24. Sam
SAM
Hours later, we finally leave her apartment, but not before Adam has groceries delivered and makes her his famous garlic butter pasta.
She enjoyed it so much that she moaned, and I had to grip the seat to keep from pouncing on her again.
Not now, I tell myself. She has to rest now. I'll get the chance with her later.
That helps some of my urgency die down.
When we walk out of her home, Jake immediately turns to Adam and says, "Did I dream up that entire conversation, or did you just suggest something totally wild back there?"
Adam doesn't answer, though he has a considering look on his face.
I don't blame Jake for his confusion. I, too, was surprised that Adam made the suggestion, because this whole time, he's been the one advising us to pump the brakes on everything.
And now he wants us to date her, individually, and have her choose who she wants.
Although when I think about it, it's not a bad idea at all. Sure, we've never actually dated the same woman before, and outside of sex, I didn't really think we had similar tastes.
But we all feel something for her, and rather than fighting each other or giving up entirely on the possibility of being with her, it's better that she dates all of us and picks who she likes. The power is in her hands now.
I just have to make sure that I'm the best possible option.
What if she doesn't want you? What if you try your best and she still chooses Jake or Adam? Are you going to be able to live with it, seeing her with them for the rest of your life?
I immediately shove that thought out of my head.
I'm not even going to consider the possibility that she doesn't want to be with me.
Quitting, especially this early, isn't going to get me shit.
The world is too fucking complicated sometimes, but it's very simple to me.
I want her, and I'll do whatever I can to be with her. That's it.
"It's better this way," Adam says. "Than having the two of you at each other's throats."
"The two of us? Oh, so now it's just a me and Sam thing? Don't think I didn't notice how gone over her you looked when you were balls deep inside of her."
"Jesus, Jake."
"Oh yeah, I watched. I also saw the way you looked at her when she was lying on your chest. Now you're going to pretend to be unaffected?
You're going to pretend to be so far above it all?
Then why don't you drop out of the running right now?
Why did you include yourself in our little dating schedule? "
He doesn't respond, and while his face was impassive, I know he's struggling to come up with an explanation.
I guess I understand. He certainly didn’t go into this expecting to feel something for her. I mean, neither did I. I wouldn't have thought this sharing thing would be feasible either if I hadn't felt what I felt when I caught her and Jake together.
When I saw Jake’s car parked in the driveway, I suspected there were probably some shenanigans happening in there. Knowing Jake, he won’t be able to keep himself from trying to start something with her. I just didn't think they would be that far along by the time I arrived.
I stood in the doorway and watched it, my blood pounding in my ears, cock so hard that I could barely hear what Adam was saying. I completely relate to what Jake said about how arousing watching her was.
The curves of her body, the way it moves in the throes of passion, the way it tenses in anticipation before finally opening up to demand more.
Jake was more forceful with her than I've seen him with anyone else.
And she loved it. I could tell by how she writhed against his body, demanding more while he struggled to hold back and not give her everything he had all at once.
It was nothing short of a miracle that I managed to last as long as I did and not blow my load watching them.
The sight turned me on more than almost anything ever had. Just watching them.
I could look at that for my entire life.
When Adam finally got my attention, I could tell that he thought I would be jealous. He thought I would be raging to put a stop to this, thought that I would be heartbroken.
But I wasn’t jealous, nor was I angry. I was hard. I wanted to bury myself inside her so deep no one would be able to tell where she ends and I begin.
I was envious, but not in the way that meant I wanted to kick Jake's ass or storm out of there.
No, I wanted it to be who she was straining for, me, whom she begged.
But I also loved watching what she did to him and what he did to her.
Her enjoyment became mine, my desire for her rising on the same wavelength as her rise to the peak.
I wanted to see her come with him, under him. I was desperate to see them both come undone.
Maybe it’s because it’s Jake. After all, I doubt I would be as comfortable with anyone else except for Adam doing it. Jake’s been my best friend since high school, and she’s the woman that I can feel myself falling for. Somehow it works.
"Sam? Are you paying attention to us or have you zoned us out?"
I don't answer, sauntering down the staircase, toward my car. I don't want to waste the memories or pollute them by talking right now. I want to keep thinking about it on my drive and replay it on a loop when I get home.
I want to carve her.
But of course, it's not that easy.
Jake and Adam follow me home, even beating me there. While I'm getting out of my truck, they stand at my door leaning against the stair railing,
"What are you doing here?" I ask.
"We need to talk," Adam says. "And since you refused to listen to us back there, we picked somewhere you can't escape as easily from."
He already has my spare key in hand and opens the door. They walk in now, analyzing the new sculptures on my dresser and everything else.
“Love what you’ve done with the place,” Jake says, and I can tell he’s being sarcastic. He likes my carving, but like Adam, he thinks I can get too obsessive sometimes.
I turn to Adam, who says, “I just want us to be clear about the ground rules. I don’t want this to ruin our friendship.”
"Our?" I raise my eyebrow at him. “So you're still going to throw your hat in the ring? When did you decide our pursuing her wasn't a bad idea?"
Adam blushes as Jake snorts. “Since three seconds after she took his cock, probably."
I smirk as Adam’s blush intensifies.
“I never said I didn’t want her too,” he says. “I just know that wanting her comes with certain consequences I’m not sure we’re willing to pay.”
“Right. That’s not what you said yesterday, though.”
“Yeah, yesterday was entirely different.”
"But you said–"
“Forget what I said,” he says. “I know you both like her. I do too, but we have to be smart about this. No intruding on each other’s time and no dirty tricks. We try as much as possible to be fair to each other.”
“We heard you the first time, Grandpa. You don't have to repeat the rules to me. You know you’re not that much older than we are, though you like to act like it, and we understand what's at stake, too."
“Good.” Adam then shakes his head and walks around.
“Jesus. When was the last time you aired this place out? And I bet your room is a fucking mess too.” Adam starts going around, pulling up all the curtains, and doing his fatherly duties.
He then goes upstairs to my bedroom, leaving me with Jake standing in the living room.
Jake tucks his hand into his pocket and gives me an arched look. “So are you going to tell me what this silent treatment is about yet?”
I remain silent.
“Do you know how hurtful it is that you’re hiding something major from your best friends?" He says, and there’s a spark of hurt in his eyes that I look away from.
I hate that I'm hurting him, but I know it would hurt him more if I told him everything. I'd rather suffer through it alone.
Jake swears. "We’ve been friends since high school, you fucker. You know everything about me.”
“That’s because you’re an oversharer.”
His eyes spark again. “You know what? Fuck you. I don’t even know why I bother.
An apology immediately jumps to my lips, a bid for understanding, but I don’t utter it.
This is probably for the better. I’ve been trying to push him away for some time, so I don't drag him into the catastrophe that is my family life. I don’t want him to worry about me anymore.
I’m so sick of him worrying about me and me dragging down his mood all the time that I think I would rather he hate me at this point, as hurtful as that is. It would be better for him.
But how’s that going to work when we’re dating the same woman? How am I going to push him away when she's there?
I have no fucking clue.
The next morning, I wake up bright and early for my date with her. I do everything, clean my house, make sure my clothes are ironed, and even go over the itinerary for the day. I’m a huge planner when I want to be, specifically with things that are this important.
Even worse than Adam.
Except for the moments when I’m drawn by my muse and burdened with the need to create, I like to plan my days down to their last decimal.
This time, it's difficult.
There's so much I want to do with her, so much I want to know about her, but I have to take it slowly. I don't want to scare her.
The sun shines a little brighter today as I head to her place. There are nervous butterflies in my belly, but I look forward to seeing her gain.
When I arrive and knock on the door with a big bouquet of pink and yellow flowers. Yellow for our friendship, but pink, hoping it turns into more.
When she opens the door, the glow in her face is all worth it.
"Flowers," she says. 'They're beautiful, thank you. And the colors are..." I see in her face that she understands the meaning behind them. "I don't think I've ever gotten flowers before."
"You haven't?" That ex of hers must be an even bigger tool than I thought.
"Wait, no, I have," she says. "James got me one for prom. He ended up being my date after my then date blew me off."
"Asshole."
"Yeah, he was." She cocks her head. "Did you ever go to your prom?"
I think about it and shake my head.
"Why not?"
"Believe it or not, there wasn't a line of women who wanted to go with me."
"Really? How come? You're so..." Her gaze traces down my body, and I'm suddenly so glad that I spent all that time bulking up in the gym, even though I was convinced at first that it was a total waste of time.
"I didn't always look like this. And my social skills were even worse. But I'll tell you all about it on our date."
"Okay," she beams. "Where are we going?"
"I was thinking of going to Pendergrass."
"Pendergrass–" she gapes. "You mean the most expensive restaurant in the city?"
"Yeah. Their food is surprisingly pretty good."
"It's not about the food being good. How did you get a reservation? And also, isn't that like a couple thousand a table or something?"
"Or something," I say, smiling. "Shall we?"
She finally gets over her shock enough to come with me as we drive over to Pendergrass. While there, her eyes glow as she takes in the gilded decor, especially when we're led to our private table by a private butler.
"Okay," she says. "This is different."
I'm happy to see her reaction. Truth is, I've eaten here before, but I probably would never have done it again if it wasn't for her, if I wasn't trying to impress her. I'm just glad that I'm close to succeeding.
"So," she says a few minutes after we get seated. "Tell me more about the prom thing."
I chuckle. "There really isn't much to tell. I was a strange child, didn't talk till I was seven years old. That stunted me socially pretty much."
Her eyes glow with curiosity and sympathy.
"I didn't really know my parents," I say hesitantly.
"I grew up in foster care, shuffled from one home to another.
I guess part of my selective mutism was about feeling so uncomfortable and disposable.
I thought maybe if I was quiet enough, people would forget I was there, and they wouldn't get rid of me.
I didn't understand then that my silence was part of what creeped out my foster parents. "
Her eyes soften, and she reaches across the table. I take her hand, holding it, allowing me to talk about something I've never spoken about before.
"It worsened when I went to school. I got bullied severely, and whenever I would talk, it always seemed like I said the wrong thing.
So I spent a lot of time by myself, in my head, and decided not to make the effort anymore.
I didn't think anyone cared what I had to say or wanted me around.
At least until I met Jake. He kind of stuck to me like glue for long enough that I figured he wanted to be there.
" And I'm paying him back by ignoring him.
The guilt pricks me, but I remind myself it's for the best.
"I felt the same," she admits.
"Really?"
She nods. "My parents...I don't think they wanted me. My brother, maybe, but not me. I was the 'oops' baby, and my mother only carried me to term because she's catholic and doesn't believe in abortion. But I think she may have resented me for it, just a little."
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay." Her eyes are misty, but she tries to hide it as the butler approaches with the appetizers.
She can't get it in time, so I shift closer on the sectional and pull her into a hug.