Disclaimer: This also applies to chapter one. "Fallible" is mine. The Twilight Saga is not, and there is no copyright infringement intended. I'm only borrowing these characters, not adopting them.
09 – GIVING DISAPPROVING STARES – 09
I step out of the shower and dry myself off, my thoughts somewhere entirely different. Sam stayed with me until I fell asleep… and maybe longer since I wasn't awake when he left. A small tingle runs through me as I realize it's quite possible that he stayed for the whole night.
Humming I slip my clothes on and do my hair in a messy braid. I practically dance down the stairs and get the shock of my life when I come face to face with Sam and Uncle Harry hanging out in the kitchen. Not that it's weird to see them talking, but…
"Morning," Uncle Harry says in his smoker's voice.
Sam gives me his small smile and I force my knees to lock. I greet Uncle Harry and flash a smile back at Sam.
"If you guys are both here, who's at the store?" I ask.
"I had important things to discuss with Sam here, so I decided to close for the morning," Uncle Harry says lightly. "I might stay closed for the whole day. Sue keeps telling me it's not necessary to stay open seven days a week. She might be right."
"Hm, that's probably a good idea. Where is Aunt Sue?" I ask, absently reaching up to the top of the refrigerator to grab a box of cereal. Before my fingertips even graze the box, Sam zooms over to me and pulls it down. He hands it to me with a grin. Momentarily dazed, I can't do anything but stare at him.
Uncle Harry clears his throat, causing me to blush.
"Seth woke up with a fever and she didn't want to take any chances, so she took him to the local clinic." Strangely, he looks grim about this. I turn and open the refrigerator to get some milk, but not before I see him and Sam exchange worried glances.
"It's just a fever, right?" I ask.
They both look at me.
"I hope so," Sam mutters.
"Yeah, kid should be fine," Uncle Harry says with a nonchalance he obviously does not feel. He throws a pointed look at Sam and I feel like there's more to the story I'm not being told. As usual. I swallow down my bitterness and remind myself that I don't have the right to know everyone's secrets.
I sit down at the table with my bowl of cereal.
"So, how was the trip to Peninsula?" Uncle Harry asks in an obvious effort to change the subject.
Though, considering, it probably isn't the best topic. Blushing again, I chance a glance at Sam. He's looking right at me with a tortured sort of expression.
"It was fine," I say, forcing enthusiasm. "I really like the feel of the school. Transportation shouldn't be a problem, either."
"Good, good," Uncle Harry says with a cough. "Did you have a chance to take a look at the apartments?"
"Oh, no… I… forgot," I say, rather unconvincingly. I deliberately don't look at Sam this time.
"Just as well. It's a waste of money. I'm sure your parents would agree to you staying right here in La Push near family."
I don't say anything.
"I offered to let her stay with me… in the extra bedroom. For free," Sam speaks up.
Uncle Harry raises his eyebrows. "Well, now, there's an idea."
I suppress the urge to roll my eyes. As if he didn't already practically suggest it to me himself. "Indeed," I mutter.
"You should consider it," Uncle Harry says, somewhat insistently.
At this, I give a small chuckle and shake my head. "I can consider it all I like, but you know my parents will never approve."
He and Sam glance at each other again, and this time I am annoyed. It's obvious they're in cahoots, and I wonder if this was a topic of discussion before I came down for breakfast. I wouldn't be surprised.
"I think the positives outweigh any potential negatives," Uncle Harry says gently.
I roll my eyes. "No offense," I say in Sam's direction, before I turn back towards Uncle Harry, "But who's going to vouch for Sam's good character? Aunt Sue?" It is on the tip of my tongue to add Leah's name, but there's no point. It's silent, but the implication is there.
Uncle Harry coughs again, so much this time that tears form in his eyes. I offer him some water, but he waves a hand at me to decline. "You worry too much," he says between coughs.
I turn to Sam, but he just watches me contemplatively. "I just don't see how my parents will go along with it," I say, insistently.
He makes a noncommittal noise that I couldn't figure out the meaning of if I tried. It does manage to make me feel guilty, though. I know deep down that I'm not even trying, and it's unfair to Sam, especially after I told my dad he was worth it.
Do I want to move in with Sam? Relationship-wise, no way. As far as I know, we're not even technically dating… or, well, I agreed to a summer romance. So to move in as his girlfriend? Too much, too soon.
But to move in as his roommate? It would mean having a room to call my own. It would mean personal space. It would mean being out of range of Aunt Sue's disapproving stare and Leah's inevitable vendetta against me. It would mean that my parents wouldn't have to spend nearly as much money. It would mean that I would get to live year-round in La Push, which is something I've wanted to do since I was little.
Not to mention, Sam and I wouldn't have to sneak around.
I feel my resolve weaken. Uncle Harry is right. The positives definitely outweigh the negatives.
I sigh. "I don't think they'll like it, but I'll talk to them," I finally say. Uncle Harry and Sam both smile, though they've won nothing. Not really.
They just don't know my parents the way I –
- I wince. My brother, Matt's voice is so loud that I have to hold the phone away from my ear.
"ARE YOU INSANE? YOU'VE ONLY KNOWN THIS GUY FOR WHAT? TWO MONTHS AND YOU'RE READY TO MOVE IN WITH HIM? ARE YOU CRACKED?"
"He's not a stranger!" I argue. "He's my best friend! And he's Leah's ex! She was going to marry him and move in with him! It's the same guy!"
Matt laughs, but it's a sarcastic one. "Right. That makes me feel better. Because there's nothing wrong with that scenario."
Mom's reaction isn't much better.
"So let me get this straight… You want to move in with the man who was engaged to Leah? And she approves of this? Wait, is that the same guy you were worried didn't like you a little while ago? He sure seems to like you an awful lot now… Emily, are you dating him?"
"No! We're just friends, Mom!" Because technically, we're not really dating. And I did offer to be his friend… in the beginning.
"I don't know, Emily. Something about this doesn't sit right with me. What was his explanation for breaking up with Leah?" she asks.
I sigh. "Moving in with Sam has nothing to do with Leah, Mom. But because Leah isn't going to move out after all, there's a… vacancy in his house."
"A vacancy in his bed, more like!" Mom exclaims.
"No! Look, if they were still together, I would be able to stay with Aunt Sue and Uncle Harry," A pang shoots through me at the thought. "But because they're not together anymore, there's not going to be any room for me there. And I would really like to stay in La Push. Uncle Harry trusts Sam, Mom! He's not a bad guy."
She clicks her tongue. "I just don't know…"
"What's wrong with living in the dorms, again?" Dad asks, when I get a chance to speak to him about it.
"There aren't any dorms, Dad," I say, warily. "Only off-campus apartments."
"Okay, so what's wrong with the apartments, then? Seems to me, they'd be more convenient."
"I don't want to be that far away from La Push," I respond. "Plus, they're super expensive."
"So what? We'll pay for them. We're going to be paying for everything else. Maybe we could get you a roommate, split the bill," he says, as if it's no big deal.
I should've known my dad would be the hardest to argue with. He's logical to a fault.
"I don't want to live with someone I don't know," I say.
"If a roommate is the issue, you can live alone. We'll still pay for it."
"Dad – "
"Maybe we could even find you a nice little place to rent in La Push – "
"Dad, no. Stop. This is all so unnecessary," I say. "Everyone knows Sam. He's lived here his whole life. He works in Uncle Harry's store. Leah was going to move in with him at the end of the summer. I don't see what the difference between her and me is, besides the fact that she would have been moving into his bedroom, and I'm just looking to move into his spare room."
"Your mother and I don't like the idea of you moving in with a man straight out of high school. Especially when you know perfectly well that you won't stay in that spare room for long."
"Matt moved in with Meghan right after high school!" I protest, my face flaring at his suggestive words. "And don't say it's okay for him because he's a boy. That's sexist, Dad."
"It's okay for him because he and Meghan were high school sweethearts who have known each other for years."
"I've known Sam for years," I retort with a passion I don't really feel because I know that's not really true. I've known who he is, and we've even spoken before, but I haven't really known him until now.
I think about the secrecy in his eyes from time to time… and sometimes, I feel like I don't even really know him now. For the first time, I feel doubt creeping up on me.
"No, Leah's known Sam for years," Dad says, gently, his words my Kryptonite.
I feel myself deflate. "You haven't met him," I say, desperately. "What if you met him first? Can you meet him and then decide?"
"Emily," He sighs.
"Dad, please," I beg. "If you meet him and you say no, then I won't bring it up again, I swear."
"Until next semester," he grumbles, and I laugh, hope stirring in my heart.
There just may be a chance after –
- after I've talked to the three of them, I realize that I have to face my toughest challenge of all: Aunt Sue.
I wait until after dinner, as people are generally happier and more relaxed after they've eaten, and I know this is not going to be a happy or relaxed conversation. I need all the help I can get.
Uncle Harry knows my plan and he ushers Seth out of the kitchen as soon as they're both done. I send him a grateful look, though my nerves are on edge.
"Aunt Sue?" I say, steeling myself.
"Yes?" She puts the last of the dishes away and turns to face me.
"I've found a potential living arrangement," I say, mustering up some strength in my voice.
"Have you?" She raises an eyebrow.
"Yes. I've talked to my parents about it, and they're more or less on board." I know I'm stalling, but I can't help it. It was one thing telling my parents over the phone. It's quite different telling Aunt Sue – who can be a rather intimidating mother-figure – in person.
I draw myself up to my full height, and take a deep breath.
"I'm going to move into Sam Uley's spare bedroom, as his roommate." The words come out feather-soft, not at all how I intended, but it doesn't matter. She heard and her eyebrows are in danger of disappearing into her hairline.
"You're going to what?" she asks, her tone like ice.
"Move into…" I trail off at her face expression.
"You most certainly are not," she says, crossing her arms.
I blink in surprise. "Aunt Sue – "
"Your parents are not here, meaning they don't see you every day, so they may not have an entirely clear picture of what's going on here. But I do and I know. I've not naïve enough to believe that you and Sam are just friends. I've seen the way you two look at each other, so please, don't try to deny it. I thought you had more sense than that, Emily."
I stare at her, openmouthed. I'm literally speechless.
"It's disheartening to have to say that I'm disappointed in you. Do you have any idea how heartbroken Leah is going to be?"
That question cuts deep and it gives me my powers of speech back. "I don't think I should be made to feel terrible because I developed feelings for someone," I say, slowly. "If Sam had dated any other girl before me – "
"If Sam had dated any other girl before you, then I would give you my blessing. Not to move in together – that's extremely inappropriate – but to embark on a romantic relationship, fine. If I hadn't been witness to how he hurt my daughter, then I would continue to think of him as a fine, upstanding citizen, the way I used to.
"But he didn't date any other girl. He dated your cousin. And for that reason, it's horrible of you to even consider this appalling idea. Where is your head, Emily? A few weeks ago, you swore to Leah that you would never betray her by giving in to Sam's wishes, and now you've turned around and done just that. I shouldn't have to tell you that moving in with him is going to destroy her."
Over the course of her speech, tears have formed in my eyes, and now they spill over.
"So, you're saying I should sacrifice my happiness for Leah's," I say, my voice thick with emotion. It isn't a question.
Aunt Sue's mouth becomes a thin line. "I always thought you were a good influence on Leah. I never expected you to be the selfish one."
Those words pierce my heart so deeply that I can't do anything, but cry. I have no response to that. I have become selfish, I know it. I leave Aunt Sue standing in the kitchen and I go out the front door. She doesn't call my name for me to come back and doesn't ask where I'm going.
She already knows.
I sprint as fast as I can to Sam's house. It's raining lightly and I don't have a jacket, or anything. I'm wearing a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. I'm probably going to get sick again, but I can't bring myself to care.
Nearby, a dog howls, too close for comfort. This only prompts me to run faster.
I get to Sam's house in record time and the front door flies open before I even get close enough to knock. Sam is standing there, worry evident all over his face. He's shirtless as usual with nothing but a pair of cutoffs on. He's also wet, and I figure he must have been outside recently, or in the shower.
Without preamble, I throw myself into his arms. He welcomes me without question, pulling me inside and shutting the door. We end up on the couch. I let the tears fall and he rocks me back and forth.
I don't know how long we stay that way, but I know it's a while.
I must have fallen asleep as some point because when I come to, it's dark. I'm laying down on a bed and Sam's arms are wrapped around me. This doesn't instill the panic inside me that it should until I realize that my legs are bare.
I sit up slowly, confused and realize that my clothes are gone and I'm wearing a button-up long-sleeve shirt. My bra and panties are still on, but it doesn't discount the fact that Sam changed my clothes.
Shocked, I scramble away from him, causing him to stir.
"Emily?" he says, his voice startling in the quiet. I don't say anything. My heart is pounding. In the darkness, my eyes are adjusted enough to see him reach over and turn on a lamp. I blink, owlishly, and he focuses his attention on me.
"What's wrong?" he asks.
Looking down at myself, I see that the shirt he put on me is white. And huge. A white button-up shirt. Classic. Although, it's buttoned up, I clutch it at the front like I would a robe with no sash.
"What's wrong?" he asks again, sitting up fully. He's still not wearing a shirt.
"You ch-changed my clothes," I stammer, blushing all over.
His own face turns red, but he keeps eye-contact. "I didn't want you to get sick," he explains.
"You could've woken me up. I – " am absolutely mortified. He put me in a white shirt! It's practically see-through.
"I didn't look," he says, quickly. It's obvious that this is a lie.
"Is this… is this your bed?" I ask, even though I already know the answer.
"I wasn't sure if you would want to stay with me or in the other room," he says quietly, staring at the ground now. "Sorry, I shouldn't have assumed. I'll go in the other room." He slips out of the covers and stands up. He's wearing nothing but boxers. My heart begins to drum out a different rhythm.
"No, don't," I say, softly. I'm pathetic. Just one look at him and I'm ready to forgive him anything.
He looks up at me. "Sorry," he repeats, a pained expression on his face.
I think about him undressing me and I feel myself pulse down below.
"Is… is there anything else I can wear? I don't feel… comfortable in this," I say, averting his gaze.
He goes over to his closet and manages to find an old t-shirt and some cutoff sweatpants. Clothes I will drown in, but I'm grateful nonetheless.
"The shirt was easiest for me to put on you," he says, that same apologetic tone in his voice.
"It's fine," I say, faintly. With me holding clothes I'm going to change into, suddenly the entire atmosphere of the room changes for me.
He automatically starts to turn around, but without quite knowing what's come over me, I give a tiny cough. It gets his attention. He looks up me, questioningly.
"You've already seen, right?" I whisper, gesturing towards my body.
His mouth opens slightly. "I…I didn't look," he says, hoarsely. "I tried not to." He looks so ashamed, but that's not my goal here.
I shake my head and give him the tiniest of smiles. "It's okay, Sam," I say, softly.
Nervously, I keep eye-contact with him and I unbutton the top button of my shirt. His eyes dart down and back up to my face. He looks as nervous as I feel. This gives me a tiny boost of confidence, and my fingers move more quickly over the remaining buttons.
Slowly, I ease the shirt off, fighting the urge to bite my lip or make any other sort of nervous gesture. His eyes roam over my chest, and although I'm still wearing my bra, I feel utterly exposed. I reach for the t-shirt he gave me, but he clears his throat, and puts his arms out towards me.
Heart-pounding fiercely, I walk over to him and allow him to put his hands on my waist. His hands run up and down painfully slow, the tips of his fingers skimming the edges of my breasts. He grips my waist again, harder this time and pulls me to him so that I'm standing in between his legs at the foot of the bed where he's sitting.
His face is level with my chest, but he leans down and tongue-kisses my bellybutton. A small moan escapes me, and once again, I'm glad he's holding me up. He slowly works his way up, planting open-mouthed kisses everywhere until he gets between my breasts.
He makes eye-contact with me again, and his hands slowly slide up until they're cupping my breasts. I let out another moan and my eyes close of their own accord. He squeezes gently. Then, without warning, I feel his mouth close over one of my clothed nipples. I gasp and my eyes fly open. The heat combined with his tongue and the suction of his mouth, even through my bra feels exquisite. His fingers give ample attention to my other nipple as his mouth works my right. Just when I summon up the courage to ask if he can remove my bra, he switches nipples and my words die in my throat. I'm gasping in pleasure and clutching at his shoulders, and I can't understand why it feels like I've never done this before… why it's never felt like this before with anyone.
He finishes his attack on my nipples, but to my displeasure, he doesn't take off my bra. He keeps French-kissing my body… the tops of my breasts… my collarbone… my neck… upwards and upwards until he reaches my mouth, and when he does, I wrap my arms around him tightly, pressing my body against his.
Remembering when we were in Leah's room, I climb on top of him again, his sex perfectly lined up with mine. He's hard, and we have no barriers save for his boxers and my thin panties. His hands slip down to cup my butt again, and he pulls me right up against his hardness.
He makes a noise in the back of his throat that I'm sure is a moan, and I rub my wetness against his hardness once more. He makes the same noise again and his eyes flutter closed. Frantically, we kiss one another as we thrust into each other's private spots over and over again. I rub my body against his and he responds by tightening his grip on me even further.
I feel my stomach tightening up. Shocked, I realize that I'm about to orgasm. Sweat creates the perfect friction for both of our bodies, and I allow him to thrust into me harder and harder. My bra is still on, but he sucks on my nipples again. The crescendo builds, both of us breathing heavily.
"S-Sam!" His name bursts out of me. His eyes fly open, lock with mine, and my core flies apart. He holds me as I gasp, my body shuddering as I ride out the waves of my orgasm.
"Emily," he whispers, faintly, and suddenly feel him jerk around me. His eyes stay locked with mine as he lets out a choked sound, and I feel him throbbing down below. His face is stunning as he rides out his own orgasm, holding my hips just a little bit too tightly. He presses his hard-on into me and gasps at the sensation. Then, his eyes close and he rests his head on my shoulder.
He mumbles something that I don't hear because I'm too busy trying to calm my racing heartbeat. The question, 'what just happened here?' goes without saying. I can practically feel it hanging in the air, the sudden tension is so thick.
"Hm?" I say in response to his question, all elegance lost.
"Was that okay?" he says, softly, almost like he's afraid to voice the question aloud. His head is still on my shoulder, but I don't mind, since I'm scared to look him in the eyes right now.
"I don't know." The response comes out of me before I can really think about it, but I immediately know it to be true. I don't know if that was okay. I don't know how I feel about it. And I'm not sure if I'll regret it in the morning.
At my words, he stiffens, and slowly pulls away from me. I stare down at his chest, but I can feel his eyes on my face now.
"Emily?" he says. Belatedly, I wonder if he meant something different by the question… if he was really asking, 'Was I okay?' as in, his performance. My face colors and I force myself to look into his eyes. He looks worried… concerned… and a little bit sad.
"You were fine," I say, quickly, in an attempt to clear things up. "We were fine. I-I liked it. I'm just not sure if I was ready for it."
He doesn't answer me. He seems to be struggling for something to say, and I really, really hope those elusive words aren't, 'I'm sorry,' because he has nothing to apologize for.
He opens he mouth, but before he can get any words out, I lean over and kiss him, effectively shutting him up. When we come up for air, he looks surprised, but I'm relieved to see that he has a small smile on his face.
"I'm not blaming you for anything," I say, my face flaming now. "It was just… very spontaneous. And I feel like if we're going to take things to another level, maybe the best way next time would be to talk about it first."
He nods, serious again. Then suddenly grimaces. I tilt my head sideways in confusion. "I should probably get cleaned up…" he explains, his hands going to my waist. He gently lifts me off his lap.
I can't help myself. I start to laugh and he shakes his head at me before leaving the room.
I sigh, and sit down on the bed in the hot spot he just vacated. In spite of everything, I start to wonder if it really is possible that everything will work out. I hope so.
The next morning, it's my turn to work the early shift at the store and after Sam brings me breakfast in bed, all my anxiety at facing down Aunt Sue returns.
Sam reminds me that Uncle Harry is on my side until I point out that by the time I get to the house, Uncle Harry will have left for the store already, and Aunt Sue will be on her way back to the house with the car. Sam offers to go with me, but I decline, knowing that his presence will only cement things for Aunt Sue and make it worse.
He walks me to the house anyways, but we both spot the car in the driveway, and I don't let him come inside. He kisses me goodbye, though, and I turn towards the house in time to see a curtain ripple in the window. My heart sinks.
Tentatively, I use my key to get into the front door, hoping that I imagined the curtain moving. No such luck. Aunt Sue is standing in the kitchen. She doesn't say a word to me, just keeps on pretending to be busy, though as far as I can tell, she's not actually doing anything.
Stifling my hurt, I walk past and up to Leah's room. I jump in the shower quickly, change clothes, and walk back downstairs, hoping to avoid a confrontation.
She clears her throat just as I put my hand on the doorknob and I freeze. I turn towards her, preparing for the worst.
Her entire demeanor is cold. Her arms are crossed, she's standing perfectly straight and her eyebrows are raised, as if she's daring me to speak. I keep silent.
"Leah will be back in a week and a half," she says, haltingly, though it's her words that make my blood run cold. "If you plan to continue with this… debacle, I suggest you get things in motion before then. I refuse to be put in the position of listening to her cries of pain if she actually has to see you moving into her fiancée's house. It's already going to be hard enough for her to deal with your betrayal. She shouldn't have to witness it, firsthand, as well."
I'm sure the shock on my face right now would be comical to anyone who didn't know the situation. As it is, I feel like I've been hit by a truck. Or a few dozen.
Leah's coming back. And Aunt Sue is kicking me out.
But somehow neither of these bombshells compare with the sudden anger I feel at the way she's treating me. Yes, maybe I made some bad decisions. Maybe I could've fought harder. But I am not a bad person. I didn't intentionally set out to hurt Leah. And I don't deserve this.
"Ex-fiancée," I say, in a hard tone I've never used with Aunt Sue.
Aunt Sue pauses in her glowering. "Excuse me?" she says, her eyebrows practically disappearing into her hairline.
I narrow my eyes, adrenaline pumping through my veins and fueling me.
"Sam is Leah's ex-fiancée," I say, my voice as deliberately cold as hers. Her eyes widen and her mouth gapes like a fish. I don't stick around to listen to what she has to say. Now the conversation is over.
For the next few days, Aunt Sue gives me the cold shoulder, and it makes things quite awkward at the dinner table, but thankfully no more harsh words are exchanged. Because of the awkwardness, however, I spend more and more time over at Sam's house, to the point where sometimes I'm there by myself when Sam is working and I'm not. And I really, really don't mind that.
Sometimes Jared stops by when I'm there alone, and strangely, ever since Sam had our big make-out scene, the awkwardness has completely disappeared between Jared and me. I wonder if he knows about it, but I don't dare bring it up. I'm grateful for the company he provides, and I think it's really sweet how he obviously puts Sam up on a high pedestal. A lot of the time, we end up talking about Sam – our mutual best friend - which is something else I really, really don't mind.
In my head, I've begun a countdown for when Leah is due back and I don't pretend that I'm not dreading it. I know Sam is, too, and I'm probably driving him crazy with all my worrying, but he's always there to listen whenever I need it.
At the 'five days until she's back' point, Jared and Sam come over in the jeep. I bring my freshly re-packed things downstairs under Aunt Sue's disapproving gaze, and Sam hauls into the backseat of the jeep after helping me into my seat. I watch Aunt Sue watching us out of the window with pursed lips, but thankfully, she never says a word. Part of me wants to wave as we drive off, but I know she would see it as a mocking wave, so I don't. In that moment, I really miss my mother –
" – mother asked you. I thought you were going to wait until we came down there and approved of this guy, Emily?" Dad says.
"Aunt Sue thought it would be best if I was gone before Leah got home," I reply. "She wanted to avoid awkwardness and potential fights."
I don't want to tell them that Aunt Sue kicked me out, so I try to phrase it in a different way. But there's no point. Dad's always been able to see right through me.
"That damn Sue," my dad mutters, shocking me.
"Dad!"
"If I told your mother once, I told her twice, her cousin spoils those kids ridiculously. I knew she wasn't going to treat you the same as them. I've been telling Jo-Anne for years that I didn't want you going down there every summer."
"Dad, Aunt Sue never mistreated me." I don't want him to get the wrong idea.
"Emily, she's kicking you out because she doesn't want to upset Leah and that's just ridiculous. You are her kinship, not some friend of a friend who asked to stay over. Who runs that house? She and Harry or Seth and Leah?"
I sigh. I don't bother arguing with him because he's right, for one, and for two, I'm not feeling all that friendly towards Aunt Sue at the moment.
"Seth and Harry aren't so bad," I say, instead. "Actually, Uncle Harry's been wonderful."
"Not wonderful enough to tell her to knock it off," Dad says.
No, but me moving in with Sam is right up Uncle Harry's alley, so he's the last person who would argue with Aunt Sue. It was practically his idea.
That's something I can't exactly explain to my dad, so I just change the subject.
"When are you coming down to meet Sam?" I ask.
"A little after your mom gets home from her vacation. Maybe another two weeks or so. Have you registered for school? Picked your classes? I'm sure there's a way we could pay for it all online, or over the phone."
"Yeah, I was planning to do that this week," I assure him. I wasn't, though, so it's a good thing he reminded me. With all of my Leah-worrying, it had completely slipped my mind.
"Well, get on with it, even if you need to take a day off from the store to get up to Port Angeles," he says. "These things have deadlines, you know. Harry will understand. Hell, he practically owes you for not having your back."
"Uncle Harry's fine, Dad," I insist.
"Yeah, yeah," he grumbles. "And you can take care of yourself and all."
"Will Matt come with you guys?" I ask, tentatively.
"Probably. He doesn't like to leave Meghan now that she's pregnant again, but he's not too happy with your living arrangements, either, so I wouldn't be surprised if he bummed a ride."
I sigh again. I really hope they don't try to gang up on Sam, or anything. I know Matt can be a big bully when he feels it's necessary; it's part of the reason I didn't do much dating in high school.
Right then, the front door opens and Sam comes inside, his head immediately twisting to find me. He spots me on the couch and the corners of his mouth turn upwards in a smile. A deep sense of calm comes over me and my worries vanish instantly.
They can try whatever they want. I don't need to worry. I'm more than confident Sam can handle them on his own. My answering smile takes over my entire face –
" – face was like… like… I don't know. Like something out of a movie!" Jared says. He can barely talk from laughing.
"You shouldn't have been showing off," Uncle Harry retorts. "You know better than that."
Jared flexes a muscle, causing Sam to roll his eyes and me to laugh again. "Hey, if she wants to work here, she would have to get used to my supreme hotness."
Uncle Harry shakes his head. "You seem to be forgetting that you're going to be starting school again soon. What am I supposed to do when you're in class all day, Emily's in class all day, and Sam doubles his construction work hours?"
At this, I stop laughing and look at Sam, surprised. He looks at me, and then immediately looks away, unintentionally clueing me in that something's up.
"Oh, right," Jared says, sheepishly. "Want me to go after her?"
Uncle Harry narrows his eyes. "No, that would make it worse and you know it."
"You would probably scar her for life," Sam mutters. Jared punches him in the shoulder hard enough to make me gasp, but Sam doesn't even react. His shoulder is bright red and quickly forming a bruise. Sam glares at Jared, but oddly, Jared looks at me apologetically.
"Are you okay?" I ask, looking up into Sam's face from where I'm standing right next to him.
"Fine," he says, his gaze softening as he looks at me. "It's not as bad as it looks. It'll be gone by morning."
I give him a disbelieving glance, but he doesn't appear to be in any pain whatsoever, and he just smiles at me, so I let it go.
Uncle Harry is annoyed at Jared for scaring off a potential employee, so he gives Sam the option to go home while making Jared stay longer. When Jared protests, Uncle Harry threatens to call his mother and explain that Sam can't work because Jared injured his arm. The thought is ridiculous, but there's really nothing Jared can do besides glower. This time, Sam laughs as he walks out of the store ahead of me, swinging his 'injured' arm exaggeratedly.
"You and Uncle Harry are terrible," I say teasingly as soon as we get outside.
Sam laughs again and hugs me tightly.
"What do you want for dinner tonight?" he asks, letting me go. A second later, he slips his hand into mine.
I find myself answering when I suddenly remember what Uncle Harry said a few minutes ago.
"You're doubling your construction hours in the Fall?" I ask.
I feel his hand tense in mine.
"Yes," he says, lightly.
"This doesn't have anything to do with me moving in, does it?" I ask, already knowing the answer.
He stops walking and turns to me, reaching out for my other hand.
"Emily, there's nothing wrong with me making sure I can provide for whatever you need. I meant it when I told you that you wouldn't have to pay for anything."
"I'll be working, too, though," I say. "I don't want you to have to pay for everything. If you have a problem with me paying half the bills, I can help out in other ways. I can buy groceries, toilet paper, standard household items – "
He shakes his head. "No, Emily that's ridiculous. I don't want you to have to. You shouldn't have to."
"What, why?" I say, bewildered. "Sam, I'm not helpless, okay? I want to help. I need to help. I can't just live off of your… charity. It doesn't feel right."
"It's not charity. It's… me taking care of you," he says softly. My heart lurches, and butterflies start to dance in my stomach. But…
"But, we're roommates," I say, gently pulling my hands out of his. "It's complicated because we're together, too, but I don't want to blur the lines, here."
"What do you mean?" he asks, genuinely confused.
"I didn't… I didn't move in with you because we're in a relationship," I say, and I realize it's the first time I've actually said 'in a relationship' out loud. Sam notices, but he doesn't say anything. He waits for me to continue.
"I didn't move in with you because of that. I did it because… you're my best friend, and I needed a place to stay for the school year. I want to live with you, but not… not as your… um, girlfriend. It's why I need to have my own room. My things aren't in there just to fool my parents when they come to visit, or anyone else. I honestly plan to continue using it after they're gone.
"But even if I was moving in with you like that, you should know that I'm not the type of person who wants or needs to be taken care of… unless the person I'm with allows me to take care of him as well. So if this is going to work out, I need us to be equals. I need you to not take on extra hours you don't need, and I need you to work with me, instead of for me."
I finish my big speech and look at him uncertainly. He's looking at me in what I can only describe as awe. I feel myself going red and I clear my throat.
"The groceries should be fine," he finally says, and I grin from ear-to-ear.
I take his hand again, and we go home –
- home tomorrow, and I'm nothing short of terrified. I can barely concentrate at work, I'm so busy looking at the clock. It doesn't help that time is flying by ridiculously fast. One minute I'm just arriving to start my shift and within the next few, I'm putting on one of Sam's hoodies to go home in.
He's not there to meet me afterwards because it's one of his construction days, but Uncle Harry offers me a ride with Aunt Sue. I decline and he frowns, unhappy about the tension between us, but he doesn't push me to reconcile with her, and for that, I am grateful.
I walk past the car, my head down, so I won't make eye contact.
"Emily!"
I jump, but turn to see Seth waving out the back window. I smile, and my eyes unconsciously slide to the front window. Aunt Sue stares straight ahead and the smile slips off my face. Seth rolls his eyes pointedly at his mother. It would make me laugh if the situation wasn't so serious.
Instead I shrug, wave again, and continue on my way.
I get home, figuring I'll just take a nap until Sam gets home, but I'm so wired that I can't make myself keep my eyes closed for more than a few seconds.
On an impulse, I decide to do something productive and go grocery shopping. Luckily, there is one within walking distance. Unfortunately, since Sam isn't with me to help carry bags, I won't be able to get as much as I would like to, but at least we'll have some food in the house. And that's better than takeout and/or pizza every night.
The entire process eats up the time I hoped it would, and Sam actually calls me on my cell phone before I leave the store. He offers to come help, but I know he's probably tired, so I decline saying that next time we'll borrow Jared's jeep. It occurs to me that Sam might be right about one thing – my life would certainly be easier if I could save up for a car.
I make it back home in record time, even carrying three bags in each hand. I have motivation now that I know Sam's there.
He greets me at the door and lifts the bags out of my arms.
"I could've helped," he says, giving disapproving stares at the red marks on my arms. They're not too bad because I'm wearing more than one layer of clothing.
"Stop it, I'm fine," I say, lightly. Together, we put the food away. At first he tries to make me sit down, but I argue, bringing up the point that if I don't help him, I won't know where everything goes. He still manages to work faster than I do, to the point where sometimes he lifts things out of my hands to put away, but my exhaustion is starting to catch up to me, so I don't protest.
By the time we finish, I'm yawning, so he forcibly leads me to the couch and pushes me down. I roll my eyes, but again, I don't say anything.
He quickly puts together two plates of jelly sandwiches and apples with peanut butter as dip, one of my favorite things to eat. Surprisingly, we found that we have a lot of food preferences in common.
"I took off from work for tomorrow," he says, after we've finished eating and he's cleaned everything up.
"Why?" I say.
"Because Harry told me he gave you the day off, and I know you're going to be here all day worried about Leah. I don't want you to be alone."
I feel tears starting to form in my eyes.
"I'm worried she might show up," I admit, feeling like a huge baby. I'm not scared of Leah, but I've had more than enough confrontation with family members lately.
"The thought crossed my mind," Sam says, pulling me into his lap, his chest warm against my back. He rests his chin on my head. "I know that you can handle yourself, but I don't want you to have to be alone."
I turn my head, reach up and kiss him gently on the lips. I'm more grateful than he will ever know.
"Thank you, Sam," I whisper.
He reaches down and kisses me again, longer this time. Tonight, instead of cuddling with me until I fall asleep and then leaving as has been his habit lately, I ask him to stay –
" – stay inside all day waiting for the inevitable. Let's go out somewhere and do something, get our minds off of it," Sam suggests the next morning.
It's a great idea, a wonderful idea actually. But I can't.
"No," I shake my head. "We know Leah. We know she's going to come over today, and if we're not here, she'll just come back tomorrow. Or she'll find us at Uncle Harry's store, or something. I don't want to have to walk around on eggshells waiting for her to find me. I'd rather it happen sooner than later. Maybe by the time my parents get here, things will have calmed down."
He doesn't say anything, just kisses me sweetly on the cheek. It never ceases to amaze me how he always knows when to be exactly what I need. I just hope I'm doing the same thing for him.
We spend the day curled up on the couch, watching movies and watching the front door. Frustratingly enough, time seems to be creeping by, and I wonder if she's going to come at all, or if we have her pegged wrong and this was just a waste of a day.
Sam gets up to go to the bathroom at one point after we've eaten lunch and I glance at the clock. It's almost three. I don't know the details of her flight, but Uncle Harry said that she was due in early this morning, so unless the plane was delayed, she's been back home for a while now.
I sigh, force myself to calm down, then stand up and have a nice long stretch. I flop back down and prop my legs up on the couch, taking up the entire length of it. Sam comes back and pauses. I smile at him, innocently.
I guess that does something to him because he suddenly swoops down and kisses me on the mouth, long and hard. I gasp in surprise which gives him the opportunity to enter his tongue into my mouth. He strokes my tongue with his, sending flashes of heat down to my private area every time our tongues make contact.
He's kneeling on the floor, and his left hand comes up to rest on my exposed stomach where my tank top has risen up. I make a muffled gasp when his heated hand touches my skin. I decide I want more contact.
Without sitting up, I reach out with my left hand and make tugging motions on his arm. He instantly knows what I want, but since the couch is too small, I find myself being picked up and gently lowered to the floor. He wastes no time in nestling himself on top of me and in between my legs, and all this without breaking our kiss. I am impressed.
Even though he's wearing his standard cut-off shorts and no shirt, I'm reveling in the way my bare thighs feel squeezed around his midsection. I'm only wearing shorts myself and with a tank top, all the heat radiating from his body is making me crazy.
I don't think he notices that he's making slight thrusting motions with his hips, but every time I feel his bulge pressing into me I let out the barest of moans. He balances himself with his left arm and runs his right hand down the side of my body as far down as he can reach. He runs back up and slips his fingers under the hemline of my shorts, caressing my outer thigh. He sucks at my pulse point on my throat and I shiver from all of the sensations.
He presses his weight more fully against my center, and I shock both of us by thrusting up rather forcefully into his erection. He stills for a moment, and heat floods my body as I worry that I've done something wrong.
"Was that okay?" I ask in a tiny voice, echoing his words from a while ago.
His eyes search mine. "Only if it was okay for you," he responds. "I don't want to do something you'll regret later."
Stopping to think like this isn't exactly what I had in mind when I said next time I want to talk about it. My body is telling me more, more, more, but my mind is telling me that I'm only doing this for the relief factor. Well, not only for that reason, but it is true that I'm stressed, I'm wound up, and I know that this is something completely distracting that will get my mind off of the fact that Leah could show up at any moment.
Is that a bad thing, though? Stress relievers can be good things, too.
"I don't want you to feel used," I finally say.
He laughs a bit. "Trust me, I don't."
I smile and start to pull him back down, but he resists. I look at him questioningly.
He gives me a tiny smile. "I don't feel used, but… I would rather we do this when all of your attention is on us," he says, softly.
I nod, agreeing with him, and a warmth floods through me as I realize that he's captured exactly what I've been trying to say. Of course.
He leans down for another kiss, but his lips barely brush against mine when the front door is thrown open with a loud crash.
Response to Alohaeme/Amy: This reader asked if there was anything you guys could do to get me to update quicker, and I felt I should respond, and just let it be known that sadly, no. There isn't. There's nothing you can do. I love the reviews, and I love the reviewers, and I love the people who are reading and adding me to their story and/or author alert lists, and I even love the people who just read it without saying anything. I appreciate all of it. I really, really do. It makes my day when I open my email and I see two or three reviews for this story, or any of my stories.
But honestly, as happy as your reviews make me, they don't have any magic powers to make me write faster. I'm sorry, but one thing I promised myself when I wrote this story was that I wasn't going to rush a chapter just to appeal to my readers. I've done that before, and the chapter that I rush usually turns out being craptastic. Yes, I'm writing it for fun, but I'm also writing it so that I'll improve as a writer. Therefore, when I update is totally up to me and if I feel like the chapter is good enough to be released into the fanfiction world, then I'll release it.
Lately, I've been trying to get on this routine where I update at least once every week or two, just because I don't like to keep you guys waiting forever, to the point where you have to go back and read the last chapter before you can understand what's happening in this one. So I do apologize for any month-long gaps between updates. I hate when my favorite authors do that to me, which is why I mostly only read completed stories, myself.
I'm sorry if it disappoints anyone, but I rather take a year to give you a fantastic story, than three months to give you a mediocre one. So I guess the one thing I CAN promise is that I will not abandon this story. And if I ever do abandon it, it means I probably died.
With all that said, I hope you all enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Hopefully, the next will be out soon.
- FadingSlowly