Chapter 9 - Friends without benefits

"Hey ... you're awake." Lucas greeted her with a small, gentle smile. Samantha forced herself to mirror it, and nodded, pretending to have just woken, while in truth, she'd remained in bed for half an hour already, waiting for him. Hopefully the quick shower had washed away every residual of her breakdown.

"Do you think you can make it to the kitchen? I made you breakfast." He asked, quite thrilled.

Samantha nodded meekly, and slowly stood. Lucas rushed to her help, but she assured him she was fine. "In fact, I think I've outstayed my welcome. After breakfast I'll go home." She stated, as firmly as possible.

Lucas frowned, confused. "I thought we'd agreed. You're staying until you feel better."

"We agreed I would stay a few hours, yet I've stayed for the night ... it's too much already. You have things to do, so ..."

"I have nothing to do."1

She bit her lip, knowing she couldn't mention the meeting he'd apparently skipped purposely to stay at home with her. Gathering her clothes, which he'd placed neatly on the armchair next to the bed, she proceeded: "Well, I'm fine, so I should just go home, rid you of the trouble. You've been really kind, Lukas, but I definitely shouldn't take advantage of your kindness, I'm fine, so it's better I just-"

"Sam?"

"Mmh?" She turned, confused.

"Shut up, will you?"2

She blinked her eyes, marveled at the directness, but her heart skipped a few beats when he took swift strides closer, a determined look on his face. Lucas stood merely a couple of inches away from her face while he spoke, and Sam had a hard time trying to focus on those other than on his tempting lips, his mesmerizing eyes and his aphrodisiac citrusy smell that always made her feel lightheaded and that she eagerly washed away from her skin after their secret encounters.1

"At the cost of being accused of abduction, you are not leaving this penthouse until you truly are healed, Samantha. So quit fighting it. We're friends, and friends lend a helping hand when needed. Just because you let me take care of you for a weekend, doesn't mean you'll owe me for the rest of your life. Just ... chill, damnit."1

She remained interdicted for a few moments, marveled at his determination, but somewhat ... comforted. He'd deemed them friends. That was the second time he did that. He really thought they were friends.1

It felt ... good, Sam felt an unfamiliar warmth pervade her body, something like happiness mixed with gratitude. It's pathetic, her inner voice promptly came to spoil it, but Sam didn't care. It may be as awfully pathetic as a proud woman like her could never allow, but it didn't matter.

She had a friend. A real one. A true friend that fought for her instead of dump her at the smallest issue, a true friend that cared enough about her as to even fight her instead of leave her alone with herself. It felt ... amazing.2

They could be friends, Sam realized. There could be nothing more than that, but they could be friends, to the very least. Friendship was a luxury she'd never allowed herself, she had no idea how did it feel to ... truly matter to someone other than her parents, therefore seeing Lucas there, fighting for their bond, it gave her an overwhelming feeling of happiness and gratitude that would certainly be torn down by those ravenous demons of hers as soon as she remained alone with her mind, but ... as of now, it felt great.1

Lucas was ready to stand his ground, he was sure she would fight, but he was ready to counter her every objection. That's why, when Sam, simply, cracked a tiny, barely visible smile that reached his heart before his eyes, given the strong emotions it conveyed, Lucas was taken off guard.

"Okay. I'm ... staying. Thank you."

"You ... y-you're welcome ..." He stuttered, causing her to chuckle lightly, which triggered his own smile. There was no need for words, the look in his eyes as he beheld that enigmatic beauty said it all. If the eyes truly could speak, he'd have already expressed the most fervent love declaration. Too bad she didn't read what he'd exposed right there, for a small moment, unconsciously yet purposely.1

"Well, I'm hungry. You said something about breakfast?" Sam mused, breaking the stare contest. Lucas chuckled, but nodded, and together they headed to the kitchen. Once there, Samantha couldn't help doubling over in amazement.

"Did you wake up at dawn to make all these goodies?" She asked, marveled. She'd seen a certain variety of meals earlier, but she hadn't seen it all.1

Lucas smiled coyly, hoping she would like what he'd prepared. "Well, I couldn't sleep, so ..." He admitted. She arched an eyebrow, turning to him. Busted, Lucas tried to mend: "I mean, um ... I woke early because that's my routine, so I-uh ... ugh, never mind, let's just eat, alright?"2

She didn't need to know he'd got up earlier than usual purposely. Neither did she need to know he'd barely slept. Telling her he'd watched her sleep with the excuse of making sure she was okay wouldn't help his case, Lucas reminded himself. Last thing he needed, was for her to think he was some creepy stalker obsessed with her.1

Sam smiled. For once, it was him to be embarrassed, not the other way round. Being as used as she was to seeing always a perfectly confident, strong, determined Lucas, the sight of this cutely coy guy was nice.2

There was something comfortably human in him, the ... right kind of human, the all positive type of humanity, so different from the darkest side of the human heart she'd always seen. It sent her own heart vibrating, warming it, making her feel some odd prickly feeling she couldn't quite identify.

If there was one word that swiftly came to mind when it came to Lucas Grant, it was feelings. Whatever the nature of those, be it confusedly romantic, or comfortably homey, even arousing ... Lucas made her feel. He gave her emotions. Better said, he woke up from their deeply long sleep her purest emotions, resurfacing them, making her feel ... alive. Human. At least for once.1

It was a dangerous game, but maybe just one weekend could suffice. Then she would turn away, once for all, no going back.1

Once she'd sat down at the table with everything laid down, Lucas cleared his throat, weirdly nervous. "So, um ... gingerbread muffins, banana fritters, French toasts with berries and maple syrup, strawberry crepes, banana cinnamon waffles", he presented in one breath, "and ... either orange juice or hot cocoa to drink."3

Sam awed, marveled. "You're simple in everything but not food, huh?"

He smiled coyly, scratching the back of his neck boyishly. "I-uh ... like cooking. That's all." He wanted to make an impression, that was more like it. His dad always said, one of the secrets to making a woman fall was to make her laugh, the other ... was to tempt her taste buds.2

Never underestimate the seductive power of food, Lucas, Grant Senior always advised, a delicious lasagna has the triple of the seductive power of any pickup line. Maybe he'd overdone, though, Lucas considered. Yet the light moans erupting out of her as she dug in the muffins were worth every effort.4

"So you took a course or something?" Sam asked, nearly having a food orgasm when she tasted the cinnamon waffles. She closed her eyes to better savor them, feeling like she'd just tasted a piece of heaven. Hard to go back to simple brioche and cappuccino for breakfast now.

"My parents worked a lot, so I used to cook for myself when I was a kid", Lucas explained, pouring himself a glass of orange juice, hot cocoa for her. "Then, when Rachel, my little sister, was born, I improved, because she was so picky, and I had to get creative in order to convince her to eat", he smiled, reminiscing, "I made up the weirdest recipes just so she would eat broccoli, spinach and all that healthy food. Then I took a couple of lessons in college."1

"Sounds like a real passion."

He nodded. "It relaxes me, yeah. I use it to calm down myself whenever I get too worked up."

"I thought you worked out as well."

"I do, yeah, but ...", he chuckled to himself, "that's merely to keep myself fit. I mean, yeah, I know how to fight, I learnt a bit of combat techniques from my driver, who's ex Special Forces, but ... that's it, I guess."

"So when you're angry, you just come into the kitchen and ... bake something?" She asked, moving to the strawberry crepes.2

He chuckled, nodding. "Yeah, kind of", he popped a piece of muffin into his mouth, "what about you? what do you do when you're angry?"

Sam shrugged, busy with the crepes. "I rarely get mad, but when I do, I just lie down and listen to classic music. You know, Beethoven, Mozart, Chopin ... all those. My mom plays piano, so she introduced me to that world."

"Just that?"

"Yeah. Surprised?"

He laughed lightly. "Well, yeah ... for some reason I pictured you as the kind of person that would break something, maybe throw it at who made you mad ..."

Sam nearly choked on her hot cocoa to laugh. "You think I'm a violent person?"1

He shrugged. "I don't know, you look so tough sometimes ..."

"Sometimes?"

Lucas bit his lip, conscious he'd let slip too much, but why not just be honest? He leaned in, playing with his glass of orange juice as he admitted: "I think you're a mix of many things, Sam. You're tough, you can work it without help, you can take care of yourself, you have a sass inside that's ... wow, surprising, yet you're also so posed, tranquil, apparently shy. You look like the type of person that would seem normal, but that might blow up at the unexpected."2

She frowned, confused, but he went on.

"However you ... you're also fragile, I won't say weak, but you're in need of a comfort that you can't provide yourself, yet you're too proud to seek it somewhere else. You're many different things, have many different nuances, and ... I like it. I really do."

She blushed profusely, lowering her glance while her heart skipped a few beats. There you go, feelings. Again. Once again those unnatural vibrations of her heart, once again that fluttery feeling in her stomach. Dangerous path, it was a dangerous path ... Samantha cleared her throat, and swiftly, for how awkwardly, changed subject by mentioning how delicious breakfast was.2

Lucas received the message, loud and clear, therefore switched topic, going to ask if she felt like doing anything or she needed to rest.

"I guess we could ... um ... watch some movies?" she proposed, taking him off guard.

"Movies?" He repeated, surprised and somewhat excited at the idea of a cozy routine between them. It was the fastest way towards a normal relationship.

"Yeah, I mean ..." she bit her lip, playing with her fork, "you decided I'm your prisoner for the weekend, so we gotta do something, and because, well, honestly, I feel still too weak to ... linger in our peculiar moments, I guess that's the only thing that remains that we can do together in here." She blurted out all that so fast that he was a little overwhelmed, but in the end, he smiled, not as widely as he wanted, knowing she would freak out, but enough to tell her he agreed.1

Standing up, Lucas grabbed her hand to help her do the same, the smile unfaltering on his lips, same as on hers. For once, Sam thought, living might be pleasant. Only a weekend, she decided. Then she'd burst the cozy bubble. Hopefully without damages.

***

"Okay, so, this is your episode." Sam mused, hinting at the TV, where the 14th episode of Person of Interest's second season was starting.2

"Why?" Lucas asked, confused.

"Well, it's about an eccentric young billionaire."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Am I eccentric?"

"You'll admit you're an odd billionaire, Lucas Grant."

He rolled his eyes, pretending to be annoyed. "Just because I don't sit on my huge throne, a glass of red wine in my hand, laughing evilly?"

She chuckled. "Pretty much, yes."

He smiled, trying to ignore the faster beats of his heart every time they laughed together, or she inadvertently brushed his arm, played with him. It was something he'd missed since long. A carefree afternoon spent simply bantering, bickering, playing with his girlfriend. Too bad Sam was not that. Not yet.2

Turning back to the TV, before she could realize he wasn't as much interested in the show as much as he was in her face, Lucas mused: "I suck at basketball."

She chuckled - probably the hundredth time in only one day, opposite to the usual sour mood. "Well, there must be something you can't do. Otherwise you'd be too perfect."1

He grinned. "Would I?" He poked her arm. "So you think I'm perfect, huh?"

She rolled her eyes, though half smiling, as she turned to him. "As gorgeous as a prince, as clever as a scientist, as kind-hearted as a saint. The perfect man", she recited, quoting the article about the golden bachelor.2

Lucas snorted. "Ugh, that stupid article caused me lots of troubles."

"Did it? How?"

"Well, for starters, there was no need for whole freaking New York to know I'm still single. Then, it made me the target for conniving gold diggers." Sam frowned, marveled, therefore he explained: "Ever since that damn article came out, the number of greedy fathers and mothers throwing at me their lovely daughters has multiplied, and so has the number of girls trying to lure me into their bed."1

She chuckled lightly. "Ever thought maybe those girls were after you, you, not your wallet?"

"I doubt it. They evidently aimed at setting up the golden piggy."2

Sam shook her head. "No, I meant, ever considered those girls tried to lure you into their bed simply because you're a really attractive guy they wanted to have sex with, and not because they planned to marry you?"

Lucas frowned, thinking it over. "You know what? I've met so many conniving gold diggers, that I'm not even able to tell the difference anymore. I just presume every girl that flirts with me aims at my money."1

She snorted. "You talk as if you were a wrinkled old bachelor surrounded by social climbers," she turned to him, blunt, "I mean, do you ever even look at yourself in the mirror, Lucas? You're like ... the most gorgeous man that ever walked this earth, and I get it, some women are after your money, but I think they are just as satisfied with having you only in bed ... trust me, I know how satisfying that is."5

He stared at her wordless, yet amused, a smile slowly quirking up his lips, especially as her cheeks tinged of a deep shade of red when she swiftly mended: "I mean, um ... yeah, I ... I think those girls just wanted to be able to say they've been in your bed. That's all."

Lucas' smile widened, as he gazed at her, suddenly shy, amused by her attempts at going back to the TV show, commenting on the scenes like before. He slid a little closer, enough for the gap between them to nearly disappear, and teased: "So you like sex with me, huh?"3

She rolled her eyes, though embarrassed. "Let's just watch the show, alright?"

He chuckled. "Come on, Sam ... there's nothing wrong about it."

She sighed, turning her whole body to him. "Alright, yes, I like sex with you, no I love it, okay? I just ... love the sex we have together. Happy?"2

He bit his lip, grinning from ear to ear. "Quite a bit, yeah." She rolled her eyes. "For the record, I love sex with you, too," Lucas admitted, reaching out to brush her hip with his finger, making her feel Goosebumps, which she ignored. She was addicted to his touch, needless to deny it.2

"Ever done that?" Sam wondered, pointing at the TV, mostly just in order to change subject.

Lucas seconded her. "What? Walking down the streets in boxers and coat? I'd be in an asylum by now."

"Mmh ... nah, you'd be only labeled as eccentric."

"How was that ... you'd say strange, if he hadn't so much money, but he does, so he's just eccentric."

Sam chuckled. "You quote Reese now?"1

He shrugged. "I like the guy."

She smirked, eyeing him, amused. "You like him, huh?"

Lucas rolled his eyes, faking annoyance. "For the last time, Benedetti, I'm straight."

"Well, there would be nothing wrong if you were bisexual."

"I know for sure I like boobs."

She shrugged, barely able not to laugh. "You could always change your mind."

"Impossible."

"Never say never."

"You know what? If you weren't still weak, I'd remind you how straight I am."2

She slapped his stomach, though laughing. "Gross."

"Annoying."

She stuck out her tongue, and he laughed. Samantha was having the best time of her life, she had to admit that. Sex might have been great, but bantering with him felt way better. It was like forgetting everything else for once, being ... free.1

"I'd check your whisky before drinking, if I were you", she mused, back to the TV show, a scene where the billionaire drinks poisoned whisky.

"I don't drink", Lucas answered absentmindedly, more focused on the fact that she hadn't noticed how close their bodies were. He could hug her right now, and God knew how much he craved to, but ... she'd freak out, so he settled for placing an arm at the back of the sofa, right behind her.

"I don't believe you."

He shrugged. "I don't drink often. Never when I'm at work, and either way I don't particularly like getting drunk. I did in college, that was enough. Either way, if such a thing happened to me, Lewis would be there to save my ass, just like Reese did to the guy."

"So he's your bodyguard as well."

He shrugged. "Like I said, I can take care of myself, but you know, with my status ..."

"One is never too careful. I get it. Are there many people that would target you?"

"Uh ... for all I know, I have no enemies, but ..."

"They could be hiding in the shadows."1

Lucas smiled. "You know, completing each other's sentences is a sign of affinity."

She smiled back, though a bit impishly. "Or maybe I'm just smarter than you, Mr. Billionaire Genius", she retorted, sticking out her tongue, causing him to laugh.

"Well, I did hire you for a reason. I get tons of curricula every day, why else would I pick you in the first place if I didn't think you would be apt for the job?"1

She frowned. "My interview was with Sandra Gutierrez from HR, it was her to hire me, not you."

"Oh, really? And you think there's a leaf that moves in that building without me knowing? Besides, the interview was recorded, remember?"

"Yeah, she said all interviews are, because they're official files that can be used for legal purposes."

He nodded. "Yes, but there's another reason. Guess what."

She frowned, wondering, then clapped her hands, realizing: "Oh! Because Mr. Pervert likes watching."2

"I can't do interviews, but every single job application has to get my approval before being ratified. Sandra is the face of it, and of course, I listen to her opinion, but I decide who works for me, from my deputy to the last one of part time night janitors. I know each and every single one of the 936 employers that work in the Grant Enterprises building."1

"Why can't you do interviews?"

"Well, apparently, I ... intimidate people too much."2

Sam blinked her eyes, marveled. "You? You intimidate people? You?"1

He shrugged. "Yeah, those I interviewed, they barely stuttered monosyllabic answers to my every question. I guess it's because it's always intimidating to be face to face with the big boss. They were probably scared that one wrong word could have ruined them for life. You know, this ... billionaires are vindictive bastards trope you see everywhere. My sister reads Wattpad, and she says lots of stories talk about arrogant billionaire CEOs that get whatever they want, taking advantage of their status, so her friends ask her if her brother is the same."18

"Well, I'm not scared of you." Sam blurted out before thinking.

Lucas smiled. "Good to know."

"No, I mean it. I ..." she bit her lip, not sure why was she telling him this, "I never trust people, I always tend to presume the worst of them, but ... I-uh ... I kinda trust you, Lucas. I don't ... fear you. I ... I actually feel comfortable around you, like ... I know you won't blow up and hurt me."4

Heavy silence blanketed them, breaking the carefree bubble they'd been wallowing in for the whole afternoon. Sam didn't mean to do that, neither to admit such things, but she felt the words tugging at the tip of her tongue to be said, and, if she had to be honest, she felt better saying them. They were true. She'd never been this comfortable with another male being that wasn't her father. Not even with her ex boyfriend it was so easy.

Lucas gaped at her, taken off guard, his mouth slightly parted as he was speechless, knowing that her words held a deeper meaning. She trusted him. She believed he would not hurt her. It felt like she'd just officially accepted him into her strictly secluded circle, as if he was, from now on, officially and indubitably part of her life.

It was a huge responsibility, he knew that, just one step wrong, and the consequences would be wrecking for both, but especially for her. Yet he felt euphoric. It was a huge step in advance.1

Samantha cleared her throat, now wary, conscious that she'd knowingly breached the safe side of their thing, however she wanted to label it, therefore she turned back to the TV, willing her face into losing that bright red color that gave away her embarrassment. Because that didn't work, she resorted to standing, stretching, and yawning. "Okay, um ... I-uh ... I need some rest, I ... I'll go take a nap, if you don't mind."

For how surprised, and a little bummed, Lucas agreed. Step by step, he repeated himself as he watched her slowly walk back to his bedroom. Step by step. At least now he was inside the circle, it might be just slightly less hard to catch her heart.