Anything for You

“Delaney, come on!” Sam bellowed, pounding on the door again.

“Hold your horses,” she called as she made her way across the living room.

Swinging the door open, she gasped with surprise when she saw that he’d shaved his dreadlocks off. He looked younger, oddly, without his now-familiar dreads, and the planes and angles of his handsome face were thrown into sharper relief. She resisted the urge to curve a hand into his cheek, touched by the vulnerable boy she could see in his man’s face all of a sudden.

“You cut your hair,” she said stupidly as he pushed past her into her apartment.

Sam shrugged. “Yeah, well, I had some spare time on my hands last night,” he said sulkily.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.

Sam shook his newly shorn head. “Nothing.” Striding into the center of her living space, he propped his hands on his hips and scanned the apartment.

“So, is he still here?” he asked.

There was a definite note of belligerence in his tone, and Delaney bristled.

“Sam, I don’t know what exactly has crawled up your butt this morning, but take it back to your place and deal with it, okay?” she said shortly.

“What’s the big problem? We’re both adults. I’m just asking an adult question,” Sam said.

He was angry, agitated, she could see, and she guessed this was about her pulling out of the business.

“I know you’re pissed about me wanting to sell out of the magazine, but there’s nothing you can do about it,” she said with determination. “I’ve made my decision.”

“Did he stay the night or not, Laney?” Sam asked.

She stared at him. “Why do you suddenly care so much about my love life?” she demanded, utterly bewildered. What was really going on here?