34. Chapter 34
Lisa pulls her beat-up Honda up to the curb in front of the Italian restaurant and sighs. “Well, here you go. Are you sure about this?”
“No.” I shake my head slowly, staring at the lit up sign front.
“It is sort of the opposite of your plan to avoid him until after the holiday break.”
I roll my eyes at her judgmental tone. “I know that.”
“It’s not too late,” she says melodically, like she’s trying to persuade me. “I can still drive away if you want.”
“I don’t think I want you to.”
She sighs again. “Then what do you want?”
“Lasagna,” I say flatly.
Lisa laughs. “I guess you’re in the right place.”
I turn to her, my face stoic as I try to hide the fear and doubt. “Am I crazy if I go in there?”
“No, Brynn. You’re not crazy. Confused, maybe, but not crazy.”
“That’s the understatement of the year.” I blow a piece of stray hair from my face.
Lisa puts the car in park. “Can I ask you something? And I want an honest answer. None of your variable weighing nonsense, got it?”
I nod.
“Do you have feelings for Sam? Like, honest to goodness feelings in here.” She taps my heart.
I let my head fall back to gaze at the roof of the car. That’s such a loaded question. I mean, with the way things started between us, I’d have to say yes. But when you factor in all the lies, it gets muddy. Then, after sleeping with him for months and coming to genuinely like him as a person, I suppose I’d go with?
“Brynn!” Lisa’s voice reverberates off the car windows, and I snap my head over. “I said no overthinking.”
“It’s not an easy answer.”
“Well, I don’t want to sway your answer in any way, but I want you to know that I’ve always liked Sam.”
I scrunch my eyebrows. “Really? Always? What about all the times you called him a prick?”
“I was validating my friend who was hurting.” She raises her nose in the air before giving me the side-eye and laughing. “But seriously, I do like him.”
A warmth builds within me, but dissipates as I remember what Sam said about her confronting him at Coyote Canyon. “Hey, why didn’t you ever tell me about you seeing him at the bar that night I ran into Connor? Sam said you really chewed him out.”
“Oh, that.” Lisa makes a face, a guilt-stricken expression like she’s been caught. “Well, you didn’t ever ask, and you seemed so much better after that, I didn’t see the point.”
“What did he say to you?”
Lisa grimaces, her eyes pleading with me to let it go.
“I want to know,” I say sternly.
“Okay, fine.” She sighs. “I laid into him pretty hard, telling him about how hurt you were and what an asshole he was. I didn’t tell him why. I said you were upset and he needed to leave you alone.”
“So, how did he convince you otherwise?”
“Oh, Brynn. He had the best answer.” A wry smile crosses her lips. “He said he needed to know how he fucked up, and would spend as long as it took to fix it because he couldn’t stay away from you even if his life depended on it.”
My eyelids peel back, my heart stuttering “What?” That can’t be right. Or at the very least, it can’t mean what Lisa thinks it means. I’m sure it’s nothing more than a physical pull.
“Mhm.” Lisa nods. “Now, I’m not a hundred-percent sure, but I’d say that boy has it bad for you.”
I scoff, waving her off. “That’s where you’re mistaken. He friend-zoned me, remember?”
“I bet you’re wrong,” she says melodically.
I shift in my seat, folding my arms.
“And all this back-and-forth with him, the hating and not hating, the fuck-buddy thing, it makes me think you’ve got it just as bad.”
My toes tap the floorboard as I avoid eye contact with Lisa.
“I’ve never seen you happier than when you’ve been with Sam. I mean, sure, you two went through a rough patch for a bit, but I’ve seen so much more of the real Brynn since Sam’s come around. Especially after you started sleeping together.”
I let out an airy chuckle and turn my appreciative gaze on her. “I have felt more like me lately.”
“See? I bet Sam has had a lot to do with that.” She pats my leg. “And I know you think he’s just a good lay, but I think you’d be doing yourself a disservice by shutting the door on him completely.”
I sigh. “He locked it, though. How am I supposed to open it now?”
“If you go into this dinner with a fresh outlook, he might turn the key. Things between you and Sam have gone from great, to bad, to terrible, and back again. You’re in a good spot with him, don’t let that go to waste.”
Sucking in a huge breath, I nod.
“Now, get in there and have fun, but call me if you need rescuing.”
“Thanks, I will.” I hug her before exiting the car to take the hardest steps of my life.
As I near the entrance, the door opens, and Sam waltzes outside to hold it for me. I take a second to drink him in. His maroon button-down shirt and black slacks make him such a different version of himself. He’s sleek, sophisticated, and not like the usual laid-back, casual Sam I know. It’s enticing, to say the least.
“After you,” he says, bowing slightly.
I roll my eyes, but smile. “Thank you, sir.”
Once I cross the threshold, I’m reminded of why I love this little restaurant. The entryway is lit with white Christmas lights dangling from the ceiling, and their reflections in the shiny floor tile makes it seem like I’m walking on stars. There’s always soft music playing. Mostly instrumental Italian music, but a few crooners like Dean Martin work their way in too. The delectable aromas filling the air complete the entire effect. It’s like being transported across the sea within a few seconds.
“You look nice,” Sam whispers next to my ear as he slides off my coat.
I shudder at his warm breath on my neck. As I turn to thank him for the compliment, I find him raking over my length only to pause on the scooped neckline of my dress. My heart races.
I tug at the slinky, emerald-colored fabric. “Thanks.” Running my hand over my capped sleeve, I inwardly shrink. “We didn’t talk about dinner attire, so I’m glad you and I are on the same page.” I float my hand up and down, motioning to him. “You clean up nicely.”
He leans in to whisper, “I’d say you have me beat.” When he pulls away, he finally looks me in the eyes, and I can see his smoldering.
I swallow. “I’ll take that victory,” I say as confidently as I can before turning to the host. “Hi, table for two?”
The host grabs a couple of menus and leads us toward the back of the small restaurant. As we walk, I try to figure out what I want from this night. Do I want to prove Lisa right or wrong? If she’s wrong, and all Sam wants is to be friends, then I’m good. He’s already given us that label, so I’ll just have to learn to move on.
But if she’s right, then what?
“Here you are,” the host says as he seats us. He then explains the specials and ensures us our server will be right over. When he leaves, it’s just me, Sam, and the awkward silence as he stares at me.
I pick at my nails under the table so I don’t squirm under his gaze. “So, how was your other class today?”
“Fine. Sort of a throw-away class, though. I really could have skipped it.”
“Why didn’t you?”
He shrugs. “I needed something to keep me occupied until I got here.”
I narrow my eyes. Was he anticipating this dinner? I’ll never admit that I was, but if he was too, then maybe we do have a chance together. I don’t know how to be certain, though.
“Hello, you two,” our server says as she sets two water glasses down. “Have you perused the menus? Or do you need a minute?”
I give Sam a pointed look. “I know what I want.”
“Of course you do.” He licks his lips and picks up his menu. “Go ahead, I’ll find something quick.”
“Sam, I can wait?”
“No, you go ahead,” he orders. “I’ll find something.”
Well, that wasn’t gentle. Feeling defeated, I turn to the server. “I’ll have the lasagna, please.”
“Sure thing. Do you want that with marinara or Bolognese?”
“Marinara, please.”
She writes it down, then looks at Sam. “And for you, sir?”
“The pesto chicken, please.” He hands her the menu. “And can we order a bottle of wine?”
My eyebrows shoot up. “A whole bottle?”
“Why not? Professor St. James set us up.”
“Our wine list is right there.” The server points to a leather-bound menu on the table. “I’ll go put your orders in while you decide.”
Sam”s eyes flick to the wine list, so I grab it. “What kind do you like?” I ask.
“Doesn’t matter to me. Whatever you want.”
I give him an apathetic stare before returning to peruse the menu. At the bottom of the list, I find an interesting caption. “It says here Thursday is two for one. If we buy any bottle at regular price, we get a bottle of the house wine for free.” I lift my excited gaze to Sam’s.
“What’s the house wine?”
“Chianti.”
“So let’s get a white wine to have with dinner. That way, we’re getting a little of both.”
I nod. “Good idea.”
After ordering our wine, the server delivers it rather quickly, and Sam and I raise our glasses in a toast.
“Here’s to our success as study group tutors,” Sam says. “Without us, many of our classmates would’ve changed majors already.”
I chuckle. “Cheers, then.” Clinking our glasses together, I take my first sip of a crisp and refreshing Chardonnay. “Mmm. This is good.”
“It is,” Sam says before tipping his glass up to finish off his pour.
“Whoa, slow down. We’ve got a whole dinner to get through.”
“Yeah, and another entire bottle of wine.” An excited grin takes over his face. “Don’t worry, I took an Uber here.”
I shake my head. “Okay, whatever you say.” There’s no way I’m drinking two bottles of wine in one dinner.
“So, Brynn,” Sam says as he pours himself another glass. “How have you been?”
The nonchalance of his question catches me off guard. “Um, fine.” The lie tastes bad on my tongue, but I don’t want to get into all the angst I went through in the past week. “You?”
“All right, I suppose.” He lifts his glass to the smirk on his lips. “Hard to tell when I don’t see my nemesis all week.”
A blush rises in my cheeks, so I pick up my glass. “Why would that make a difference?”
“Well, without you to argue with, I can’t tell whether or not I’ve lost my snark.”
I laugh, nearly spitting out my wine. “I’m sure your snark is intact.”
“How can you tell?”
“Hmmm. We need something to argue about.” I purse my lips and fold my arms. This is the perfect test. I’ll show Lisa that Sam and I would never work as a couple, because we can’t ever agree on anything. I just have to pick the right topics. “We’ve already established that you’re wrong about DC being better than Marvel, so…”
Sam hangs his head as his shoulders bob with laughter.
“Ah, I’ve got it. How do you feel about pineapple on pizza?”
His face scrunches with playful curiosity as he shakes his head. “I’m going to go with no way. Fruit doesn’t have any place on my pizza. What do you say?”
Well, that backfired. “The same,” I say quietly.
“Give me another.”
I take a long draw of my wine as I think. “Do you read?”
“Are you asking if I like to read?”
I nod.
“Yeah, actually, I do.”
“Okay, physical book or e-book?”
A sly grin spreads across his face. “That’s actually a harder question. E-books are nice in terms of convenience, but nothing can ever replace the way a physical book feels in your hands, you know? The sound of the pages when you turn them, the smell…”
My mouth falls open as I listen to him. His words combined with the whimsy in his eyes make this moment surreal. He’s describing exactly how I feel about reading. I need more wine.
“It’s kind of magical,” he says with a shrug.
The goosebumps rising on my skin dissipate when the server brings our food.
“Here you go. Bon appetit,” she says.
I tilt my glass up and finish the last of my wine, a warmth spreading through me. When I lower my head, I find Sam staring. “What?” I ask.
Shaking his head, he says nothing as he refills my glass. He then empties the bottle into his own glass. “Should we go ahead and drink the free one, too?”
“Sure, wine not?” I instantly cringe as the words leave my mouth. “Sorry, that was terrible.”
He chuckles. “I wouldn’t say terrible, but it wasn’t grape.”
His pun eases the pain of my own. “Thanks.”
“Let’s eat,” Sam says, holding up his fork.
We dig in and, as usual, the food is delicious. Both of us are lost in flavor heaven, not saying a word as we take bite after bite of Italian bliss. I know Sam feels the way I do, because I hear his soft groans of delight.
After a few minutes, he wipes his mouth with his napkin, and picks up his glass. “This is fucking great.”
I shake my head. “Eloquent way to put it.”
“Well, what would you say, then?”
“Probably something like ‘this is delicious.’” I give him a pointed look. “Something with less ‘fucks’ in it.”
Sam laughs. “So, you don’t give a fuck?”
“Only when it counts,” I say, and lift my wineglass to my lips.
He stares at me for a moment before clearing his throat. “Okay, give me another debate topic.”
“What?”
“We never found anything to argue about, remember? I’m still wondering about my snark.”
“All right, let me think.” While I do, I sip my wine. I need something that will undoubtedly end in an argument. Something with a wide variety of answers so we couldn’t possibly agree. As I reach my decision, I finish off my glass and set it on the table. “Okay, favorite Disney movie.”
“Ooh, that’s a good one.” Sam crinkles his forehead as he pops open our bottle of Chianti and fills my glass. “Are we talking original animation, or Pixar?”
“Either or.”
He thinks for a good while, finishing his Chardonnay with a deep sigh. “You’re going to laugh.”
“I promise I won’t,” I say, making an “X” over my heart.
“The Princess and the Frog.”
My breath catches in my throat. Did I hear him right? All my readied arguments fall to the floor in pieces, as I stare at my recent enemy who just claimed my favorite Disney movie as his own.
“Before you say anything, let me make my points.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I watched it a lot with my little sister. She loved it from the first time she saw it, so it was always on whenever she was home. I’ve seen it so many times, I know all the songs by heart.”
I bite down on my lower lip, unsure of whether I want him to continue or not. So, I grab my wineglass and let the bold Chianti do its magic on my nerves.
“The more I watched it, though, the more I came to really love the story.” Sam watches his fork as he twirls it in his side of spaghetti. “I mean, Tiana and Naveen didn’t start off on good terms. They were two opposites who came from different worlds so at the end, you knew they really were in love because they had seen each other’s truest sides. They had to work for it, you know?”
When he lifts his gaze from his food, his vulnerability astounds me. There were no lies in what he said. It was the honest truth, and a beautiful way to view my favorite movie.
He groans, leaning back in his chair and picking up his wine. “Go ahead, tear me to shreds with your argument.”
I feign a frustrated sigh. “I’d love to, but I can’t.”
“What? Why?”
“Because you’ve given me another reason to love my favorite Disney movie.”
A smile slowly spreads across his lips, like my words sink in, and his face lights up. “Yeah?”
God, I love that look of his. “I don’t know that I ever dissected it like you, but there’s something about that movie I’ve always loved.”
Without taking his eyes off me, Sam tilts his glass to mine, making the tiniest clinking sound. “Well, then cheers.”
“To what, this time?”
“To me not needing my snark, anymore.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks, and this time, I know it’s not from the wine.
We finish our dinner, and the second bottle of wine with Sam asking for the check shortly thereafter. Our gift card more than covers our bill, so we both chip in a good amount for a tip. On our way to the door, Sam hands me the gift card.
“What’s this for?” I ask.
He shrugs. “There’s, like, twelve bucks left on it. That’s enough to pay for you and Lisa to come have a girls’ dessert night, or something. Just don’t order the coffee cake.”
“Why not?”
“Because it was labeled as cinnamon coffee cake.”
A lightness rises in my chest that he made sure to check the ingredients. “Thanks. That’s sweet of you.” I give him a sideways glance.
He shakes his head. “Do you always speak in puns when you’re drunk?”
“Who said I’m drunk?” I ask, but as I turn to face him, I trip over my heels.
Sam catches me by the elbow, righting me and throwing his other hand around my waist to steady me. “Whoa, easy killer.”
When I get my bearings, I look into those deep brown eyes that have captivated me from day one. The twinkling lights reflect in his irises, making them sparkle. Behind the sparkle though, is an intensity. It’s one I’ve seen before, and one I quite enjoy. It’s passionate, and hot, and makes me squeeze my thighs together.
To Hell with just being friends.
I lick my lips. “Take me home, Sam.”
He lets out a shaky breath. “Sure thing. I can have the Uber drop you off first, and?”
“No, Sam,” I say confidently, running my hand over his shoulder. “Take me to your home.”