Getting Chased

Chapter 21

I hear the alarm go off, and I hear Sam smacking his palm against it until it shuts off. I peek out of one eye, glancing at the sprinkle of snowflakes that float through the December air beyond my window. A light dusting is stuck to the glass, making me smile at the idea of wearing a sweater.

Sam steps around to my side of the bed, leaning down. I shut my eyes speedily, pretending to still be asleep. His breath curls in my hair, fingers tracing the line of my cheekbone. He kisses me softly, rubbing his hands on my cold arms that made their way above our blanket in the middle of the night.

"Good morning, Ava," he whispers, trailing his hand along the line of my collarbone. I pretend to still be sleeping. "I know you're awake; I saw you looking out the window."

I smile, caught, and open my eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about." He narrows his eyes at me. "Good morning?"

Sam laughs, delivering a peck before exiting the room. I fall back against my pillow like a satisfied, lovesick little girl.

Then, a thought hits me.

It doesn't shock me at all. I don't feel surprised, I don't try to deny it. If anything, I was anticipating it.

I love him.

The thought doesn't make me think deeply about my feelings, because I had already known it was there. I knew I loved him for a while. It simply just got put into words now. I may have even loved him two weeks ago when I saw his crumpled body squished on the ground at Thanksgiving. I may have loved him last week when he held me in his arms when I had a meltdown about how badly I needed a drink.

I think there's a very good chance that I loved him then, too. Sam is audibly sighing at the amounts of emails he's received overnight from his boss.

Sam stays here most nights because my apartment building is conveniently located closer to the subway station than his. But I stayed at his place on Monday, days ago.

I sigh, pulling myself off of the bed in lazy movements. Sam glances around the corner of my door.

"I made you cereal," he chirps with a smile, giving me all of his positive energy even though I just heard his exhausted sighs.

I nearly smack myself in the face, because how could I not love this guy? Then, I follow him to my kitchen counter with light footsteps.

He's set up two bowls of Lucky Charms on the countertop. I take my seat on the barstool, and Sam goes to get the milk for our breakfast.

He opens my refrigerator  that is practically empty without all the bottles and cans that used to take up residence there. Then, he puts the box of cereal back in my barren cupboard. The lack of alcohol surrounding me is insane, but I love the feeling even more than it drives me crazy.

I eat away at my bowl of cereal as Sam rants about his stupid boss whom I have labeled as "All Negative Adjectives" in my contacts folder in my brain. I nod and egg him on, watching in bewilderment as he gets more frustrated, yet alleviated, with every word.

Sam finally breathes. "Whoa. That was a lot. I didn't even know I felt that way."

I smile and nod, continuing to stuff my face. I love you. It's like a pounding in the front of my brain that I can't get rid of.

It's funny how you don't get a sign; it just hits you. At least, that's how it happened for me. Nobody wanted to set up a yield or slow down sign as I went racing down the road. Then, I flew right off the edge. The cops at the scene will simply say "Oops" and I'll be just another one of those people who fell in love.