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“Oh, the book. Hands down.” Sam laughs. “I don’t even need to finish to know it’s better.”
I chuckle. “Should’ve guessed. That’s usually the case, regardless of the movie adaptation.”
“How was your day?” Sam bookmarks his page and sets the book on the coffee table. I take advantage of the space and lay my head on his lap. His fingers begin to comb through my hair, making me hum in appreciation.
“Long. And stressful.”
“I’m sorry. Anything I can do to help?”
“You’re already doing it. That feels fantastic.” I sigh. I tell Sam all about the issues with our database and how worried I am that if I can’t find the source of the problem, they’ll fire me. “I know the worry is probably irrational. We found the issue before the database went live. There’s no logical reason he would fire me, but I can’t help it.”
“Has your boss given any indication that your job is contingent on you finding out how it happened?” Sam’s hands have moved from my hair to rubbing my temples.
“No. He honestly seemed relieved to know it was a fuckup on our end instead of the program itself having issues.”
“Then maybe it’s not quite as big of a deal to find the source. I’m not saying you shouldn’t figure it out still, but killing yourself over it may not be necessary.”
Tension begins to drain from my body with his words. How many times have I wished I had a sounding board for my anxiety? When I was with Chase, I always kept my worries to myself. Anytime I tried to vent about them, he made me feel like I was acting crazy. I know most of my anxiety is rooted in illogical reasoning, but that doesn’t stop me from worrying about it.
“Thank you for letting me vent. Most of the time, I can work through my anxiety on my own, but when it’s something this important, rational thinking goes straight out the window.”
“I’m happy to listen anytime you need me.” Sam leans down and presses a gentle kiss against my lips. “Now, what are your thoughts on getting Athena’s Table for dinner? The movie I watched earlier had a scene in Greece, and now I’m craving Greek food.”
“That sounds amazing.”
“Should we invite Nolan as an apology for giving him a show?” The twinkle in Sam’s eyes makes me grin.
“Fuck that. He owes us an apology. He should’ve knocked in the first place.”
Sam drops his head back with a laugh. “Fair enough. Ask him what he wants, and I’ll order it.”
“Oh, fuck you!” Nolan laughs. His grin lights up his face, and for a second, I’m taken back to when he was ten and giggling at his fart.
Sam is laughing so hard tears are running down his cheeks. They’re both sitting on the stools at my breakfast bar while I stand on the other side of the counter watching the two of them laugh. We finished dinner a while ago and even managed to keep the awkwardness to a minimum when Nolan got here with our food.
“You can’t tell me that wasn’t the funniest moment of our childhood,” I counter Nolan’s outburst.
“I was six! What the hell did I know about where babies came from?” He argues.
I turn to Sam. “He was so afraid he’d poop out a baby he didn’t shit for like two weeks. Mom and Dad were so worried he’d explode, they forced a pint of prune juice down his throat until he didn’t have a choice.”
“I fucking hate you,” Nolan grumbles through his laugh. “Should we tell Sam about the time you thought you needed to fart and instead you shit your pants?”
My face turns beat red. “Hey, that can happen to anyone. In fact, Matthew had a similar problem when he was in high school. At least I was a kid when it happened to me.”
“I remember that one! Oh my God, that was so awful. It was in the car, and we had to drive with the windows down the rest of the way home.”
“In the middle of December, no less.” I laugh.
Sam shakes his head as he wipes his eyes. “You guys had a crazy childhood. I can’t even imagine what it would’ve been like to grow up with you.”
“Loud,” Nolan and I say at the same time, causing us to laugh again. It’s been a long time since I’ve laughed like this, and having Sam here to listen to the silly stories of our childhood makes it better. Even if Nolan embarrasses me in the process. Seeing how well Sam gets along with Nolan makes me wonder how he’d get along with the rest of my siblings. I’m sure he’d fit in better than I do. He’s so adaptable that I can imagine him rolling with the ridiculous things my family says at dinner.
“You didn’t grow up with any siblings, Sam?” Nolan asks.
“Nope. It was just me and my mom. The closest I’ll get to having them is the guys at the house. They’re like my brothers, now that I’ve been there so long.”
Nolan takes a sip of his beer. “How long have you been a firefighter?”
