Transformers Dark of the Moon by Peter David Read Free Book Online

“You’re killing me! I’m just your American boy toy!” The fact that she laughed carelessly at the characterization certainly didn’t help. “Do you know how demoralizing it is to have saved the world
—twice—
and be groveling for a job?”
    “People don’t know you saved the world, Sam.”
    That much was true. Yes, he’d received the medal, and yes, he’d had his photo op, but the exact nature of his involvement with the Autobots and Decepticons—and the way he had consistently found himself smack in the middle of their eternal pitched battle—had been kept strictly under wraps. During the photo op he’d simply been referred to as a “valued adviser” in the recent ugliness, and even the inscription on his medal was suitably vague.
    Sam had been more than happy to go along with the government’s preference that his participation be kept under the radar. He wasn’t some glory hound seeking the limelight. He didn’t feel the need to get plaudits from crowds. Of all the things Sam had wanted to acquire in his lifetime, celebrity simply wasn’t one of them.
    She was right. People didn’t know.
    And if she’d just dropped it there, it wouldn’t have been an issue.
    But instead Carly’s voice went on to say, “I mean,
I
do. I believe you.”
    Whatever residual sleepiness Sam might have had instantly evaporated when he heard that. He bounded out of bed and went to the bedroom door. The floor was cold beneath his feet, but he didn’t care as he stood in the doorway and called to her, “Whoa! What does that mean?” He grabbed his bathrobe and tossed it on carelessly.
    “What do you mean, what does that mean?” She was in the kitchen, cracking eggs, preparing breakfast. Carly was not a believer in grabbing a muffin at a local doughnut store and calling that a morning meal, which was typically Sam’s method of operation.
    “I mean it makes it sound like you don’t believe me.”
    “How does saying I believe you make it sound like I don’t?” She was using that same tone of both amusement and confusion that she was so adept at.
    “It was just … the way you said it.” The more he spoke, the more ridiculous he sounded even to himself, but he couldn’t help the way he felt.
    “I was just saying I wasn’t there, Sam. I’m sorry. It was a bad choice of words.”
    He was willing to accept that, but still, he was on the defensive and couldn’t pull back from it. “The governmentknows. They could have set me up with something.” He slumped against the door frame and, more to himself than her, muttered, “I should be working with the Autobots.”
    “Well, they paid for your college,” she pointed out. The eggs could now be heard sizzling in the pan. “The president gave you the hero medal.”
    With a sigh, he glanced across the cluttered apartment toward the medal, which was mounted on a plaque on the wall, along with a photograph of Sam shaking hands with the president. They were meticulously cleaned and the only framed objects on the wall that were hanging perfectly level. The amount of reverence he displayed for maintaining those objects was in stark contrast to the general dishevelment in the rest of the apartment.
    “And as I recall,” she continued, “that wasn’t even the highlight of your day.”
    He had to smile at that, sinking back onto the bed and recalling the bizarre circumstances under which he and Carly had met.
    They hadn’t started dating immediately. She had a busy schedule and also traveled quite a bit, plus she was seeing somebody else. But he’d been persistent and the other guy hadn’t known what he had and was dumb enough to let her go, so eventually they’d gotten together. Or at least they’d gotten as close as Carly had allowed them to get.
    Minutes later, when Carly came back to him, having eaten her freshly scrambled eggs and now in the process of putting on makeup, he was still sitting on the edge of the bed, caught up in the pleasant recollection of