Extraits

Je souris et lui fis un petit signe. C’était Sam. Putain, ça faisait tellement longtemps. Elle se mit à courir, et j’accélérai le pas. Le regard brillant, la bouche entrouverte, elle se jeta dans mes bras. Je l’attrapai au vol, me tournai et la plaquai contre le mur. Les jambes flageolantes après le match… et du fait de la voir, sans doute, je manquais d’équilibre. Fermant les yeux, je lui déposai un baiser sur le front et l’étreignis de toutes mes forces. À son tour, elle me prit dans ses bras et se blottit contre moi.

J’étais avec Sam. J’étais chez moi.

— Les nanas… toutes pareilles. Si on n’écoute pas assez, elles deviennent dingues. Ta copine est comme ça ?

— Nan, souris-je. C’est moi qui dois pousser Sam à parler.

Drew et Matteo parurent surpris. Mon colloc, lui, pouffa de rire.

— Sérieux ? C’est toi qui parles, dans votre couple ?

— Tu ne le croiras pas, mais, oui.

Matteo continua de hurler de rire en se tapant la cuisse.

— C’est dingue, mec. Il faut vraiment que je la connaisse, ta copine.

Les paroles de Tate me hantaient depuis trois mois. Elles pouvaient tout détruire. J'avais déjà perdu une famille, je ne voulais pas en perdre une autre. Ça bousillerait tout si le frère de mon âme sœur m'aimait. Alors que je repensais à ces mots, assise sur le lit, en regardant Mason dormir, les larmes me montaient aux yeux.

— SAM, fouille-cul ! Ramène-toi par ici !

J’étouffai un rire quand Malinda lui rétorqua sur un ton exaspéré :

— FOUILLE-CUL ? TU CRIES ENCORE APRÈS MA FILLE, ET JE VAIS T’APPRENDRE, MOI, CE QUE C’EST QU’UN FOUILLE-CUL ! C’est le tien qui va prendre quelque chose et, crois-moi, tu t’en souviendras !

- Tu ne peux pas nier l'amour qui existe entre ton futur beau-frère et ton autre futur beau-frère, moi, donc. On forme tous une seule et grande famille. Lien entre Frères de Race. Logique. 

Mon dieu, j'avais tant besoin de lui. Le téléphone, ce n'était pas assez. Sa présence, elle, m'aurait comblée. Il aurait été là, avec moi, tout près de moi. Mais, non...

- Je t'aime.

- Je t'aime aussi.

Il parut hésiter, puis ajouta :

- Sois forte, Sam.

Je crus défaillir.

- Je sais que tu l'es déjà, continua-t-il, mais ça ne doit pas te faire peur. Sois toi-même, celle que tu es à l'intérieur.

Tu ne perdras rien.

Il marqua une pause puis enchaîna :

- Tu ne perdras personne.

Je venais à peine de le rencontrer, mais mon instinct me disait que Park Sebastian ne promettrait rien de bon.

Quelque chose me disait que ce type pouvait nuire à notre amitié.

Seul l'avenir le dirait.

Nate nous rejoignit plus tard, moins stressé... et nettement moins sobre.

Sam et Logan me manquaient.

“Gotcha.” Putting the beer on his desk, she took a can with her and then hollered from inside, “Help yourself. Something’s telling me you need to get lit tonight.”

I had already taken one, but she was right. I took another.

Mason had a couch and loveseat on one side of his room. His desk had been custom made into the wall, between a small closet and his bigger closet door. His king-sized bed was set in the corner, on a slight pedestal.

I sunk down on one of the couches when Heather came out. She gazed around and whistled. “Shit. It boggles my mind that this is just one of his rooms. He’s got like eight hundred, right? His mom’s house. His dad’s. At his college. Yours. Where else?” She pointed to me with her beer can. “That’s right, that one penthouse thing you told me he took you to. The lifestyle of the rich and dicks.”

“Mason’s not a dick.”

“Yes, he is.” She laughed as she sunk down on his desk chair and straddled it, facing me. “But he’s not to you or to anyone he loves and that’s why he’s so damn hot.”

I fiddled with the tab on my beer can. In that moment, I missed him so goddamn much. A wave of longing rolled over me, suffocating me. My throat swelled and I forgot about Tate’s words for a moment. I could feel Mason’s arms around me. I could feel his hard chest as I rested my head there and I could even feel the soft graze of his fingers as he tucked a strand of hair behind my hair, then dropping a soft and delicate kiss to my forehead.

Indeed I did. When I got there, Sam was huddled against my headboard. Her arms were wrapped around her knees and she was hugging them to her chest. She was staring across the room at Matteo, who looked frozen in place on his own bed. When I saw he was wearing a shirt and shorts, I was relieved. He preferred to be naked or boxers-only most of the time.

“Sam?”

She jerked her head up. Her eyes got big and she threw herself at me. “Mason.” She came in hard, wrapping her arms around my neck and she clung to me.

I soothed a hand down her back, pressing a kiss to her neck. “What’s wrong?”

Matteo stood up and motioned for my attention. He gestured to his overnight bag and picked up his keys, then he pointed to the door. I nodded, knowing he’d be sleeping at George’s for the night. When he left and closed the door behind him, I wrapped my arms tighter around her and breathed her in. Finally. It was just Sam and me. No one else. No college. No high school. We were alone.

I sunk down on my bed and Sam adjusted so she was straddling me, sitting on my lap. As she pulled back so she could look at me, a soft sigh left her. As did a lone tear. It streaked down her cheek and slid to the curve of her jaw. I brushed some of her hair back, my fingers threading through into her hair and I held her in place. Breathing the sight of her in, I asked, “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, coming back in to press into my neck.

“Sam?” I frowned. Cupping the back of her head, I held her in place, sheltering her, and the other stroked down to her hip. I pulled her in closer. All the old emotions were there, raging to get free. That surprised me, but it shouldn’t. It was her. She unleashed everything that was real inside of me. At the realization, I must’ve tensed.

She drew back. “What’s wrong?”

“You.”

“What?” She frowned.

“No. Not like that.” I scooped her up and moved so I was against the headboard. I pulled her back into me, savoring the feel of her pressed against me. She was always so tight and trimmed from her running. I felt her muscles move as she readjusted to get comfortable. Her legs opened and she seemed to sink further down on me. I could tell she’d been running more. She was stronger.

“Like what then?”

“College is different.” I cursed. “I’m the new guy, but I’m the target.”

“What do you mean?”

I smiled at her. Shit. I loved her. She would have no idea how much. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, I cupped the side of her face and held her there. She was in the palm of my hand. When she closed her eyes and rested there, her trust and love hit me full force. I was taken aback. I had felt it before, but every time was like a new day, a new ray of sunshine. It was so raw and blinding. It struck right to my soul.

“You saved me.”

She tensed, just slightly, and looked at me. “What?”

“You did.” She would never know either. A part of me was scared to let her know the full extent. “I was such an asshole before you moved in. I hated my dad. I loved my mom, but I was so damn angry with her too. It was me and Logan. Then Tate, all the bullshit there. You have no idea. I didn’t give a shit who I pissed off. I wanted to piss people off and then you.” I blinked in shock, the memories coming back to me. “You were different, Sam. You intrigued me. You calmed me and then you became like air to me. I had to be around you, be in the same room as you. As long as I was, I could function fine, but then that wasn’t enough.” My hand curved into her hip and I pulled her tight to me.

“Mason?” She brushed a hand through my hair. It was a loving caress and I closed my eyes, savoring it.

“It’s like you’re a blanket. You warm me against the world. Just you being here, I feel sheltered and protected. I can turn off the ‘get through it’ mode and be me. When I’m not with you, I survive. When I’m with you, I live.” Shit. It was so fucking true as those words stumbled from me. I shook my head. “Don’t say a damn word of this to Logan. I’ve turned into a chick. I’d never hear the end of it.”

She shook her head. Pulling back, she pressed her hands to my chest and her tears were blinding her.

I frowned. “Sam?” I cupped the side of her face again, cradling her. “What’s wrong?”

She pressed her forehead into my chest and the sobs came. Her shoulders shook. She held onto me as I held onto her, but she cried. Then she cried some more. I didn’t push. I waited and I caressed her back, but this wasn’t normal Samantha. She kept things suppressed and locked down. She was letting it out. I didn’t know if I should be happy or concerned. Then I shut myself up and I held her. It was as simple as that.