Chapter Thirty-One


I’ve only driven him once to work, but it’s a good fifteen minutes away from the flat. Most of the way there we’re quiet, and I can tell he’s exhausted by the way he’s leaning on the window, with his hands tucked into the front pocket of his sweatshirt. He looks cozy this way, and I can’t help but reach and grab one of his hands.

I don’t know what he’s done to me, but I can’t stop touching him. He squeezes my hand in return and grins lazily.

Once we’re parked outside, Sam grabs his backpack and turns in his seat.

“Wanna wait? Or you can just go home, it’s fine, I can call a cab when I’m done, or usually, I just crash at the clinic if it’s too late,” he explains like he thinks I will let him do that.

I click my tongue, “Actually, can I come with you?”

I don’t know why I asked that, I’ve got nothing to do at his

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