Chapter 8
Eight
Sam
I’m nervous about this first dinner with Dalton’s family, but I think I might be more nervous about spending any more time alone with Dalton.
Things got out of hand once we were alone in the bedroom.
I’d only meant to give him a blow job to help him relax some.
I didn’t know he’d want to return it. Or that I’d lose my fucking mind the minute he put his mouth on me.
Even now at the dinner table, we’re not sitting close enough to touch, but I swear I can feel the heat coming from his body. It doesn’t help that I’m wearing one of his sweaters so I’m wrapped in his scent.
It’s been a while since I’ve had anything physical with a guy, but I’d mostly pushed all thoughts of that stuff to the back of my mind so I could have focus on what mattered more. Now that Dalton’s touched me, it’s like I can’t think about anything other than when I can have his hands on me again.
Across the table, Sophia’s trying to get her son, Joey, to eat with his fork instead of his hands. Grady’s picking peas off the table that their daughter, Kelly, threw. I like the patience they have with their kids. I remember Dad hitting me once because Nathan spilled a glass of milk.
“Sam?” Ronnie’s voice cuts through my memory, and I glance up from my plate to find her and the others watching me. I’m guessing it’s not the first time she called out to me.
“I’m sorry, what was your question?”
“What do you do for a living?” Ronnie asks, spearing some asparagus with her fork. “Dalton didn’t exactly tell us a ton about you.”
“I work as a waiter at a restaurant in Haversham.” I don’t really care much for lying to them, but it’s the right decision. Dalton needs to bring home someone impressive. Or at least someone who doesn’t take his clothes off for money.
The guy at the other end of the table stops eating to watch me, but I do my best not to pay him any attention. Dalton had introduced him as his friend, Arnie, but I got the feeling Dalton simply tolerates him.
“Do you have any plans to go to school?” Levi asks.
“Um, maybe. But that’s a long way into the future. Probably not until Nathan graduates from college.”
“Nathan?” Levi asks.
“My brother. He’s eighteen, but he took two years of college courses while he was in his junior and senior year of high school. He’ll graduate this spring.”
“Are you his guardian?” Levi asks. “That why you’re waiting on him?”
“Yeah.” Not technically a legal guardian because Nathan and I just fled five years ago. “I have to get my GED first before I can even think about college.”
Dalton shifts beside me, and I start to worry that maybe I’m fucking up. How important is school to these people? Does it take automatic points away from me because I don’t even have a GED?
Though, when Levi speaks, he doesn’t sound upset. “How long have you two been on your own?”
“Five years.” I don’t mind saying it. Nathan’s finally eighteen; the state can’t step in and take him away.
“So you were, what, sixteen when you started taking care of him?”
“Yes. Our mom died when I was eight. Nathan barely remembers her. Dad started drinking a lot and . . . it just wasn’t safe anymore. So I took Nathan, and we left.”
I can tell they’re impressed I took care of Nathan when I was still a kid myself, but I don’t really see it that way. It was just what needed to be done. There was no way I was going to leave Nathan alone with Dad.
Underneath the table, Dalton puts a hand on my thigh. For a second, I’m afraid it’s a warning to tell me to stop talking, but it’s comforting. His thumb rubs a soothing circle along my outer thigh, the same way my fingers massaged his shoulder in the bedroom earlier.
“Do you have a picture of him?” Ronnie asks, pulling my attention back to her.
“Yeah.” I pull my phone from my pocket and bring up the most recent picture, the two of us at midnight on Nathan’s birthday.
Levi leans over her shoulder to see it when I turn the phone to her. “He looks just like you.”
“Yeah, we get that a lot.”
“It’s admirable,” Levi says. “That you put your life on hold for him. You’ve given up a lot for him.”
“Everything is for Nathan.” I don’t regret a single minute of it. I’d do it all over again if I were given the choice.
“I wouldn’t have put my life on hold like that,” Arnie says, his voice thick with arrogance.
“That’s because you don’t have siblings,” Sophia replies. There’s a bite in her tone, and I don’t miss the way she casts a disbelieving look at Dalton.
Grady nods beside her. “I would’ve dropped everything to help my sister if she needed it. It’s just what you do.”
Arnie’s eyes narrow; he doesn’t like that they’re disagreeing with him. Out of all the people I’ve met today, counting the tension between Dalton and his dad, Arnie’s the only one I don’t like. I hate the way he watches me. A part of me wonders if he wants to be with Dalton.
“Well, I’m so glad you two found each other,” Ronnie says. “You guys have only been here a few hours, and I can already see the effect you have on him. Thank you for making him so happy.”
My face warms, and I lower my gaze back to my plate.
“Mom, you’re embarrassing him,” Dalton says. “Harass Sohpia and Grady for a while.”
Ronnie laughs but does as he asks, turning her attention to her daughter.
Dalton keeps his hand on my thigh, and I’m thankful for how grounded it makes me feel.
I don’t like talking about my dad or remembering how bad things got before I finally ran with Nathan.
I didn’t have enough money saved from the odd jobs I’d been doing, and it was nothing short of a miracle that I managed to secure that shitty apartment.
For months after we left, I barely slept. I was so scared Dad would find us, or he’d send the police after us. I didn’t want to be separated from Nathan. I knew no one would take care of him the way I was willing to. And I had no idea what would happen to us if we were sent back to live with Dad.
While my worry slowly eased the longer we were away from him, I didn’t feel like I took my first full breath until the day Nathan turned eighteen.
I did a lot of stuff to survive, to make sure Nathan survived. Working for Vinnie was the one I hated the most, but it was necessary.
“You okay?” Dalton whispers.
I nod because I don’t trust myself to speak. I don’t want my voice to shake. It’s why I don’t like talking about my dad. I don’t like how vulnerable it all makes me feel.
So I do my best to push it all back where it belongs. I focus instead on the feel of Dalton’s warm hand on my thigh, the subtle way he leans slightly closer to me. I’ve done a lot of things to keep money flowing in, and this is my favorite by far.