First Choice (Sam Wilkinson/Nash Grier)

Chapter 111

"Let's get you out of here," Sam says as he grabs my bag. I hadn't even realized I had one. It says get well across the front and has a teddy bear printed on the back. Nash must have gotten it from the gift shop to hold my clothes.

"Can you walk?" He asks, slinging the bag over his shoulder and watching me push my blanket off and sit up straight. My feet hang over the side of the bed, not long enough to reach the floor. My hands tremble when I press them against my thighs to still them and I close my eyes. My breath is still shallow and my head is spinning. I'm pathetic.

"Jasmine," Worry threads through his gentle tone and I feel his arms wrap around my waist to help hoist me up.

A whimper escapes my lips and I cringe when I struggle to take another breath and my throat feels hoarse.

"Sammy," I sob, clutching my hand over his set on my hip. I feel so weak and helpless. I know it's only because I am still recovering from my anxiety attack but I feel absolutely horrible. I need... I don't even know what I need. I can't think straight but I know that Sammy is here for me. I want to depend on him but I can't trust him, I can't shake the feeling that he's going to leave any second.

"Woah, relax. I've got you baby. I'm not going anywhere, I promise." He practically coos. I have a feeling he's loving this considering I should be upset with him from our fight but that's long forgotten, I need him right now. I need him.

"Let's just get back home and I can take care of you. I don't think you've had an attack this bad in like three years." He rubs circles into my side as he hoists me up from the bed slowly. I lose my footing for a second because my legs feel like jell-o but he just tightens his hold on me. He's got me, he's got me, he's got me.

---

"Are you sure you're okay to go upstairs by yourself?" Sammy asks for the fourth time.

"Yes, I'm okay to go up ten steps," I roll my eyes and go up one step to prove my point.

"Alright, alright. I'm just gonna put our Panera leftovers away real quick and I will be up there with you." He assures me. I smile before turning back around and taking the rest of the stairs with a tight grip on the handle of the stairway.

That picture greets me in the hallway, the one of Sam watching me like I created the stars. It makes my heart melt every time I look at it.

I tap my finger over the glass of the picture frame before walking away towards Sam's room. I open his door and almost gasp at how clean it is. I can't remember the last time Sam cleaned his room this well. No clothes on the floor, no food wrappers either. His bed is even partly made. I glance over his pillows and the way his sheets peak out from under his comforter. A splash of maroon stands out from his gray bedding, tucked under his pillow, and I crawl across his bed and sit criss cross in front of his pillows. My hand comes in contact with the soft cotton material and I instantly realize what it is as I pull it out and "OBEY" is written across it in bold black letters. My hoodie.

"I brought you some water just in case. I know you drank like three glasses at Panera but I just wanted it to be there in case you wanted it later or something." His words float through my ears but I don't pay attention to them. My hoodie, the whole time I've been searching for it Sam had it.

"My hoodie, you've had it this whole time?" I ask, I don't even turn around to look at him as I clutch it to my chest and burry my face into it. The bed dips behind me and I take a shaky breath, inhaling the scent of him imbedded in the fabric.

"Oh... Yeah." He mumbles. His arm wraps around me and pulls me back until I'm sat on his lap. I glance at him over my shoulder and his eyes dilate when they meet mine. He grabs the hoodie and pulls it away from me. I try to snatch it back but he pushes my hand away playfully.