Okay… so maybe those words are crossing a line.
By like a mile.
Sam winces before muttering, “Jesus Christ, Vi! You saying that is almost as bad as hearing them go at it.”
Just as those words leave his lips, my grandmother’s delighted voice fills the air as she breezes through the hallway leading from the kitchen to the large foyer we’re still idling in. “Violet and Sam, you’re here!”
Sam’s straightens to his full height as I give her a cheerful smile. “Hi, gran!”
Looking pleased to see the pair of us, she envelopes my body in her thin but strong arms before giving me a little squeeze. I can’t help but close my eyes, allowing my body to sink into her embrace.
This feeling right here…
It’s exactly what home feels like. After everything happened with my parents, gran was always there with a warm hug and kind words of comfort. It was together we got through our shared grief.
Finally pulling away, I glance around the spacious foyer and living room that is to the left of us. It’s filled with delicate furniture and priceless antiques that have been collected over a lifetime. Most mornings you can find my grandfather sitting in there, enjoying a cup of coffee while perusing the newspaper. Even though he’s quite adept at tooling around on the internet, he prefers reading physical paper copies. He likes the feel of it in his hands. One still gets delivered to the house every single morning around six. When I don’t immediately see him sitting in there, a little niggle of worry blooms in the pit of my belly. “Where’s gramps?”
Despite her lips tipping up at the corners, I still catch the concern that flickers in her soft hazel eyes before disappearing. “Oh, he’s just upstairs resting a bit.” Before I can fire off any more questions, she turns toward Sam, enveloping him in her arms. And just like that, a smile tugs at the edges of my lips as I watch huge hulking Sam get wrapped up in my grandmother’s delicate embrace.
Something unexpectedly warm fills my heart as I continue watching the pair of them. Sam has known my grandparents his entire life. He thinks of them as his very own. He’d probably still stop by and check in on them even if I weren’t in the picture.
I can’t help but love him for that. Not all twenty-two year old college dudes would give a rat’s ass about the wellbeing of their elderly neighbors. But Sam does. In high school, he would cut their lawn in the summer, rake their leaves in the autumn, and shovel snow from their walkway after each winter storm.
Pulling away, my grandmother loops her arm through Sam’s muscular one before turning back towards me. “I’m so glad you two were able to find some time to stop by. The toilet in the upstairs bathroom is leaking and Edward just hasn’t felt up to taking a look at it.” She beams another smile Sam’s way.
My brows slide together at the reminder. I don’t like thinking about anything being seriously wrong with either one of them. As much as I hate to admit it, they’ve both slowed down over the years. Even though I knew it was bound to happen, it’s still hard to accept.
And this is a big rambling hundred year old home in need of constant repairs, upkeep, and maintenance. Sometimes I worry that it’s too much for them to handle on their own. My grandfather is seventy-five and my grandmother is closing in on seventy-two. But I just can’t see them sitting around, languishing in a senior citizen home either. Unfortunately I know it’s an issue that will have to be dealt with in the not so distant future.
“Is gramps okay?” I hate the way my heart skitters as I give voice to my concerns. Over the past couple of years, he’s suffered from a few heart issues. I honestly don’t know what my grandmother or I would do without him. It’s been the three of us for so long now. The thought of him not being around has my belly tightening into a thick knot of apprehension.
A small forced smile curves her lips as she shakes her head. “Just feeling a bit under the weather. Nothing to be concerned about.” She gives Sam’s bulging forearm a little pat. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered you with this.”
“It’s no problem, Mrs. Winterfield. I don’t mind helping out.”
Again she shoots him a grateful smile before reaching up to pat his cheek. “I know that, Samuel. You’re such a dear boy. You always have been.” Her eyes impale mine before she adds somewhat coyly, “One of these days you’re going to make some woman very happy.”
Right.
Forget what I said about coy. There’s absolutely nothing sly about her words or the calculating look she’s aiming in my direction. I almost roll my eyes because what she really means to say without actually saying it in so many words is that I should nab Sam before some other lucky lady snaps him up.
Have I mentioned that my grandmother fancies herself a matchmaker and is constantly trying to nudge me in Sam’s direction? It used to annoy the hell out of me when I was in high school, but it doesn’t really bother me anymore. It’s more of a running joke between the three of us.
Although, as my eyes once again fall on Sam, I think she just might be right about that. He probably will make some woman very happy. A tiny little prick of displeasure slides through me at the notion before I quickly shrug it away.
Sam’s bright blue eyes stay locked on mine. Barely can he contain the smile that is simmering around the edges of his lips as he says, “Oh, I don’t know about that, Mrs. Winterfield. Can’t seem to find a woman willing to put up with me.”
Rather disbelievingly she squeezes his arm again. I’m starting to think she might be enjoying herself a little too much over there. Which I can’t exactly blame her for. Sam has muscles on top of more muscles. His whole body is solid and defined. Even his forearms. “Well, I have a hard time believing that! You’re such a handsome boy and smart, too.”
Again she eyes me as if I’m too stupid to realize what I’m missing out on. Unconsciously my gaze slides back to Sam before settling on those smirking lips of his. That kiss, the one I keep insisting was completely insignificant, forces its way back into the forefront of my thoughts.
A little shiver skitters its way down my spine as I remember what it felt like to have his warm lips sliding over mine…
My entire body stiffens as that image plays back in slow-mo.
What the hell am I doing?
Yanking my eyes from his, I shove that thought away before clearing my throat uncomfortably. “I guess Sam should probably get to it, huh?”
A satisfied smile settles over my grandmother’s lips before she adds, “The tools should already be up there, dear.”
“Alright then, I’ll go up and take a look at what’s going on. Hopefully it’ll be an easy fix.” Brows drawn together, his eyes slowly shift between the pair of us as if just realizing that he’s been left out of some private joke. “After that, I need to stop and say hello to my parents.”
We both nod before Sam’s big body disappears up the curving staircase. We hear his heavy footfalls above us until he makes his way to the bathroom. Once he’s gone, my grandmother turns to me with a contented smile.
“It’s so hard to believe that Sam is still single.” And just in case I hadn’t already gotten the hint, she adds, “A good looking boy like that. So handsome and strapping.”
I can’t help the gurgle of laughter that escapes as I repeat, “Strapping?”
Her narrow face crinkles with humor. “Back in my day, we used the word strapping to describe muscular men.”
Well, I certainly can’t disagree with her assessment on that one. Sam is most definitely… strapping.
Lowering her voice, she continues with our previous conversation, “It’s just so surprising that you two have never gotten together. He’s the kind of man who would treat a woman right.”
I roll my eyes.
Here we go again…
Cue the Sam is the best guy in the whole wide world spiel.
And hey, it’s not like I’m disagreeing with her. But there are only so many times I can hear it.
“Gran…” I practically groan.
I’ve lost count exactly how many times we’ve had this particular conversation. I think it must be somewhere around a million. Needless to say, my grandmother adores Sam Harper. Actually, adores probably isn’t a strong enough word. And I can’t deny that she’s probably right in her prediction. Sam would treat any woman he was with like a princess. He’s just so sweet and caring. There’s absolutely nothing douchy about the guy. Which admittedly is a rare find on any college campus these days.
Knocking me out of my sudden reverie, she waves a hand in front of my face. “Oh, don’t deny an old woman her pleasure. One of these days you’re going to open your eyes and see what’s been sitting right in front of you the entire time.” Not waiting for a reply, which is good because I don’t exactly have one, she hooks her arm through mine before patting my hand affectionately. “You mark my words, Violet, some girl is going to snag his interest one of these days and will thank her lucky stars that she did.”
Ignoring everything she just said, I snort with all the derision I can muster before muttering under my breath, “Old woman, my ass.”
Not bothering to chastise me for my language, she simply chuckles. “Let’s go make some lunch for when that strapping young man of yours is finished fixing the toilet.”
I give her a big dramatic sigh before following her into the warm sunny kitchen.
Thirty minutes later, the four of us are sitting around my grandparent’s small round table enjoying the BLT’s she just whipped up because they’re Sam’s absolute favorite. Extra mayo, heavy on the lettuce, one thick slice of tomato, and bread lightly toasted- just the way he likes it. He must have really worked up an appetite fixing that leaky pipe, because Sam has already wolfed down two sandwiches and is starting to devour a third. And we just sat down not more than ten minutes ago. Naturally my grandmother continues fussing over him the entire time.
Turning my attention to my grandfather, I can’t help but notice that he looks tired. Maybe even a little pale. And nowhere near as animated as he usually is. Seeing him like this has concern once again flaring to life within me. “How are you feeling, gramps?”
His face creases with soft wrinkles as he flashes me a smile. “Just trying to shake this bug I’ve picked up. Other than that, right as rain.” He takes a small bite of his his sandwich before chewing it rather methodically. When he’s finally finished, he asks, “And how’s my favorite girl doing? Classes going well?”
I tear off a hunk of sandwich before popping it into my mouth and nodding. “Everything’s fine. Classes are good.”
“Have you thought about submitting applications at any other law schools?”
My grandfather was a district attorney for about twenty years and then a circuit court judge for another fifteen. I think he’s proud that I’ve decided to follow in his footsteps just as my father had before me.
Because I know exactly the kind of response my answer will elicit, I say somewhat offhandedly, “No, I think three schools are enough.” I’m leaning towards Barnett for obvious reasons.
In all fairness, Barnett really does have a top notch law program. I know he’d like me to look further away than I have, but the idea of being more than a two hour drive from them is tough for me to consider.
Just as expected, he levels me with a look as if he knows exactly why I’m set on continuing my education at Barnett. “You don’t need to stick around here, Violet. Your grandmother and I are perfectly capable of taking care of ourselves. We want you to branch out. Experience life somewhere else. Maybe look at UCLA, or Berkeley, or even Columbia in New York. This is a wonderful chance for you to live somewhere you’ve always dreamed of. Don’t squander an opportunity like this by not considering all the possibilities.” His eyes skewer mine. “You’ll only regret it in the end.”
You know what I’ll end up regretting?
Not being there for them when they need me. Not spending time with them when I could because I know all too well just how short life can be. So… no, it’s highly doubtful I’ll regret not moving further away at this point. I have my entire life for that. And honestly, I like living here. This is my home. And my grandparents are all the family I have left.
Glancing down at the half eaten sandwich on my plate, I give a tiny little shrug in response. This certainly isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation. And, because my grandfather is stubborn and only wants what’s best for me, it won’t be the last either. A moment later, Sam slips his hand around mine before giving it a gentle squeeze in silent support.
My eyes flicker towards him. He gives me a small smile. That’s the thing about Sam, he totally gets me. He understands why I make the choices that I do and he doesn’t try to change them. He simply accepts and supports me.
“Barnett’s a good school, gramps,” I finally say. “Why do I need to live somewhere else when I’m perfectly happy here?”
Because my grandfather was a cagey lawyer in his day, he knows exactly when to pick his battles. And clearly this is one he’s not going to win. Turning his attention to Sam, he asks, “And what about you, Samuel? What schools did you end up applying to? I imagine you’ve set your sights on expanding your horizons a little broader than my granddaughter over here has.”
The corners of my lips curl upwards as my grandfather gives me a little wink.
Shoving the last bit of BLT into his mouth, Sam swallows it down before taking a huge guzzle of water. “I threw in an application at Barnett as well but I’m also considering Cornell and Columbia.”
Looking thoughtful, my grandfather nods his head. “All excellent schools. I would expect nothing less from you.”
“I’m just trying to decide if it’s worth retaking the LSAT.”
“Oh, please.” I can’t help but roll my eyes at that bit of nonsense because Sam scored a freaking one seventy-two on his LSAT. The first time taking it too. The guy is so damn smart, it’s almost sickening. And yeah, I couldn’t be more proud of him. Sam was the valedictorian of our high school graduating class and going into senior year at Barnett, he has a near perfect grade point average.
While academics have always come easily for Sam, that hasn’t been the case for me. I have to keep myself focused and organized. I have to bite off little chucks and continually be working towards my goals instead of cramming or waiting until the last minute. And I definitely can’t have Sam sitting next to me in every single class, even though that’s exactly how we could arrange our schedules, or I’d end up flunking out. The guy barely has to pay attention in class. Hell, he probably doesn’t even need to attend class, but he always does. He never misses. He may not have to work hard but he still does.
Sam smirks as his deep blue eyes lock on mine. “What?”
“You scored a one seventy-two on your LSAT. I would be throwing a party if I scored even close to that.” Yeah, I scored a one sixty. Not terrible, but not great by any means. Which just about sums up my academic career. A little better than middle of the road. “I’m the one who should be retaking the LSAT, not you. I don’t even know why you’re applying at Barnett. You could probably get into Harvard Law if you wanted.” I’m not kidding about that either. Even though I should probably retake the LSAT, I don’t really want to. That test was beyond brutal. I thought my brain was literally going to leak right out of my ears with all the hours Sam and I spent hunkered down studying at the library.
Shrugging his massive shoulders, he shifts self-consciously in his seat. He looks uncomfortable by the sudden direction of our conversation. Sam isn’t one to brag about himself, his family, or his achievements. Like everything else in his life, he keeps it tightly under wraps.
And I get it.
There’s a lot of pressure on Sam to walk the straight and narrow. To achieve great things. To follow in his father’s footsteps. Sam’s dad is a state senator, so it’s important for him to keep a low profile, to not do anything that’s going to garner bad press. He doesn’t go to parties or bars and get shitfaced or out of control. Nor does does
he sleep around so that his sexcapades end up splashed across those stupid websites that are solely dedicated to the Barnett football players.
Maybe some twenty-two year olds would chafe and feel resentful about that kind of pressure heaped upon them at such a young age. The pressure to conduct himself like he’s in his thirties rather than early twenties. But Sam handles it well.
Most people at Barnett, even those who know him well, don’t realize that he’s related to Senator Derek Harper. And that’s exactly the way Sam likes it.
“We’ll see what happens. I haven’t decided where I want to go just yet. My dad attended Columbia.” He flashes a brief smile. “He’s hoping I’ll end up there.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” my grandfather says, “as long as that’s where you want to be.”
His words are a sudden reminder as to the inevitable changes next year will bring. I can’t help but think about just how different everything will be when Sam heads off in one direction and I go in another. We’ve been entangled in each other’s lives for so long now. Not a single day goes by that I don’t see or talk to him.
The thought of Sam being somewhere else, living a life without me, sends a little pang of sadness sliding its way through me. We’ve been at each other’s side for the last eight years. But I suppose I’ll have to get used to it, because I can’t see Sam sticking around here for another three years.
Something in his eyes shifts as they hold mine. It’s like he knows exactly what’s churning inside my head. Shaking off the sudden melancholy, I tug the corners of my lips up into a brief smile before finishing the chips on my plate.
“Well, I should probably head over and say hi to my parents.” With that, Sam makes his way to his feet. For someone so big, he’s quite agile. “Thank you for lunch, Mrs. Winterfield.”
“I should be the one thanking you for coming all the way over here on a Sunday afternoon to fix that toilet. I’m sure you have better things to do with your time.”
Sam’s smile softens before he leans down, planting a gentle kiss on my grandmother’s cheek. “It’s no problem. I can stop by anytime.”
Friend Zoned (Barnett Bulldogs #2) Page 4