L.W.T.B.B Copyright © 2012-2015 xXMopelXx All Rights Reserved.

Rewritten version of this chapter posted - August 3rd 2015.

I'm three days early but consider this my early birthday present gift to you guys ;) Hope you enjoy it! This is one of my favorite chapters so far and I hope you enjoy it, too! Remember to VOTE and COMMENT! Happy reading. xo

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

{ Chapter 8 } : In My Corner, He Is

"This is good therapy for all of us."

Layla directed a glare at Gabby, and I ignored them as I took a sip of my captain and coke - a harsh change from my usual plain soda.

Gabby let her hands slaps loudly against her thighs in defeat. "I give up. I'm trying really hard here, but you guys are leaving me nothing to work with."

Against my better judgement and protests, I allowed myself to be dragged to Danny's Grill again. Not that I didn't want to hang out with my friends. I just didn't want to be here specifically. I'd resulted in an alcoholic beverage to make the night bearable. A real shocker, considering the last time I had a drop of alcohol was almost a year ago.

For so long I'd been a lone wolf that now big crowds made me anxious and hard to be around.

"There's nothing to fix," Layla said and shot a curly fry at Gabby. "We were best friends then, and we will always be friends."

Then Layla proceeded to give me an amending smirk that was a little on the guilty side as she brushed her shoulder length hair aside.

The second Gabby heard of the little fallout between Layla and I, she'd taken it upon herself to make everything right. Even though Layla and I were back on good terms, she'd deemed this little outing necessary. As far as I was concerned "Best Friend Therapy" was some bullshit she'd made up on the spot so she could force us to a bar and hunt down all the available meat. No doubt about her intentions whatsoever.

Nothing had changed though. Just like Layla said. We were still the same. Gabby was being crass and Layla was getting peeved. I was brooding. The usual.

"So want to talk about your latest boy toy, Lay?" Gabby sing-songed.

Heat engulfed a better part of Layla's face. "What are you talking about?"

Gabriela surveyed the crowd over the rim of her glass as she took a healthy swig, not meeting Layla's stare. "Joshua Brown."

I bit my lip, deciding not to jump in. If I added more fuel to the fire right now, it would only create a bigger fire. Gabby was an inferno on her own.

"How's fucking him?" she asked casually, still pushing her luck. Poor Layla looked like she was about to puke her guts out all over the table. "And please, don't even think of sparing me the dets. Let me live vivaciously through you. Put an end to my dry spell, Lays. I'm begging you."

"I haven't...slept with him."

Gabby made her eyes mock-wide. "No kidding. Well that's a goddamn shame. I came close to screwing him once, did I ever tell you that?"

This time I almost spat out my drink . Layla blanched and her eyes narrowed a fraction. Then Gabriela laughed good-naturedly and the tension coiled tightly between us unfurled.

"Kidding again." Gabriela's eyes crinkled at the corners as she grinned deviously. "I fucked his friend."

"I'm relieved, shithead." Layla rolled her eyes and shoved Gabby just a little in the shoulder - enough to move her an inch away from the bench. "And I have no interest in hearing this friend of his that you slept with."

"Oh, there was no sleeping involved..."

I drowned out the rest of their conversation. My eyes roamed the crowded pub. The regular patrons lingered by the bar side and as per usual, I spotted a huge lot of senior students from Northwind High. Most were busy playing billiard and poker whilst some mingled over drinks. Danny's Grill was rumbling with lively energy.

My eyes automatically fixated on a pool table by the corner of the room - the same one where I last saw Sam. At the thought of him, my gaze frantically searched his amongst a sea of bodies. But he wasn't here tonight. And why that thought filled me with disappointment, I didn't even want to freaking know.

I was supposed to be avoiding him. Hell, I was avoiding him. But the one place I expected to see him, and he wasn't even there. He kept popping up everywhere I was, and now he was popping up in my thoughts, too. This wasn't good.

While I was in the middle of debating why thinking about Samuel Adams wasn't a good thing, Gabby's amusement filled voice trickled through and swiftly cut my train of thoughts.

"So, Anna." Her and Layla were watching me with matching expression. Up-to-no-good expressions with raised eyebrows, that is. "You fucked any new hot guys lately?"

* * *

I was by the bar when my second glass of Captain and Coke was done. My two best friends had studied me, dumfounded, when I quickly excused myself and weaved my way across the packed pub so I could get a refill. The truth was that I had two extremities; either I didn't drink, or I drank too much. There was no in between. White or Black. No grey.

Tonight I seemed to be leaning more towards the latter after a year of drinking-hiatus.

When the bartender who's name tag read Cade - an extremely cute one who was a little on the moody side - had refilled my glass, I felt a soft touch on my shoulder. At first I'd ignored it and chalked it down to a figment of my imagination. Until the pressure grew firmer. I was forced to shoot a glance over my shoulder.

A guy stood behind me. He was familiar. Very familiar. It took a few seconds for it to all come rushing back to me.

"Anna," he said pleasantly, and a small smile curled his lips.

I blinked. Then a grin stretched over my lips as soon as realization sunk in. "Troy." He extended his arms like we were good friends and the gesture automatically put me at ease. I looped my arms around his neck and pulled him in for a quick hug.

"This is the last place where I expected to see you," Troy said when we withdrew. 

He was still smiling and then it hit me like a ton of bricks - I left him. At Joshua's party, I left him when he went to go get us drinks.

The easiness flipped over and an uncomfortable silence flitted between us. My lips pursed and I resisted the urge to face palm myself in front of him. "Oh, God. Troy, I'm so sorry about Friday night. I... I was waiting and then..." Then a boy who's name rhymes with a beer brand snagged my attention.

His happy demeanor didn't falter by my words. If anything, he looked like he brightened even more, although I felt awkward with where this conversation was headed. A hand scrapped over his stubble peppered jaw at the same time that a jet black lock fell over his forehead. "Don't sweat it. I saw what happened. Don't blame you for not wanting to stay."

I bit my lip and peered at him through my lashes. "I really did want to stay and talk to you."

He smirked smugly and shrugged a shoulder. "I know. So let's resume now. Let me buy you a drink." He gestured with his chin towards the bartender who was now cleaning the counter with a rag. "That is... if you aren't already drunk."

He was teasing me and the tension evaporated. I wasn't drunk... maybe veering towards tipsy. My tolerance sucked lady balls after not drinking for so long. I raised my glass and flirted right back. "Can't do that." And then I embarrassingly swayed on my feet as a particular rowdy patron elbowed me. Troy steadied me. "I already fulfilled my quota for the night - three glasses of this heavenly beverage."

Heavenly beverage? Had I really just said that? Oh, God. Abort mission. Abort fucking mission, Anna.

Troy didn't seem to mind my lameness - or my slight tipsiness for that matter. If anything, it further amused him. I was beginning to think that nothing could upset this guy.

"Three drinks only?" He feigned shock, then clicked his tongue in a mocking manner. "You disappoint me, Columbus. And here I'd thought you'd be the kind of girl to have shots lined up."

I licked my lips. "Do I sense a challenge here?"

Troy's eyes fell to my lips and they lingered there as he whispered, "Maybe."

"Bring it on," I said.

Troy grinned mischievously and I looked into his eyes, realizing that they were a nice dark shade of brown, not like my light brown. Kind of like chocolate. I loved chocolate. I loved the color of his eyes.

"So, what will it be, Columbus?" Troy leaned in, and I noticed that he wasn't that tall. Probably only had two or three inches on me, but I didn't mind. In fact, I kind of liked that we were at the same height. Like equals. "My guess is you're drinking Jack and Coke?"

"Captain and Coke." I had the strong urge to fiddle with the button of his open polo collar, so I did. Troy's chest expanded a little at the touch and then his eyes were staring hard at my hand, then my eyes. I did have an effect on him. "But you were pretty close."

Troy laughed and motioned the bartender with his fingers. He slapped down a twenty on the wooden surface and said, "Two shots. Spiced Rum."

It was easy talking to him. For someone I'd surprisingly met a few days ago, Troy quickly put me at ease. There was no guilt in flirting with him. Not like how I'd felt with Samuel. Troy easily played everything down. He didn't give me crap for leaving him the first time and acted as if it was nothing. With any other guy, he'd be furious or would have even given up by now.

But not Troy.

And I realized that it was because he was nice. I needed nice in my life. Not blond daredevils with killer green eyes and an even killer smile.

Two shots were placed in front of us and Troy gently clinked our glasses together. I tried remembering when was the last time I took shots. I couldn't remember. Before downing it, I stole a fast glance at Layla and Gabriela to make sure they weren't spying on me. They were fully immersed in a conversation, and Gabby was currently eye-fucking a guy by the billiard tables.

On the count of three, Troy and I tipped our heads back. A bit of the liquor escaped my mouth. He laughed. I laughed, too. He smiled and I smiled, too.

"See that wasn't so bad," he teased, whispering close to my ear. His hand was now on my waist but in a friendly fashion. In a way that didn't make my skin crawl.

There were so many people tonight that there was barely enough room to move. Our bodies were almost plastered together. I shifted and our clothes rubbed against one another. Troy stiffened.

His voice held a raspy quality when he spoke in my ear again. "How about a game of pool?"

I nodded and polished what remained of my drink. "Get us a table and I'll let my friends know?"

"You got it." He winked. "I'll wait for you."

Troy disappeared somewhere in the crowd and I went back to my booth. Except something caught my attention halfway there. My heart stalled at the same time that my feet did. That familiar husky voice rang in my ears. Those familiar soulless eyes pierced through my chest. And that familiar, deceiving smirk burned in the deepest part of my memory.

It didn't matter. Even in my half inebriated state I would always, always recognize Joey Donald. It just didn't matter. Too much had occurred for me to not be able to spot his lying, cheating-ass from miles away.

Crushed. That was the state of my windpipes. I couldn't breathe. There was no oxygen residing in my lungs.

My knees felt like they would buckle and my heart... it had slipped through my rib cage and fallen to the pit of my stomach. I was going to heave. My stomach churned. My heart beats accelerated. My emotions were in a turmoil and I couldn't properly think, let alone concentrate. All I knew was that I didn't want him to see me. I didn't want to continue seeing him. I could feel the anxiety attack on its way.

Before my friends - or worse, the boy who broke me to pieces - could spot me, I ran away. The warm breeze heated my damp face and neck as I stepped outside into the night air and rounded the corner of the edifice. The shakiness remained inside of me until I was standing under a half-working lamppost in an all too familiar dark alley by the pub house.

The beats of my heart descended to a normal, and much healthier pattern. Funny I'd escaped the presence of Joey, only to land myself in one of the places that reminded me the most of him. I cradled my head in my hand and focused on breathing in-and-out. I feared I'd vomit. Pathetic. At the sight of him I was all ready to throw up the alcohol I'd barely even digested.

Whilst I was no longer as shaken as before, the pounding in my head hadn't ceased. I shoved aside the thoughts of my ex-boyfriend that made my mind spin. A part of me still wondered if the girl I'd seen on his arms was his latest conquest. Would he fuck her, too, and dispose of her like she was trash? I sure as hell hoped he didn't. No one deserved to be treated that way. No one.

My mind conjured up terrible scenarios and then it was like I couldn't stop. The sadistic part inside of me tortured me some more - the part that was responsible for my father's death. Old memories flooded my mind and I was struck with the painful reminder that once upon a time, I'd let Joey Donald's be the center of my universe. That was my mistake. And he'd stomped all over me and spat on my heart like it meant nothing.

I don't know how long I stood in the dark alley-way behind Danny's Grill. But by the last memory of my father, I was ready to call it a night. I clutched my stomach, making sure I wouldn't throw up. Then I kicked off the brick wall.

Cat-calls and wolf whistles echoed in the air. I paused, dread pouring into my bloodstream, causing me to stay rooted to the same spot. A few shadows loomed at the end of the alley way and my heart rate kicked up a notch. If I remembered correctly, this was a dead-end.

I'd been stupid enough to not alert Layla and Gabriela about my whereabouts. This was my karma for even sparing Joey Donald's a thought. Scums like him were not worth my time. Scums like him were also the reason why I landed myself in these situations to begin with.

"Eh, girlllll." A drunk voice drawled and goose bumps prickled along my arms. And not the good kind. "What you doing out here alone - looking for a good time?"

Ah, damn. My brain was on low-functioning mode after this entire night, and I didn't think I could defend myself properly if it came down to it. Black and white my ass. I was in grey. Grey was worse.

I started walking in the opposite direction fast, hoping - praying - to God that it wasn't a dead-end like I remembered. Please, please, God. Grant me a miracle. Tell me there's an inside street I could get off on.

"Where do you think you're going?" Footsteps followed the statement. Footsteps that were quickly catching up to me. My blood ran cold. I was sweating. "Won't you stay back and hang with us for awhile?"

I heard laughter after the taunt and I was convinced I was stuck with no way to get out of this mess.

When the voices neared and I realized that there was, indeed, no exit, my miracle appeared.

"You've got five seconds to leave her alone before I'm forced to do something about it."

I squeezed my eyes shut, instantly reacting to the commanding voice of my miracle. He wasn't the savior I wanted, or expected. I froze completely. This couldn't be happening to me. This couldn't be happening to me.

My short lived relief was squashed down when I figured out who the voice belonged too.

It's like the more I ran away from Sam, the more he caught up. It's like we were on an endless chase. It never stopped. And when he caught up to me, he caught up hard.

Sam stepped away from the shadows and for a moment, my breath got caught in my throat. His dark blond hair was matted to his forehead in what looked suspiciously like sweat, and he sported two new cuts. One under his bottom lip and a new one near his temple.

From the last time I'd seen him, his jaw had gathered more stubble. Dark grey sweatpants hung dangerously low on his hips and his torso was covered in a sweat-slicked white t-shirt that perfectly outlined his sculpted muscles. He was so ruggedly handsome even in this state.

It was the lethal look in his eyes, however, that had me doing a double take. That, and the thundering expression currently charging its way across his features. There was an angry fire in his green eyes, and it was directed at the pair of drunk guys that had been followed me.

Sam popped his neck from side to side without once looking at me. "Is there a problem here, gentlemen?" The crack of his knuckles emphasized his statement. "Or do I need to make myself clear?"

The sleazy drunk guys who'd been hollering at me became visible, too, as they stepped into the light, and they couldn't have been a day older than twenty-one. They looked like they were considering Sam's offer for a fight, until they really sized him up. He was much, much bigger than them. He may be outnumbered, but I had no doubt that he could take them on. In their state, the fight was his.

But I didn't want a fight. Certainly not one in my name. I just wanted to be left alone by all of them. Including my miracle who spent the entire night taking refuge in my thoughts.

One of them gave an annoying sloppy smirk that was meant to be smug but came across as anything but. "Girl over here-" he pointed at me with a weak finger. "-is asking for it. Look at the way she's dressed."

My muscles locked in place. Sam's nostrils flared and whatever bit of composure he had left went flying out of the window.

"Take that back you sick fuck," he seethed, getting into their faces now, clenching his fists like he had to physically fight back the urge to swing at them. "Apologize. The only one who's asking for something is you, and that's a fucking beating. From me."

They never apologized. Instead they chose to stupidly shove at Sam, who didn't take that lightly. He retaliated. Expletives and curses were exchanged between them before the two drunks scampered away, scared and bruised, after Sam released an uppercut at one of them. I closed my eyes when fists began flying and only opened them when they were gone. Disappeared into the night.

Sam's back was to me as he continued watching the spot from where they'd entered.

I worked up the courage to softly call out to him when the coast was clear. "Sam." And he tightened at the sound of my shaky voice. Or maybe it was the sound of his name. It felt like the first time I called him by his name, but that was ridiculous, because I knew it wasn't the first time.

Ever so slowly, he pivoted around. Pinning me to the spot with the full force of his raging emerald orbs. That anger wasn't for me but I could see him trying to simmer it down. He didn't seem like someone who lost his temper often.

Yes, he'd gotten aggravated throughout our previous encounters, but never like this. Like he was conflicted, truly rattled on the inside. Harsh breaths fell out of his parted lips, causing his chest to heave up and down deeply.

He started striding towards me. I panicked, my stomach flipping. There were flutters. Flutters I hadn't felt since the last time I'd seen him at the party.

"Are you okay?" he ground out. Sam shot a hand out, as if to reassure me, but dropped it when it came within inches of my wrist. Suddenly, I wanted his hand on my wrist. To comfort me. To tell me that it was okay and those guys wouldn't come back.

I nodded desperately and found myself stepping closer to him like he was a safety net. "I'm okay. T-Thank you."

Sam took a deep, shuddering inhale, and then his eyes flickered heavenwards. I noticed that a muscle still ticked in his jaw. Maybe from a mixture of irritation - irritation at having to save me - and anger from what those guys had said.

"You should never roam on your own at this time of the night. What were you thinking?"

I wasn't thinking. "I needed fresh air."

"You didn't think of getting fresh air close by, instead of entering a godforsaken alleyway at such a time of the night?" His tone was incredulous, implying that I pretty close to stupid.

I was stupid. At least tonight. "This sounds an awful lot like a lecture." Was it just my imagination or had he moved closer to me?

Sam breathed unevenly. His hand circled my wrist and tugged at it, until our chests collided. Until I was forced to crane my neck back to look him in the eyes.

"Tell me why we keep meeting each other," he whispered. "Tell me why we keep bumping into each other even after you've made it clear that we're to avoid one another."

The sudden change of subject nearly gave me whiplash but I played it cool. As cool as someone who's tipsy could play it. By feigning indifference.

I shrugged my shoulder but it failed. Sam crushed my palm to his sweaty chest, separating my fingers and threading them with his. He held our joined hands close to his heart.

"Maybe it's a coincidence," I breathed. His eyes narrowed. "Or maybe not."

He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and walked us backward, until my back painfully dug into the brick wall. He had me caged in. Cornered. Still gripping my hand. "We're going to go with maybe not, Anna."

Under the dim light, I could barely make out his face. Could only feel. I felt the fabric of his t-shirt under my clammy palm. Felt the soft material of his sweatpants brushing against my bare thighs - covered in simply denim short shorts. And then his thumb did a gentle sweep against the back of my hand, and I was reminded of Joshua's party.

With my other hand, I touched his fingers, feeling a tape wound tightly around his knuckles, all the way down to his wrist. Sam's breath quickened when I continued feeling up and down his other arm. He had some kind of band wrapped around both his hands.

"What's this?" I asked, fingering the rough material. Sam abandoned my hand and put some space between us. Enough space so I could finally think... and breathe without his intoxicating scent confusing me.

Twin pools of emerald strayed on my mouth. "What's what?" Then he took another step back and I inhaled sharply at the scars I could finally see. The wounds and gashes on his arms and face looked even worse. More defined. More deep.

My eyebrows knitted together and I reached forward, running the pad of my fingertips absentmindedly over the jagged scar above his right brow. I wanted to blame my actions on all the liquor I'd consumed, but the truth is that I wanted to touch him.

"Why do you always look like you took a beating?" I murmured, my shoulders sagging defeatedly. Or gave a beating.

"Why do you always act like you care?" His voice was strung tight.

I shook my head, my finger lightly running down the slope of his cheek before falling to my side. My hand sizzled at the contact, like an electrical current coursed through me the second I touched his face. "I don't like seeing people... you... hurt."

It was the alcohol talking. It got to have been the alcohol talking.

Another strained noise erupted from his lips and then Sam was striding closer to me, closing the distance between us, pinning me against his chest, then moving me backwards until my back came in contact with the brick wall - again. His finger jerked up my chin at the same time that his face came down, and my heart got lodged in my throat.

My fingers grasped broad shoulders as Sam's nose traced the column of my neck until his warm lips pressed against my ear. He murmured, "I don't like the look you're giving me right now, Barbie."

"What look?" Breathless. I was breathless.

"Like you actually give two shits about my well-being." His forehead slide against my temple. "It's fucking with my head."

I sucked in a deep breath at the same time that he exhaled . Our eyes bored into one another and then our breaths mingled. I had to ask myself why everything was so intense with this guy.

We were like firecrackers, going off the split second we came into each other's presence. Sam kept his eyes on mine as he raised a bandaged hand and framed the side of my head. Shamelessly, I leaned into his touch. "You really need to make up your mind, Anna," he grated and pressed his body closer to mine. "This can't - "

"Sam."

I flinched at the intruder and just like shattered glass the moment broke, and I stepped sideways, away from Sam's embrace. He cursed lowly under his breath and shot me a look, before his eyes drifted to the source of the voice.

Another guy emerged from the shadows, this one shirtless. But I wasn't scared like last time, because Sam obviously seemed to know him. He meant us no harm.

"We've been looking for you," he spoke, walking towards us with determination and exuding a sense of authority. The same one I sometimes felt rolling off waves from Samuel. "You start in a couple of minutes."

"I know, Nate." Sam's voice was razor-sharp, before he decidedly softened his tone as he addressed his friend. "I had to tend to something quickly." He gave me a meaningful glance and his throat worked. "I'll be there shortly. I'm just going to take her back to Danny's."

Nate shook his head and his deep baritone left no room for arguing. "You go back." He jerked his head at Sam. "You've got somewhere to be. I'll take care of her."

Sam wanted to object, I could tell. If the way the protruded veins in neck were any indication, he wanted to defy whatever this Nate guy had just said. But he didn't have it in him.

They were about the same height. When Nate passed him, Sam stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, squeezing hard. "Make sure she gets there safely."

If I weren't in tipsyland, I would have inserted that I didn't need a man to escort me to safety. But 1) I was and 2) as much as the feminist in me wanted to rise, I kept her dormant. The night had just proved that creepers lurked and while I may be strong, I may not have been as strong as I needed to be if push-came-to-shove. Especially with my inhibitions lowered. 

I didn't have the time to debate on how unfair women had it. Going out for a walk or jog at night, alone, was a bad narrative still, in the 21st century. Unfortunately. 

A smirk flirted over Nate's lip before it disappeared. He nodded curtly and brushed away Sam's hand. "Don't worry."

Sam gave me one more intense look and I shifted from one foot to the other. Then he wheeled around and left, blending into the shadows of the night.

Nate strode towards me purposefully and I noticed the various tattoos that decorated his chest. Ink ran all the way down his right arm, too, an intricate tribal weaving that I couldn't see properly or understand in the state that my mind was. All I knew was that I'd always been a sucker for the tattooed ones. It didn't help that Nate's body looked like it was carved and chiseled from the finest stone.

"You must be Barbie." Nate had an I-don't-take-shit-from-anyone kind of attitude, but a bit of amusement swirled in his voice then. "Heard a lot about you."

I looked at little skeptically. But it probably came off as a grimace. "My name's Anna."

And why was this guy shirtless, in the middle of an alleyway? That was the question.

"So I've heard," he murmured and drew my attention to the low waistband of his black sweatpants as he tucked his fists into his pockets. I blushed as my eyes skimmed over his happy-trail. His sweats rested low enough to be comfortable, yet just enough to be a tease as well. "Where can I drop you off?"

I swallowed thickly, and stepped away from him when he entered the light emanating from the lamppost. Something about his face was familiar. Extremely familiar.

"It's okay," I said. "I'll walk there myself."

Then Nate froze, too. Canting his head to the side, he assessed me like a hunter surveyed his prey. He knew me from somewhere. A shadow passed over his face before he shook it off and gave me a polite smile.

"There's no use arguing with me," he laughed huskily. "I'd never let a girl walk alone at this time of the night - that's not how I was brought up. Neither would Sam. Since my best friend seems to be fond of you, it's my responsibility to make sure you get home safe."

"He's not... fond of me." I struggled to even speak.

Nate didn't say anything. Instead, his pale irises, a harsh contrast against the color of his dark hair, gleamed in the dim light as he chin-jutted toward the end of the alley. Motioning for us to start walking.

I fell into step beside him. He stayed protectively close, but kept a safe distance. I took this time to survey him as subtly as possible. Very tall, very very tanned and very, very, very well-built. Like Sam, his hair was fuller at the top and cropped closely at the sides with a fade. There were two small parallel lines at the side of his head, right over his ear. They gave him more edge. So did the two small diamond studs he sported in each ear. It only added to his masculinity. That and the heavy stubble adorned along his jaw.

"How long have you known Sam?" I suddenly blurted.

Nate glimpsed at me then resumed staring in front of him. I noticed that his arm was literally the size of a bulldozer. It was the best imagery my tipsy mind could conjure.

"I've known him for awhile now," he husked. He didn't give me any more information than that.

He was a quiet one. A man of a few words.

"Have we ever met... before?" It was a stupid question to ask but we were nearing the end of the alley and I was getting word vomit. I needed to call this a night. And I also needed to place my finger on where I'd seen him. He obviously didn't go to my school. Then again maybe he did. 

"Are you trying to come onto me?" Nate mouth curved into a half-smile, and I blushed, before he winked sexily. "I'm just fucking with you."

I waited for him to speak.

He pulled out a towel that was half tucked into his back pocket and used it to wipe his face. "No. I believe we haven't met before." His voice was muffled. "Damn shame, too. I would have loved to snag you for myself before Sam did."

I don't know why he kept making all these insinuation about Sam but it was hurting my head to just think of them so I completely dismissed them. The blush on my face didn't get the memo though.

Nate and I walked in mutual silence, and I noticed that the same bandaged tape that was around Sam's was wrapped around Nate's hands as well. It reminded me of the kind people wore before they went all berserk on a punching bag.

We rounded the corner and Danny's Grill came into sight. Nate stayed within the shadows when I started crossing to the parking lot. I may have been just a little under the influence but I hadn't lost all my manners.

"Thanks, Nate. For... walking me." I was relief and dreading returning to the pub. Relief because while Nate seemed chill, there was an intensity to him that kind of intimidated me. Dread because of who rested within the walls of the place. "I appreciate it."

Nate smirked and did that cute head nod thing boys did. "It was my pleasure. I'll let Sam know I dropped his crush off safely to her destination."

Now that I was back to my temporary sanctuary, I seemed to find his joke funny and I laughed. Nate genuinely looked pleased by my reaction. "Stay out of trouble, Anna."

He turned to leave before I stopped him again. I was seized with this feeling that we did know each other. I rushed out quickly, "Nate... are you sure we don't know each other... have we... are you sure we haven't met in the past?"

Nate's back was to me and I realized that the broad expanse was covered in ink as well. He spared me one more tight-lipped smile over his shoulder. "Positive, Jodanna. Have a good night."

He too disappeared in the shadows and I resisted the urge to tell him that while girls shouldn't walk alone at this time of the night, neither should guys. The feminist inside of me protested at the double-standard and sexist comment.

And then I realized that I'd never given Nate my real name.

As I climbed the stairs to Danny's Grill, I was sure about two things; Nate was lying to me and two, I'd somehow managed to royally screw up by leaving Troy hanging twice in a row.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

A/N: So things are slowly starting to heat up between Anna and Sam! What do you guys think? About Gabby f*ucking Josh's friend? Troy and Anna? SAM AND ANNA? Anna seeing Joey? And especially about Anna meeting Sam's best friend Nate - who I'm sure some of you recognize because he's been previously mentioned in other stories? Why do you think she feels like she knows him from somewhere? Give me all your thoughts :) I love hearing them! x