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“I told Emmy that I think it’s a good idea. Plus, moving in next to Sterling puts me closer to you.”
“Not close enough,” he mutters.
“Samson.”
“I get it, Luna. I know she needs you. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
The sound of knocking draws my attention. “Hang on, Sterling’s here.”
I set my phone down and pad into the living area to let him in.
“Thanks for calling,” he says, blazing a path straight into Emmy’s room.
By the time I make it back to my bed, she’s settled and our suite is quiet.
I crawl back into my bed and pull my covers up to my chin. “Samson?”
“Yeah?”
“Tell me a story to help me fall back asleep?”
“A story?”
“I don’t know.” I yawn again. “Just talk to me. I wanna hear your voice.”
“Okay. Um. Do you remember when you were fourteen and Orion and I were going to the lake and you begged to come with us?”
“Yeah, and you told him to let me come.”
“That’s right. And like the idiot he is, he thought he could impress the two girls he invited by taking them fishing and catching our dinner.”
“Mmhmm,” I murmur sleepily.
“You wore this yellow bikini, and I remember thinking it was my favorite color. I couldn’t focus on anything but you—fucked up, I know—but you’ve always been it for me. Even before it was acceptable.”
“Really?”
“Really. Anyway, he wanted to impress them, but neither of them would bait their hooks because they didn’t want to touch worms. But you… you marched right up to that bucket, plucked out the fattest, juiciest worm, and did the damn thing. You didn’t balk, or squeal, or nothing. And then, you offered to bait theirs too, because that’s just the kind of girl you are.”
“What kind’s that?” I’m so tired, my words slur together.
“Brave. Caring. Kind. Hell, I probably even loved you then, Stella…”
I sigh contentedly as Samson talks until, finally, sleep takes me.
“But first coffee,” I mutter to myself, checking the time on my phone. It’s barely eight, but after nearly a week of next to no sleep, I’m tired.
Sterling’s deep voice filters out into the kitchen as I scoop grounds into the filter. “…you're serious about getting away for good, maybe while we're gone Gabe and Zach could help Stella move y'all into the unit next to mine?”
“I'd have to talk to Stella,” Emmy replies.
“Talk to me about what?” I ask, nudging her bedroom door open. Though, I’m pretty sure I know exactly what they were talking about, and I am absolutely for it.
“Stalk much?” Sterling asks, laughter coloring his words.
“Hey, I was making coffee and heard my name.”
“Emmalyn and I were talking about y'all moving in next to me. I suggested Gabe and Zach could help you move everything while I took our girl to my family's cabin.”
“And I" —Emmalyn glares at Sterling— “was telling him I couldn't make those kinds of decisions without talking to you.”
Called it! “Oh, I am totally down. Let's blow this popsicle stand.”
“Are you sure?” Emmy asks, sounding so hopeful my heart feels like it might burst.
“One-hundred-and-ten percent. And I know the guys will be down to help me move our stuff.” Samson included. “You just take care of you. Go to the cabin, relax and recharge. Read a book on a bearskin rug in front of the fire.”
“I thought you were supposed to make love in front of the fire?” Emmalyn asks, causing both Sterling and me to grin.
“Now, there's a thought,” he murmurs in her ear, causing my best friend to blush.
I can’t help but smile watching them together. For a couple that had such a rocky start, I’d be hard-pressed to think of two people more meant for each other than these two. You know, except for Samson and me.
“Oh my God! I cannot believe I just said that.”
Sterling smirks. “I'm just saying, baby. You want to give that a go, I'm down.”
“Okay.” Emmy’s previously apprehensive look melts into one of pure relief. “Let's do it.”
“There's no rug here,” Sterling deadpans. “Or fireplace.”
I slap my hand over my mouth to suppress my laugh. Never would have thought Mr. Serious could somehow make a dad joke sexual.
Emmy rolls her eyes. “I meant let's go to the cabin. And... let’s move.”
“Y'all want to get started on packing and I'll head home and pack a bag for the cabin?”
“Yup!” I say, rejoining the conversation. “It's basically just clothes and a few odds and ends.”
“Oh! We don't have furniture!" Emmy cries.
“You're in luck. It comes furnished,” Sterling says, his voice a smidge too tight to be natural, but Emmy doesn’t notice.
But I’m not about to call him on it. Nope. Instead, I smile and say, “Sounds like it was meant to be.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Samson
“Thanks for meeting me,” I say as Orion and Michael approach the bar.
I’ve been sitting here for the better part of an hour, peeling the label on my beer bottle while going over everything I plan to say with a fine-tooth comb.
