over here.
"Thanks. You look nice, too." I toss it out there quickly and find myself immediately regretting it. He looks down at my shaking hands, which only adds to the lingering awkwardness. I had hoped he wouldn't notice how nervous I am.
"Can I get you a drink? We have beer and wine coolers." He stands up and looks over at the cooler.
Relieved that he was only noticing the fact that I was without a drink, I sigh and force myself to smile. "Sure. I'll have a wine cooler. Thanks, Devon," I say trying not to sound too nervous.
When Devon slips away, I realize that my stomach is not doing summersaults with him the way it was before when I was talking to Sam. Even Trevor was making me feel certain things that I don't completely understand. I wonder if I really am into Devon like I had originally thought. This is the first time I've been around him outside of school. Maybe, I'm just distracted with Sam and Trevor being here .
I feel warm strong hands on my shoulders, massaging me. The sensation his touch elicits is nothing short of exhilarating. Sam leans in close to my ear and almost whispers to me, "Relax, Laila. You need to loosen up. Your muscles are so tight."
He continues rubbing my shoulders, making my insides erupt. If only he knew just how loose he makes me feel inside . I know it sounds like a cliché, but it really is as if fireworks are going off in every direction inside of me right now.
"So, how is it going? With your man, I mean." The moment his fingers leave my bare shoulders, I feel a sense of loss. He lies down on the lounge chair that Devon was sitting on before, and tucks his arms behind his head. He has kind of a stupid grin on his face as he waits for me to answer.
"I'm not really sure." How do I tell Sam that Devon isn't doing it for me and it's probably entirely his fault? Every time Sam touches me, my whole body explodes with sensations I don't understand.
"Oh yeah? Well, don't rush into anything if you aren't sure. You deserve to be with a guy that makes you feel special." Sam is staring at me in a way that makes me want to run my hands through his wavy, sandy-blond hair, and pull him to my lips. Where did that come from?
"Here you go, Laila." I am almost disappointed to hear Devon's shaky voice. He hands me my cooler and looks around for a place to sit. Sam makes no attempt to move, though.
I scoot over on the chaise lounge chair and pat the cushion next to me. "You can sit here," I say while studying Sam's reaction. I catch a brief glimpse of something that could be jealousy in Sam's eyes, but it disappears so quickly that I wonder if I had just imagined it. Why would Sam be jealous of Devon?
This ought to be interesting. If Devon can't make me forget about Sam when he is sitting this close to me, I will know that my so-called crush has fizzled. Devon hesitates for a second, but then he sits down. His knee is lightly grazing my thigh, but I don't feel anything.
Sam is watching us closely. I wonder if he is trying to read my body language to see if I react to Devon the way I do to him. It's almost like Sam knows exactly how I feel. Am I really that obvious? It would be extremely embarrassing if he did know, and doesn't feel the same way about me, as if I just have some stupid childish crush on him. At least he is back to calling me Laila instead of lil sis . That is something .
"Hey man. I'm Sam. Laila's . . . friend. I go to NEU ." I am surprised when he introduces himself as my friend without even mentioning Kyle.
"Hey. I'm Devon. I go to school with Laila."
I am trying to read Sam's expression, but he isn't revealing anything and it is driving me crazy. Devon leans back, awkwardly slipping his arm behind me. I still don't feel anything when his fingers land on the small of my back.
Nobody is saying anything and the silence is maddening. I sip my drink and try not to stare at Sam. It's kind of hard because his eyes haven't left me since he first sat down.
After a few minutes,
Learning to Kill: Stories