Sam practically leapt back like she was on fire when she removed his arm from her shoulders. "Oh," he nodded in understanding. Figures, the one time he actually took the chance it backfired in his face. But he needed to remind himself that she wasn't like other girls. Not at all.
"Of course, I'm sorry, Emmanuelle..." he told her, eyes apologetic as he swallowed thickly. "I like you, too. And the last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable..." he explained softly. He didn't want to make a big deal of it, because it wasn't a big deal. He still liked her, and didn't like being forward like that usually. So maybe a slow pace would be better. Maybe letting her make the moves - if there were any moves to be made - was better.
To show her that it wasn't a big deal, he just moved on. "It's that one," he pointed to the button, not wanting to linger on the subject for too long and make her (and himself) uncomfortable. They had a good thing going. Even if it stayed as friendship, Sam wasn't about to turn it away.