Dou you mind, Mike?

After (part 3)

As Sam closed the bathroom door, she leaned against it and slowly slid down to the floor. Hugging her knees to her chest, she tried to collect her thoughts. She couldn't shake off what had just happened—or rather, what could have happened. Did Mike really want to kiss her, or was it all in her head? And if he had, would she have kissed him back?

She stood up, undressed, and stepped into the shower, letting the warm water cascade over her body. There was a strange feeling in her stomach that she couldn't quite explain, but she smiled. For once, she wasn't alone in the house.

Mike had changed out of his street clothes into more comfortable gray sweatpants and a simple white tank top. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he folded his dirty clothes and put them into his bag. He took out his phone and scrolled through social media, barely paying attention. After a while, he tossed the phone aside and jumped up. Grabbing his car keys from the table, he headed outside. He retrieved his toolbox from the car and walked back into the house.

He examined the pieces in the corner, which were supposed to be the components of a dresser. He laid them out meticulously, took out a pack of screws and a screwdriver from his toolbox. Hearing the water running in the bathroom, he figured Sam would be in there for a while. He didn't know why, but he wanted to surprise her by assembling the furniture.

As he methodically fit the pieces together, tightening each screw carefully yet firmly, his thoughts kept drifting back to the moment he almost kissed Sam. He couldn't get the image of her laughing, flushed face out of his mind.

Sam slipped into an old, worn-out soccer jersey that used to belong to her dad, threw on a pair of shorts, and wrapped her wet hair in a towel. Hearing several small thuds from the hallway, she stepped out and followed the sound.

When she saw Mike already working on the half-assembled dresser, she couldn't help but smile. Mike was focused, his every movement deliberate and skilled. As Sam approached, Mike looked up and caught her gaze.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Sam asked with a laugh. 

"Just thought I'd surprise you," Mike replied with a smile. "I hoped to get this together before you came out. I wanted to be of some use." 

Sam sat down on the floor next to Mike, watching him work. After a moment, she spoke softly, "You know you didn't have to do this, right?" 

"Maybe not, but I wanted to," Mike said, tightening the last screw. "I wanted to help. Besides, Sam, that shower took forever," he added with a teasing grin. 

Sam paused, then said, "Thank you."

Silence filled the room, but it wasn't awkward. Mike put the tools back in the toolbox and looked proudly at the little dresser in front of him. 

"You know I wanted to paint it white first, right?" Sam said, laughing as she looked over the furniture. 

Mike leaned back on his hands and stretched. "You could have mentioned that earlier," he laughed. "I can do it if you want. I just need to buy some paint since I don't have any in the car right now." 

"Painting is something I enjoy. As you can see, almost all the furniture in the house is white. I did it all myself." Sam mimicked Mike's position, their fingers nearly touching.

Mike turned his face towards her. "Then let's do it together." 

Sam got lost in his gaze again, thoughts of the almost-kiss flooding back. Honestly, it was all she could think about. She hadn't felt this way in a long time, and it scared her. She had to suppress these feelings.

"Let's talk about it tomorrow," she said, smiling as she stood up. She extended her hand to Mike to help him up. "I think we both need some sleep. Goodnight, Mike."

Mike accepted her hand and stood. "Goodnight, Sam," he said softly, his eyes never leaving hers.

As Sam walked towards her bedroom, her heart was still racing. Her thoughts were a jumble, but one thing was clear: Mike's presence had brought something new and exciting into her life. Something that both terrified and thrilled her. As she entered her bedroom, she cast one last glance at Mike, who was still standing in the living room, then closed the door behind her and tried to sleep.

Mike entered the guest room, turned off the light, and lay down on the bed. He stared at the ceiling, lost in thought about how he had ended up here. He was heading home when he saw the glowing lights of the diner and, despite not being hungry, drove over there. It felt as though something had guided him. He knew Sam lived in Colorado Springs, but it had completely slipped his mind. To be honest, he hadn't thought about her in almost a year. At first, he was preoccupied with wondering what had happened to her and if she was okay. He had tried to reach out a few times, but she never responded. He could only assume she was processing things in her own way.

He vaguely remembered that Sam's mother was battling cancer, but since they were never those "talk-about-everything" kind of friends, he wasn't fully aware of the severity of the situation. His heart ached for her. Not only was he alone, but so was Sam. Mike at least had his old dudes and casual relationships. After Jessica, he struggled to find his place. Distrustful of himself, he only sought out casual encounters, something he was good at. Yet even these came with issues. Despite starting fresh with several women, there were always those who drove him crazy. They wanted more, they wanted love, which he was unable to reciprocate. That quickly sapped his enthusiasm.

He found some solace in the fact that his behavior around Sam might be due to his long absence from intimate relationships. And for him, that was significant. He hadn't really thought about the lack until now, but remembering Sam, with her sweet smile, hair wrapped in a towel and in her pajamas, made him realize that perhaps dreaming wasn't out of the question after all.