fresh air." "You didn't think of getting fresh air close by, instead of entering a godforsaken alleyway at such a time of the night?" His tone was incredulous, implying that I pretty close to stupid. I was stupid. At least tonight. "This sounds an awful lot like a lecture." Was it just my imagination or had he moved closer to me? Sam breathed unevenly. His hand circled my wrist and tugged at it, until our chests collided. Until I was forced to crane my neck back to look him in the eyes. "Tell me why we keep meeting each other," he whispered. "Tell me why we keep bumping into each other even after you've made it clear that we're to avoid one another." The sudden change of subject nearly gave me whiplash but I played it cool. As cool as someone who's tipsy could play it. By feigning indifference. I shrugged my shoulder but it failed. Sam crushed my palm to his sweaty chest, separating my fingers and threading them with his. He held our joined hands close to his heart. "Maybe it's a coincidence," I breathed. His eyes narrowed. "Or maybe not." He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and walked us backward, until my back painfully dug into the brick wall. He had me caged in. Cornered. Still gripping my hand. "We're going to go with maybe not, Anna." Under the dim light, I could barely make out his face. Could only feel. I felt the fabric of his t-shirt under my clammy palm. Felt the soft material of his sweatpants brushing against my bare thighs - covered in simply denim short shorts. And then his thumb did a gentle sweep against the back of my hand, and I was reminded of Joshua's party. With my other hand, I touched his fingers, feeling a tape wound tightly around his knuckles, all the way down to his wrist. Sam's breath quickened when I continued feeling up and down his other arm. He had some kind of band wrapped around both his hands. "What's this?" I asked, fingering the rough material. Sam abandoned my hand and put some space between us. Enough space so I could finally think... and breathe without his intoxicating scent confusing me. Twin pools of emerald strayed on my mouth. "What's what?" Then he took another step back and I inhaled sharply at the scars I could finally see. The wounds and gashes on his arms and face looked even worse. More defined. More deep. My eyebrows knitted together and I reached forward, running the pad of my fingertips absentmindedly over the jagged scar above his right brow. I wanted to blame my actions on all the liquor I'd consumed, but the truth is that I wanted to touch him. "Why do you always look like you took a beating?" I murmured, my shoulders sagging defeatedly. Or gave a beating. "Why do you always act like you care?" His voice was strung tight. I shook my head, my finger lightly running down the slope of his cheek before falling to my side. My hand sizzled at the contact, like an electrical current coursed through me the second I touched his face. "I don't like seeing people... you... hurt." It was the alcohol talking. It got to have been the alcohol talking. Another strained noise erupted from his lips and then Sam was striding closer to me, closing the distance between us, pinning me against his chest, then moving me backwards until my back came in contact with the brick wall - again. His finger jerked up my chin at the same time that his face came down, and my heart got lodged in my throat. My fingers grasped broad shoulders as Sam's nose traced the column of my neck until his warm lips pressed against my ear. He murmured, "I don't like the look you're giving me right now, Barbie." "What look?" Breathless. I was breathless. "Like you actually give two shits about my well-being." His forehead slide against my temple. "It's fucking with my head." I sucked in a deep breath at the same time that he exhaled . Our eyes bored into one another and then our breaths mingled. I had to ask myself why everything was so intense with this guy. We were like firecrackers, going off the split second we came into each other's presence. Sam kept his eyes on mine as he raised a bandaged hand and framed the side of my head. Shamelessly, I leaned into his touch. "You really need to make up your mind, Anna," he grated and pressed his body closer to mine. "This can't - " "Sam." I flinched at the intruder and just like shattered glass the moment broke, and I stepped sideways, away from Sam's embrace. He cursed lowly under his breath and shot me a look, before his eyes drifted to the source of the voice. Another guy emerged from the shadows, this one shirtless. But I wasn't scared like last time, because Sam obviously seemed to know him. He meant us no harm. "We've been looking for you," he spoke, walking towards us with determination and exuding a sense of authority. The same one I sometimes felt rolling off waves from Samuel. "You start in a couple of minutes." "I know, Nate." Sam's voice was razor-sharp, before he decidedly softened his tone as he addressed his friend. "I had to tend to something quickly." He gave me a meaningful glance and his throat worked. "I'll be there shortly. I'm just going to take her back to Danny's." Nate shook his head and his deep baritone left no room for arguing. "You go back." He jerked his head at Sam. "You've got somewhere to be. I'll take care of her." Sam wanted to object, I could tell. If the way the protruded veins in neck were any indication, he wanted to defy whatever this Nate guy had just said. But he didn't have it in him. They were about the same height. When Nate passed him, Sam stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, squeezing hard. "Make sure she gets there safely."