He didn't laugh. Instead Sam smiled and said, "I know the feeling. More than you think." He might have been the one putting up the stop sign on their relationship, but that didn't mean that she was the only one who had spent their time wishing for something more. There were days when he'd just feel the urge to run over to her apartment and tell her to screw it all, that he was done being a moron. But he never did. At least not until now.
He didn't care where they sat. Not really. Sam's head was someplace else entirely and he didn't want to worry about thinking about anything complicated. He'd done enough of that lately (thanks, Anya). No more complicated. He didn't want it. He sat down on the edge and pulled Heather down with him, his hand still gripping on her own as he settled against the mattress. They were sitting now. This was good.
He turned to look at her. And again he couldn't help but marvel at the fact that she was so damn beautiful. "Thanks," he said quietly, smiling a little. "For...sticking around." He hoped that he didn't have to go into detail with that one. Sam hoped that she understood that he meant that he was glad that she didn't bail on him before he realized that he wanted to be with her.