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“I—” She shook her head. No use lying when he could see right through her. “I’msorry. I guess I’m not used to seeing the guys…”
He lifted that one eyebrow, patiently waiting for her to continue, but now that she started to explain, she wasn’t sure she wanted him to know. This was supposed to be an emotionless thing. There was no point in opening up her box of secrets.
“What?”
“Nothing. I gotta go.” Eddie was starting to get himself tangled up again, and she shook the leash to get his attention before stepping away.
“Come on, don’t do that.” He curled his fingers around her wrist. “You’ve always told me what’s on your mind. Don’t stop now.”
She forced out a laugh. “There’s nothing on my mind, all right? If you want to hear about Eli, the guy I was having sex with back in Michigan, I’ll tell you. Although I assumed you didn’t want to hear how I’d text him to come over and bring pizza, and then he’d leave right after.” When he frowned, she tossed her hand out. “I didn’t think so.”
“You think I’m like this Eli guy?” His question was spiked like thorns on a rose. The problem was, Mike was nothing like Eli.
She had no problem saying goodnight, see ya later to Eli.
With Mike, though, she had trouble. Which was exactly why she needed some space. They weren’t dating, and this wasn’t her fairy tale. These were a few weeks with the guy she had a crush on as a kid. That was it.
Eddie tugged on the leash, and she followed him, still looking at Mike. “No, you’re not like him. You’re not like any guy I’ve ever been with.”
Then she pivoted and walked away before she said something else she might regret.
* * *
Mike didn’t likehow he’d left his conversation with Sam yesterday, so when his mother shoved two bags full of Tupperware and groceries into his hands to take next door, he willingly obliged. He rang the doorbell and waited while he listened to Sam yell out that she’d get the door.
She opened it with a flourish, her hair down with pieces flying around from the force of the swinging door. “Hey, what are you doing?”
“Who is it?” Mr. Kohler grumbled, ambling down the hall on his crutches.
“Dad! Sit down! I told you I’d answer it.”
“I can do it.”
She rolled her eyes and stared up at Mike as if he could help. But he knew stubborn when he saw it.
“Looking good, Phil,” he said. “My mom thought you guys might want some food.” He held up the bags to show them.
“Well, that’s very nice of her. Come on in,” Mr. Kohler said, and Sam moved to the side so he could enter their home. Mike followed behind Phil, who moved at a snail’s pace with his crutches, and behind him, Sam sighed. He guessed she probably had a tough time keeping her dad off his feet.
Mike glanced into their living room, where pillows and sheets were laid out on the sofa, with a laptop, cell phone, and dirty dishes piled on top of the coffee table. “Been sleeping on the couch?”
“Yeah, it’s been hell on my back, but Samantha doesn’t want me going up the stairs yet.” Phil sat down on one of the chairs in the kitchen and reached out to shift another over to prop up his foot, but Sam was there, already doing it. “Pain in the ass,” he mumbled, his frown growing into a playful smile.
“And where would you be without me, huh? I don’t see Gavin around here to help.”
“That’s why he’s my favorite child.”
Sam mumbled something under her breath that sounded like it was about her brother’s balls dropping, and Mike swiped his palm over his mouth as she started unpacking everything.
Phil tipped his chin toward the counter. “Is that pulled pork I see?”
Sam held up the glass dish. “Yep. You want some?” At his nod, she placed the dish on the kitchen table along with the buns and pasta salad Mike’s mom had packed up. “You want me to—”
“Get out, Sammy,” Phil said, pointing to the back door with his fork. “Mike, please tell her to leave me alone.”
When Mike looked over at Sam, she propped her hands on her hips, her head tilted in a challenge. He wasn’t about to get in the middle of this fight. “You want to go for ice cream or something?”
“Yes, good idea,” Phil said as he dug into the food, his eyes on his plate as he scooped meat onto a bun. “Go get ice cream.”
