Ray.

~~~

We danced until Rory's set ended—she never kissed me. By then, the restlessness in the group had settled into a mellow buzz, and we returned to the table. Sam sipped her soda, quieter than usual, and then excused herself to the bathroom. I watched her walk off, wondering if she was still thinking about the dance or something else entirely.

The music pounded around me, but it didn't stop my mind from drifting. Sam had this way of making me notice everything about her—her nervous energy, the way she smoothed her hair when she thought no one was looking. She fascinated me in a way I couldn't fully explain.

Emeth and Daisy made out on the couch next to me, I watched the platform entry like a hawk waiting for Samantha to return after fifteen minutes I decided to look for her. Rory was still hanging out in the DJ booth with the guy who spun the music. And Scott was nowhere to be found, I had a gut feeling that it was no coincidence both of them were not here.

I went downstairs, surfing through the crowd, and looking around. Scott showed up from around the corner, his green eyes hazy, and his hair looked disheveled like he was pulling them.

"Have you seen Sam?" I asked after he bumped into me. It was not settled and very much on purpose. But I stood my ground, I might look lean and people often mistake that for being weak but I have more power than people give me credit.

He slightly jumped back from the impact. "She is at the back," he said, motioning behind his back. Something was off with him.

I got what I needed from him and went to the back, the neon sign pointing there was an exit and bathrooms there. I scanned the foyer between the bathrooms, shifting my gaze to the slightly ajar exit door, I chose to inspect it.

She leaned to the brick wall, hugging herself, looking to some invisible point straight ahead.

"Sam?"

"Ray," she said, widening her blue eyes. What the hell is she doing? "I needed a breather," she added as reading my mind.

"Did something happen? With Scott?" I joined her, standing in front of her so she would look at me instead of the garbage containers on the other side of the lot.

"Yeah," she said in a slumber tone, peering up at me. "He ambushed me after the bathroom, and sort of...exploded."

"I will talk to him," I stepped to the side but she grabbed my bicep, forcing me to stop.

Samantha shook her head, "There is no point, I guess you were right, he might be jealous," her grip on my bicep turned to a caress as her hand traveled up to my shoulder.

I shifted, standing in front of her once more, my hand sneaking on her waist, her hand slinking to my neck. "Tell me what happened?"

"He is mad I invited you, I should have asked him if it was okay but I didn't," The guilt was notable in her pretty eyes but guilt about what exactly? "He never acted this way before, with my boyfriends—not that I am calling you my boyfriend but you know what I mean."

I know, I am an asshole, she was upset, hurt, and not feeling well but her words made me happy. Yup, an asshole. Not thinking or asking about the boyfriends now since I felt like the timing would have been off, but the fact that Scott was pissed about me, that gave me hope. He saw me as a threat, which was splendid to me.

"I really like you," I said leaning closer. "But I don't want to cause any trouble."

Her hand sneaked to my face, slightly caressing it, the touch setting fire to my skin. "Scott is not an issue," she said, looking at my lips. Were the signs all there, or were they just in my head? The pull I felt toward her was killing me, but I wanted her to want to kiss me.

She tiptoed pressing her boobs to my chest, my breath hitched as her lips lightly touched mine. That was all I needed, as I leaned pressing her spine against the wall and deepening the kiss. Her soft lips moved with precision, tongue purposely teasing me, my hands sneaking lower to her bare thighs.

The world around us dimmed, music, traffic sounds, and occasional voices all muted, the only thing I heard was my fast heartbeat. I crouched, gripping her tights, lifting her on my hips and firmly pressing her to the wall.

She kept her balance grabbing my shoulders, and moments later her fingers were buried in the back of my hair. The small gasp she created, made my dick twitch, and I pressed into her, her hips slightly moving, her pussy grinding against my crotch.

"Ray," she moaned as I nibbled on her lower lips, caressing her ass.

I grinned as my mouth traveled to the side of her neck. I restrained myself as I kissed her neck so as not to leave bruises on her delicate skin. My jeans become uncomfortably tight, and I wanted nothing more but to fuck her. But our first time won't be in some back alley where drunk people go to barf or pee. It won't be anytime soon, though at this point I knew it would be hard to hold on to all the values I had.

I slowed down, my kisses lighter on her neck as I went back to her lips, nibbling on her lower lip. She opened her eyes, lustfully looking at me. "We should probably get back," I said, stopping my hands from moving, still firmly holding her.

"Yeah," she replied in a raspy voice.

She fixed the bottom of the dress as I finally let her on the ground, and shifted to the door. "Sam?" She looked back at me. "When there are just the two of us you seem into me," I said. "But you avoid contact when we among other people...I know we are not a couple, just yet but I kinda hope we will get there."

She looked at me with bewilderment in her eyes. "You are Raymond Lawrence," she said like I didn't know my own name, I raised my eyebrow silently asking 'So?' "People know you, of you, I really do not want that type of attention." I nodded in agreement.

I could see her point, but I felt it was not the whole story. Was it really that bad to take my hand in a half-dark and half-empty club at the start of the night? I didn't press her more as we moved inside, I stayed close letting her lead the way back to the ramp. We found Emeth and Scott sitting with a half-empty tray of shots.

Samantha sat on the other side of the sofa, Scott shot drunken glares at the both us of. Whatever he said to her provided more tension. I leaned back in my seat, gripping my drink tighter than I needed to. Scott had been acting strange all night, and whatever he was saying to her wasn't sitting right with me. Sam's mood switched, her usual spark seemed to vanish I wanted her to be in charge of this night, though I felt that perhaps it was just time to go.

She sat directly across from Scott, trying to engage him, but he shut her down with cold silence. It pissed me off, to see her try so hard only to be met with hostility. When he started drinking more—recklessly, angrily—it was clear things were spiraling.

Sam tried to get him to slow down, but he lashed out. I could see the frustration building in her eyes, the disappointment. It wasn't long before she gave up and let him drown himself in whatever was eating at him.

I couldn't stay silent anymore. I leaned over and placed my hand gently on hers. "Are you okay?" I asked, my voice low enough that only she could hear.

Her eyes flicked up to mine, wide and full of emotion. "Yeah," she whispered, but the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her. "I think it's time for me to go home."

Something tightened in my chest at her words. She sounded defeated, and it didn't sit right with me. "Okay," I said, keeping my tone calm for her sake. "We can go. I drove you here, remember?" I nodded toward Scott, who had passed out on the couch. "We should probably take him with us."

Sam hesitated, her brow furrowing. "I don't know where he lives," she admitted, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

I blinked at her, caught off guard. "What do you mean? He lives across the street from you. That's why I said we should drop him off."

She stared at me, her expression shifting into something I couldn't quite read. "Across the street," she repeated, almost to herself. "What the—?" She shook her head as if trying to make sense of it. "Wait. You've been to his apartment before?"

"Yeah," I said slowly, frowning. "Twice. Why?"

"Forget it." She waved her hand, brushing it off, but her tone was sharp, and I could tell she was upset. "Let's just go. We'll need to help Scott."

Sam's mood unsettled me, but there wasn't time to press her on it. Together, we hauled Scott out to my Impala. He groaned a few times as we loaded him into the back seat, but his eyes stayed firmly shut. The drive back was quiet and tense.

Sam sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window like she was a million miles away. I glanced at her now and then, trying to read her thoughts, but her expression was a wall I couldn't climb.

Scott snored softly in the back, oblivious to the storm brewing in the car. I kept my focus on the road, gripping the wheel tighter than necessary. I wanted to say something to Sam, to break through whatever barrier had gone up between us, but the words wouldn't come.