Written by: Kari Gorsuch

As Dean kept the door from closing on the tow truck to talk to Eve for a moment, I opened the rear door to the Impala, leaning in to rearrange Eve and I's gear. I knew for a fact that I wasn't going to be able to sit upright for eleven straight hours. Not unless I was driving, and seeing how the Mustang was out of commission for a while, that wasn't going to happen.

Digging into my bag from the room, I verified my 1911 was properly holstered before laying it back into my bag. Glancing back out of the Impala, all I noticed was Sam staring at me. More specifically, he was staring at my ass.

I froze for a moment, caught off guard by the intensity of Sam's gaze. My hands paused mid-motion in the bag as I straightened up slightly, smirking to myself. Seriously?

I turned my head just enough to catch his expression- eyes wide as if he'd just realized he'd been caught. He quickly averted his gaze, his face turning a light shade of red.

"See something you like, Sam?" I teased, a playful grin tugging at the corner of my lips. I leaned against the Impala, crossing my arms over his shirt as I waited for his response.

He stumbled over his words, his composure slipping. "I-uh- I wasn't... I wasn't staring- just making sure you didn't need help!" he finally blurted, gesturing to the bags inside the impala.

I raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, and let out a soft laugh. "Uh-huh. Sure, Sam. Whatever you say," I gave him a slow once-over, enjoying the way his blush deepened.

Dean's voice broke the moment, "What's going on here?"

I turned to face him as he opened the drivers door. "Nothing," I said innocently, though the grin I shot Sam said otherwise. "Just making sure that I have room to stretch on this drive."

Sliding into the backseat, I leaned back slightly in the seat, just in time to watch Bobby pull out of the parking lot with Eve riding shotgun.

Dean climbed into the driver's seat, glancing in the rearview mirror, his expression turning serious. "Are you going to be okay back there?"

I met Dean's eyes in the rearview mirror, noting the concern etched in his features. His tone wasn't teasing or sarcastic for once- just genuine.

"I'll manage," I replied, offering a small smile. "I'm not exactly running a marathon back here."

Dean nodded, starting the engine and pulling the Impala smoothly out of the parking lot. The rumble of the car was comforting and scariliy familiar for the short amount of time we'd known the guys.

The car fell into a comfortable silence as we followed Bobby out to the highway, the hum of the motor filling the space. Dean reached for the radio, scrolling through static until he landed on a classic rock station.

"Eleven hours of this?" I asked, leaning forward to rest my arms on the back of the bench seat.

Dean grinned without looking back. "You're damn right. Best music there is."

Sam sighed, leaning his head back against the seat. "Great. Let the torture begin."

I chuckled softly, "That depends, are we talking Black Sabbath, AC/DC music? Or Deff Leppard?

Sam groaned as Dean launched into a tirade about Rock bands, and who was the best song writer of the 80s and 90s.

"Well it's obviously Bob Seger-" Deans declaration earned an immediate groan from Sam, who lifted his head to glare at his brother.

"Bob Seger? Really? You're just saying that because of Night moves."

"Hey!" Dean shot back, turning to glnace at Sam with mock offense, "Night Moves is a classic, you philistine. And it's not just that- Seger's whole catalog is gold. The man knew how to tell a story."

"Right," I cut in, grinning. "Because Old Time Rock and Roll is such a lyrical masterpiece."

Dean huffed, throwing me a quick look in the mirror. "You're just proving my point, Bri. It's Old Time Rock and Roll! It's timeless! And don't even try to tell me you don't know every word."

I shrugged, smirking. "I might, but that doesn't mean I'll admit it."

Sam laughed quietly, shaking his head. "I think the debate's already over if we're talking about timeless. Led Zeppelin takes that crown. Hands down."

Dean let out a snort."Zeppelin? Sure, they've got some hits, but half their stuff is just Robert Plant screeching while Page plays whatever the hell he feels like. Seger's music has soul, Sammy."

Sam rolled his eyes and gestured toward the radio. "Soul? Dean, Seger's entire discography is just nostalgia for boomers. Zeppelin defined a generation. Stairway to Heaven? Kashmir? Those songs are masterpieces."

Dean scoffed, glancing at this brother with a smirk. "Masterpieces? They're overplayed. You can't even walk into a guitar shop without some kid butchering Stairway. Seger's the everyman's poet, Sam. He's real. You feel his songs in your bones."

Sam flipped open Dean's box of cassette tapes, his fingers rifling through the collection with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. "Alright, let's see what we're working with here," he muttered.

Dean shot him a warning glance, "Be careful with those, Sam. That's not just a box of tapes- it's a legacy."

"Legacy, huh?" Sam pulled a tape, reading the label aloud. "'Metallica: Ride the Lightning.' Okay, respectable." He set it aside and continued digging. "'Creedence Clearwater Revival'? Not bad." he pulled another one, squinting at Dean. "'ABBA's Greatest Hits'? Seriously, Dean?"

Dean's ears turned a little pink, but he played it off with a smirk. "Hey, don't knock ABBA. Dancing Queen is a damn anthem."

I burst out laughing, leaning back in the seat. "Oh, I'm not judging Dean," I said between chuckles. "It's just... ABBA? I didn't peg you for the disco type."

Sam looked like he was enjoying himself far too much as he pulled another tape from the box. "'The Best of Bob Seger.' And here we go." He held it up triumphantyly, waving it in Dean's direction. "Your holy grail."

Dean reached over and snatched it out of Sam's hand. "Damn right it is. And you know what? We're listening to it." He jammed the tape into the player with exaggerated flair, the opening chords to Night Moves filling the car.

I groaned dramatically, leaning my head back against the seat. "Eleven hours of Bob Seger. Kill me now."

Dean grinned in triumph, turning up the volume just enough to drown out any further complaints. "Buckle up, kids. You're about to get a real education in music."

Sam leaned back, rolling his eyes but letting a smile creep onto his face. "Yeah, an education in dad rock."

Dean pointed a finger at him without taking his eyes off the road. "Watch it, Sammy. Respect the classics."

I caught Dean's eye as I sang the next portion of Night Moves, word for word.

"Oooh Dean's got a guilty pleasure!"I laughed as Night Moves ended, and Pour Some Sugar on Me started playing immediately after. "I thought this was a Best of Bob Seger tape?!"

Dean's eyes shot to the rearview mirror, his lips twitching as he tried to suppress a grin. "What the hell?!" He shot a quick glance at the tape deck, as if it might have betrayed him. "This... this wasn't me! I swear!"

I laughed loudly, teasing. "Uh-huh, sure, Dean. You're telling me you didn't sneak some Def Leppard just to mess with us?"

Sam snorted from the front seat, shaking his head. "So, we're playing Pour Some Sugar on Me, now? Seriously Dean?"

Dean groaned, trying to ignore the playful banter. "I don't even know how that got in there. You two need to learn to appreciate a good song when you hear it." He turned the volume up even more as if to assert his authority over the situation.

I grinned, singing along to the chorus, my voice teasing. "C'mon, Dean! Looks like you're a sucker for cheesey rock anthems, huh? Don't worry, so is Eve."

Dean playfully glared at me, "I'm not denying it, but c'mon, it's classic! This is the good stuff. The real anthems."

I winked and kept singing, leaning into the fun of it. "I'm sure Eve would love to hear you admit that. Might even make her think you've got some taste."

"Speaking of Eve..." Sam interjected, turning down Deff Leppard as he replaced his elbow up on the passenger door window. "...looks like you guys made up."

"If we made up, she'd be riding with us, not Bobby." Dean snarked, his grip tightening on the wheel.

I shot Dean a glance, noticing the subtle shift in his mood. "Touchy subject?" I asked, my tone lighter to keep the mood from getting too heavy.

Dean let out a frustrated sigh, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. "It's not that simple, Bri. You know how it is."

I smiled, "I do know, Dean. She's forgiven you- but she definitely hasn't forgotten. And she won't- not for a while."

Dean's jaw tightened at my words, but he didn't say anything for a long moment, just focusing on the road ahead. I could see the storm brewing in his expression, the frustration mixing with something deeper- something like regret or guilt.

Sam glanced between us, his voice softer this time. "You know she's not the only one with scars, right?" He looked at Dean, then in the backseat at me, a quiet understanding in his gaze. "We all carry something- hers just seems to be the most upfront."

I nodded, agreeing with Sam's words. "Just give her some time, Dean. But don't walk away from it, or her. She's worth fighting for."

When Dean didn't reply, I laid down in the backseat, my hip starting to scream at me for sitting in one position for too long. Shifting in the seat, I tried to find a more comfortable position, but the pain in my ribs made it nearly impossible.

Sam glanced over the seat at me, his eyes flickering from my hips to my eyes. "You okay?"

I nodded, finally finding a position that wasn't hell on my body. "I'm good, I murmured, trying to downplay the pain as much as I could. But I could see the doubt in Sam's eyes as he kept watching me.

"You sure?" He asked, his voice full of concern.

I gave him a half-smile, attempting to brush it off. "Yeah, just a little sore. I'll live."

Sam didn't seem convinced, but he didn't push it. He settled back into his seat, staring out the window as the miles ticked by.

The rhythmic sound of the tires against the road became almost hypnotic, and I closed my eyes, trying to relax to the sound and hopefully fall asleep. Every time I got close to falling asleep, the Impala hit a rough patch of road, or a pothole, or some kind of dip in the road that jerked the whole car, setting my ribs on fire.

After three hours of attempting to sleep, I sat up, rubbing my eyes.

Sam glanced at me, his brow furrowed with concern when he noticed me stirring. "You alright?"

I winced as I straightened, trying to ignore the sharp pang in my side. "Yeah, just... Couldn't sleep," I muttered, glancing out the window. The sun was settling, casting the road and surrounding area in a golden red light.

"We're going to be stopped soon for fuel, if you need a break," Sam shifted in his seat and glanced at me again.

"Or coffee. You've got to be awake for that though. We don't need you snoring back there."

I rolled my eyes, though a smile tugged at my lips. "Who's snoring? Groaning, maybe, due to your horrible taste in music and driving skills."

Dean just shot me a look that clearly said he wasn't buying it. "We both know you've fallen asleep on Sam a few times already." jabbing where he thought it would get a rise out of me.

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, rubbing my hands together quickly to try and get some warmth in them. "You want to know why I fall asleep on him?" I grinned, leaning forward to press my ice cold hands to the back of Dean's neck. "I'm fucking cold. I'm always fucking cold."

Dean flinched at the sudden chill from my hands on his neck, jerking slightly in his seat. "Jesus, Bri! What the hell?" He grumbled, swatting my hands away.

I laughed, pulling my hands back and hugging them to my chest. "Told you. Always cold. Sam's a walking furnace."

Dean just rolled his eyes, pulling his phone out and call ahead to Bobby's tow truck, only to inform him about a fuel, to which he agreed and the two vehicles pulled off onto a an exit and into a Mavrick's gas station.

"There's my favorite Bitch!" I cheered as Dean and Sam ducked out of the front seat and Eve gently lowered herself to the ground, running over to slide into the Driver's seat to greet me. "How's riding with Bobby?"

"I love him." Eve smirked, looking over as Bobby and Sam met half way between the two vehicles. "How about with these two?" she chimed, catching Dean's suspicious gaze as she ducked out of the Driver's seat. "I told you Dean, I could be gentle with her."

"Not like I would be with you." Dean winked, earning a narrowed eyebrow from her as I rose out of the driver's side door, over the pile of bags. Noticing this, Dean commented while gesturing to the passenger side of the Impala where he stood, "You could have just -"

"- I know!" I growled, playfully as Eve caught me before I could collapse. "Go ahead, I'm stretching my legs." Eve smiled, leaning me against the Impala as she took off across the parking lot and disappeared into the store. I watched as Dean watched after her, tightening his jaw. "Just talk to her when we get there, Dean...communication, honesty that's all she asks for."

Dean grumbled under his breath as he slid the gas pump into the tip of the gas tank of the Impala and did a quick scan of the parking lot before moving into the store after Eve.

I limped around the back of the Impala to keep an eye on the pump as Dean darted after Eve into the store. Leaning back against the Impala, I hugged my arms close to my body as the chill of the evening creeped through Sam's shirt.

Sam wandered back form Bobby's truck, cup of coffee in hand. "I gave Bobby your Uncle's address." Sam's voice broke through my haze of thought as I adjusted myself painfully against the Impala. "He says we can look further into the address, town around said location and his - your bloodline."

"My bloodline?" I rose my eyes off the meter as it climbed. "Why -?"

"- Listen," Sam sudden got serious as he moved to stand in front of me, leaning against the Impala with one arm while the other was gesturing. I realized my only exit was being blocked by the gas pump, but with a sudden nervous surge coming over me, it melted away quickly as he spoke. "What we're about to uncover here is a huge...and I need you to understand something...I'll protect you, no matter what or who comes our way - just like I did with Jared."

I shifted uncomfortably at the mention of his name.

"Sam, you're being a little too -" I started, but he took my right cheek as I watched his eyes flicker between mine.

"- I mean it, Bri...when we get into this, no matter what you see or hear...stay close." He exhaled sharply, obviously hoping that every word weighed on me appropriately. I beamed into his beautiful hazel eyes and a wave of fear came over me with how serious he had turned.

For a moment, the world seems to shrink to just the two of us. Sam's eyes held mine, his intensity grounding me, yet filling me with a strange mix of comfort, unease, and something I was not ready to identify. The way he spoke, the weight of his words- it wasn't just about whatever they were hunting when they had come across us. There was more behind it, more to what he wasn't saying, and it scared me in a way I couldn't quite define.

"I'll stay close," I finally said, my voice softer than I inteneded. "But, Sam, you've gotta trust me too. I can handle myself. I've been doing this a long time."

"I know," he said, his thumb brushing against my cheeck before he caught himself and dropped his hand. "I do trust you, Bri. But this... this is different. It's personal, and when things get personal, they can get messy."

Sams words hung in the air between us, heavy with meaning. I couldn't help but feel the weight of his gaze, the mixture of fear and protectiveness behind it. He wasn't just talking about the job, or some danger that we were walking into. He was talking about something deeper- something he wasn't ready to say out loud yet.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry and raw. "Messy, huh?" I tried to lighten the mood, offering a small smile. "You're not exactly painting a reassuring picture here, Sam."

He chuckled softly, the sound warm despite the tension. "Yeah, well, I'm not really in the business of reassurance these days." His eyes flicked toward the store, where Dean and Eve were visible through the windows. "But I mean it, Bri. Stay close."

I nodded, tightening my arms around my chest as the breeze picked up, chilling my skin farther. "I hear you, Sam."

I jumped as the pump clicked, signaling the tank was full. The moment broken, I pulled away to put the nozzle away.

"Are you two having a Hallmark moment back here?" Dean's voice cut through the quiet night as he arroached the car, a bag of snacks in his hand. "I leave you two alone for five minutes..."

Sam straightened and cleared his throat, as if trying to shake off the moment. I exhaled sharply, my cheeks warm, though whether from embarrassment or the intensity of Sam's words, I couldn't say.

"Relax, Dean," I shot back, pulling away from Sam and putting the nozzle away. "We were just talking. Not everything is a soap opera."

Dean arched an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "Talking" Looked more like Sam was giving you his 'I'm the knight in shining armor' speech."

"So, Dean," I asked, changing the subject. "How serious is this whole deal with my Uncle Brad?"

Dean's smirk faltered slightly, glancing between me and Sam. "Serious enough. Could be the end of the world. Bobby's been doing some research, but from what he's gotten from the others, your Uncle wasn't exactly running a lemonade stand."

I frowned, looking back at the store while we waited for Eve and Bobby to return. "So, what? He was some kind of occultist?"

Sam and Dean exchanged glances. "We'll talk about that when we get to Bobby's. There's no unfriendly ears there."

Dean's tone left no room for argument, and I nodded, though a knot of unease settled in my stomach. "Great," I muttered under my breath, walking back around the Impala to the passenger side. "Another family skeleton in the closet. Just what I always wanted."

"... Is a new pillow!" Eve smirked, tossing a pillow at my face. "Figured it might help you sleep."

The pillow hit me square in the face, and I caught it, laughing despite myself. "Gee, thanks, Eve. Just what I always wanted- a portable reminder of the time I fucked up my ribs."

Eve grinned, leaning against Bobby's truck. "Figured you'd need it with your habit of flopping around in the backseat. Can't have you waking up looking like roadkill."

I smiled, holding up the pillow like a trophy. "You're a real humanitarian, Eve. I'll cherish this forever."

Dean's voice cut through the banter as he tapped on the roof of the Impala. "Alright, lovebirds, let's get a move on. Bobby's already going to reem us for wasting time."

"Whose the lovebirds?" I shot, glaring up through the backseat at Dean.

"You and Eve." he smirked back, his green eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Oh, Dean," I smirked evilly, gesturing for Eve to come over. When she got close enough, I reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. "You have no idea."

"Oh, Dean, we've been meaning to tell you." Eve teased, her tone dropping with mock sweetness. "It's serious. And there's no room for you."

I tossed Sam a grin before dipping Eve, making sure we were below where Dean could see, acting like I was kissing her.

"I don't know, Dean. They seem happy without you," Sam laughed, shaking his head.

I pulled us both back upright, our faces red from the move. Laughing at the dumbstruck look on Dean's face, Eve headed back to the tow truck as Sam opened the back door for me to get in.

"See, you did all that, now you're on your own getting back up in that Cab!" Dean growled acrossed the parking lot as he ducked into the driver's seat.

Eve paused for a moment, digging through the bag she had tossed into the cab, before walking back. She stopped short right outside the Driver's window, grabbing Dean's attention as he ignited the Impala to life. I watched as Eve stretched into the cab of the Impala, stretching slowly and twisted at the right angle so her chest was in Dean's direct eye sight, as she ejected the Bob Seger cassette and replaced it with another one.

"For you, asshole. It's Photograph, Pyromania, Deff Leppard...1983. The correct album." winked Eve, before pecking Dean on the cheek and flashing me a wave and disappearing back into the cab of the tow truck, leaving Dean frozen as Deff Leppard began pouring out of the speakers.

Dean sat there, utterly frozen, his jaw slightly slack as the opening chords to Photograph filled the Impala. His face was a mix of shock, disbelief, and something I'd dare call flustered- a rare sight for the man who usually had a snarky comeback for everything Eve did.

Sam turned in his seat, eyebrows raised, clearly trying to process what had just unfolded. He looked at me, then at Dean, then back at me, his lips twitching as though he was holding back a grin.

I couldn't take it anymore. I burst out laughing, clutching my sides to try and avoid the pain from the laughter. "Oh my god. That just happened," I managed between fits of laughter. "She got you, so good!"

Dean finally snapped out of it, his ears visibly red as he glanced at me in the rearview mirror, then back to Sam, who was now grinning outright. "Shut up," Dean muttered, glaring at both of us, but there was no bite behind it.

"Oh, no," I teased, whipping a tear from my eye. "You don't get to walk away from that, Dean. She just owned you. You're not even in the drivers seat of your own car right now!"

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. "Dean, she literally made you speechless. I didn't know that was possible."

I took a deep breath, trying to stop laughing. "Guess all you have to do to shut him up is put a pair of tits in his face."

"And peck him on the cheek." Sam added, teasingly poking his own cheek as Dean's hard eyes burned a hole through his Brother.

I chuckled softly, adjusting the pillow behind me as I got comfortable in the back seat again. Laying back against it, the pillow offered some support so that while the Impala still hit some bumps, they didn't cause as much agony.

The rhythmic rumble slowly rocked me to sleep, the long day of banter and music arguments finally taking a toll. A harsh jolt woke me up as the Impala turned off of the smooth pavement onto a gravel path. I blinked a few times, my blurry vision landing on a weathered sign that read Singer Salvage Yard.

"She lives," Sam teased, glancing back at me as I leaned forward, resting my arms on the front seat.

Dean flinched as my hands appeared in his peripheral vision. "Don't do that," he muttered, shooting me a side-eye.

"This is Singer Salvage Yard," Sam said, motioning toward the sprawling chaos outside. "Bobby's place."

I took in the dust, the mess, and the towering piles of cars, my eyes gleaming at the sight of aged, rusted vehicle royalty scattered throughout the yard.

"This place is incredible," I said, my excitement barely contained.

Dean smirked, pulling the Impala to a stop opposite the tow truck and shifting it into park. "Yeah, it's got a certain charm. Just watch where you step- Bobby's not exactly OSHA-compliant."

"How many times did we stop for gas and no one woke me up?" I asked, stretching as I climbed out of the backseat.

Dean leaned against the door, smirking quietly. "Couple times. Though't you could use the beauty sleep."

Eve hopped down from the tow truck, and Dean walked over to offer her a hand, though she swatted it away with a playful grin.

"Jesus," Sam muttered with a small smile, sliding an arm around me to help steady me as my hip protested the movement.

I tossed a longing look towards the Mustang, which was still strapped to the back of Bobby's tow truck. I couldn't help it, I wanted to start fixing her now. The flats wouldnt take too long- the paint job though... "But.. Beauty-"

Dean shot me a sideways glance, raising an eyebrow. "You and that Mustang. It's like you're in love with it or something."

I sighed, my gaze still locked on the car. "You would be too, if that car was one of the most important things to you."

"He doesn't understand," Eve chimed, appearing by my side, draping her arm around my shoulders with a longing look mirroring mine. "Unless...the Impala was up there." She gasped dramatically.

"Both of you, inside. The Mustang will be there tomorrow, nothing's going to happen to it." Bobby's voice rang out from the porch, firm but not unkind. He crossed his arms, giving us that look that said, don't argue.

I glared at Dean and Bobby, but there was no heat behind it. I crossed my arms, glancing from Dean to Bobby, both of them giving me that look- the one that said no argument. Eve tugged me towards Bobby, ripping my eyes from Beauty. I couldn't help the sigh that slipped out, even though I was far from annoyed. "Fine."

Crossing the threshold into Bobby's house was like stepping into a new world. The air was thick with the scent of old books, motor oil, and something faintly smoking, as if the house itself had absorbed years of history and work. The floors creaked underfoot, and the walls were cluttered with strange artifacts, tools, and maps that looked as if they'd been pulled from the pages of a conspiracy theorist's dream.

"Bri..." Eve whispered, gesturing forward as we moved slowly through the entryway and entered an office... or library. "...I'm in heaven."

I couldn't help but chuckle, my eyes scanning the room as we stepped deeper into Bobby's domain. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with well-worn volumes that looked like they'd seen decades of use.

Eve's eyes sparkled as she moved closer to the shelves, running a finger along a row of dusty old books. "It's like he's got every monster manual ever written here.." her voice was full of wonder, that quickly turned to annoyance. "How the hell do you find anything in this mess?"

Dean chuckled, "He knows where everything is. Whether it's on the shelf, in the corner, or buried under another book on the floor."

The sound of heavy footsteps echoed from the hallway, and Bobby appeared at the doorway with a glass of whiskey. "You two done inspecting my mess, or are you planning to organize it for me?"

Eve's eyes shined at the prospect. "Can I?!"

"She'll do it too." Bri assured a grinning Bobby.

Bobby gave us a long, skeptical look, but the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips showed he wasn't entirely opposed to the idea. "If you want to organize this place, you're gonna be here for the next decade. I've got piles of crap that I can't even keep track of."

Eve grinned, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "Challenge accepted." She turned to the bookshelves, already eyeing what looked to be the most chaotic section of them. "Where do I even begin?"

"In bed?" Dean shot, grinning.

Bobby raised an eyebrow at Dean's comment, clearly not impressed but not surprised either. "You're real subtle, aren't you, Dean?"

Sam nudged me gently and nodded towards the kitchen- or what I was hoping was a kitchen- and led me out onto the front porch.

"If you're anything like me, Bri..." Sam's voice was low and calm as Is tepeed ahead of him leaning against the railing, taking in the quiet night. "You need silence every now and then. This week's been hell."

I took a deep breath of cool night air, ignoring the ache in my chest, and then laughed softly. "Has it really only been a week?" I asked in disbelief, nearly squealing at the thought.

Sam chuckled, the sound surprisingly warm. "Yeah, Bri. A week."

He moved to stand next to me, giving me a sideways glance. "Where the hell did you two come from?"

I shrugged, still processing everything. "Seperate parts of the country," I said, then caught the look in his eyes and realized what he meant. "We just happened to be at the wrong place at the right time."

I grinned and turned back to face the yard, leaning against the railing. "At least, Dean thinks it was the wrong place.

Sam met my eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips, but he shook his head slightly. "He doesn't really believe that."

I raised an eyebrow, teasing, "Oh, really? Because I think he's convinced."

Sam gave me a soft but serious look. "I don't believe it either. Not for a second."

The air between us grew heavy, thick with unspoken tension. My gaze locked onto his, and for a brief moment, neither of us moved.

Sam took a small step back, clearly intending to leave, but I reached out and gently grabbed his wrist. He stopped and turned back to me, his gaze softening as he registered the contact.

"Stay with me, for a little longer?" I asked, nervously.

Sam's expression softened, the warmth in his eys making the air between us feel a little less suffocating. He didn't hesitate, he just nodded, a small but reassuring smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah. Of course."