3. Jameson, age 17 #2
“Can we go to Mario’s?” she asks as I set her back on her feet and take her hand in mine.
My lips twitch, trying not to laugh at how well I already anticipated this. “I’m taking you to the diner. You need an actual meal with some chicken and veggies, not pizza. We can get Mario’s this weekend.”
I lead her out to my car, mentally tallying how much extra work I’ll owe my dad this week to have the cash, but there’s no way I won’t make sure she gets both meals this week.
“You’re too good to me.” Sam huffs, and I glance down at her, seeing the slight pout on her lips. She knows I’m right about what she needs for food, but I wholly disagree with what else she said.
“I’m not too good to you. You’re important to me. I should know and anticipate everything you need.”
Sam giggles, the sound soft, while I help her into my car first, so she can turn the heat on before I place my bag in the trunk.
After getting in, I drive us into the town of Crimson Bay and pull into the diner's parking lot. It's already starting to overflow with other teens, both from our school and the town’s private academy, All Saints. I park the car and get out, eyeing everyone and everything around me, checking for any hidden danger that could be lurking nearby before opening Sam’s door for her.
She gets out, her hand landing on my chest, and once again her eyes shine up at me.
I wonder if she knows what I’m doing or if she even cares, but with her hand on my chest, I feel like I can take a breath.
My hand covers hers, and I hold it at my side while we walk in.
Finding a spot to sit is easy enough, despite the crowd.
I sit so I can keep my eyes on the doors and on the rowdy tables around us while she eats.
At one point, my gaze knocks with Reign Thorn’s, but he’s more interested in seeing if anyone else is in our booth.
He has a slight obsession with Sam’s friend, Riley, even though they both actually hate each other.
“Are Luca or Braysen joining us?” Sam pulls my attention back to her. A smile forms on my lips at the menu in her hands. She has a habit of looking over everything, deciding between two things, but always ends up getting her usual: a chicken, bacon, ranch wrap.
“Nah, they have plans,” I tell her, keeping my tone calm. Not that it helps any; this girl knows me just as well as I know her. Blue eyes widening with excitement, she leans forward toward me.
“The Landing?”
She whispers it like a secret when, in reality, it’s a wide-known place amongst certain crowds.
The Landing is the dirt track on the outskirts of town where people go to race cars and sometimes bikes.
It's the best kept, yet known secret in the Bay.
I nod silently at her when our waitress comes to take our order, catching the little smile Sam has on her lips.
Once we order, Sam takes a drink of her water before her face turns serious.
“I want to go with you.”
My head tilts. “I didn’t plan for you to be anywhere else, Sammy.”
She nods, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip in a way that makes my chest feel tighter. “Would you tell me if you didn’t want me to go? Like if you just wanted time with the guys or away from me.”
Her questions leave me reeling. I feel sucker punched for a second, trying to grasp what she said. The more the words flash in my head, the angrier I become. “I don’t want time away from you.”
Sam shifts in her seat, and I notice for the first time that she looks sad and unsure of herself.
Her eyes fall to the table, and her fingers tremble slightly.
“I don’t want that either, but I’m just saying if you didn’t want me to go, if you wanted to just be with the guys and stuff, I could go home. ”
My eyes narrow on her. Her voice wavered on the last words, and she won’t look at me now. This goes deeper than just a question on if I want a guys’ night without her. My heart pinches in my chest. “Who said something to you?”
“Jameson—”
“No.” I give my head a little shake. “Who said something?”
Sam huffs and drops her hands back into her lap. “It’s not just someone. And no one says it to me directly. More like it's implied.”
Now I’m really confused, and I don’t like the direction this conversation is going either. “Pretty Girl, I need you to just spell it out for me, okay. Because I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“There’s just a lot of talk sometimes. In the stands and in school.
” Sam takes in a deep breath and blows it out slowly.
I watch the entire time her cheeks puff out and shrink back down.
Her eyes meet mine, and I flinch from the flare of pain in her gaze.
“A lot of people think I’m holding you back.
Well, girls mostly. A lot of them know we’re friends, but they think I’m blocking their chance of being with you. ”
Of all the things that she could have said, I’m not surprised that this topic finally made its way between us.
What does surprise me, though, is how hurt she looks.
Considering Sam is the only girl I allow in my space, and I actively spend all my free time with her, I didn’t think she would question her importance to me.
I’ve heard the same grumblings for years from jersey-chasing girls who are never going to get me.
And I’ve stopped more than a few advances from guys who wanted Sam.
I’m not ashamed of it. She is mine; I’ve just been waiting for her to catch up.
I know I can’t rush Sam. I also know my girl is goal-oriented.
She has plans, literal written down to-do lists, for each year in high school, college and beyond.
I am not going to put my needs above her goals.
Instead, I work in the background, making sure she gets everything she wants while also being the most important person in her life.
This is the first time, though, that she’s brought up other girls saying shit to her.
“I don’t want them,” I grit out the words, hoping she hears the seriousness in my tone.
How could I ever want another girl when I have Sam?
Her eyes drop again, and her cheeks pinken with a blush.
Something in my chest snaps, and it feels like the pieces of the universe are starting to fall into place.
Sam is jealous. She’s worried I would want a shot at some rando, and it’s bothering her. My heart lurches in my chest. Finally.
Before I can say more, the server is back with our food.
Seemingly happy with my answers, Sam spends the rest of the meal chatting about school and the game.
I could listen to her talk for hours. Every once in a while, I grunt in response or agree with what she’s saying, and her smile lights up her whole face.
After we eat, I pay our bill, pushing Sam’s money back when she offers.
She does this every time, and while the gesture is nice, it's unnecessary. Anytime she’s with me, I always pay, and if I wasn’t there, I expect Luca or Braysen to pick up the tab.
With her hand back in mine, I lead her outside to my car, and we head over to the Landing.
Once we cross the line out of the city limits, the area turns to forest, with a one-way road that seems to go on for miles.
There’s a single right-hand turn that’s hidden, unless you know to look for it, and that's the road we take to the racetrack. Cars and trucks line the side of the road and the sound of revving engines and the smell of exhaust pierce the air. There’s a steady strum of excitement in the crowd.
I glance at Sam and find that she’s already looking at me with a mischievous smirk on her lips.
“You really love this, don’t you?” she says more than asks.
My shoulders lift and fall. I don’t know if I love it.
I like it. Racing fills an adrenaline high for me.
I like hockey. I’m good at it, but after high school, I don’t have plans to play again.
Racing is something I can see myself doing long term.
Fixing cars, working with my hands, and feeling the purr of an engine while crossing the finish line is what I crave.
“I like it,” I finally reply before taking her hand in mine over the console. “Bunny said a few of the guys tonight might race dirtier than I’m used to. I want you with Luca and Braysen.”
She nods and squeezes my hand. “Be safe.”
My lips tip up in a smirk. I’m going to win, then I’m going to take Sam home and explain how things are going to be different for us from now on. She’s ready. And I can’t hold it in anymore how much I want all of her. I want to publicly claim her as mine. “Always, Pretty Girl.”
She smiles, shaking her head, and gets out of the car.
I watch through the windshield as she makes her way over to Luca’s side.
He wraps an arm over her shoulders and pulls her between himself and Braysen.
Even though I trust them, I still pull out my phone and fire off a text before driving over to the race line.
KANE: No one touches her.
brAY: Obviously. Sammy is safe with us ;)
KANE: That goes for Luca too.
LUCA: I knew it. I was just getting her over to us.
KANE: Didn’t like it.
brAY: Ok ok. Just race. We got your girl.
LUCA: We’ll protect her with our loves.
LUCA: Shit! I mean lives.
KANE: …