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Now that I’m semi-sane, I notice her hands are filled with paper bags. “What are they?”
“You’re kidding, right?” When I shrug, pulling a guilty face, she shakes her head. “Have you forgotten what day it is?”
I scratch my temple. “Well…”
She looks at Saxon, then at Sam, who raises his hands in the air. “Don’t look at me. I’m the one with amnesia, remember?”
Piper huffs, placing the bags onto the counter. “It’s Saturday.”
Oh, shit.
Before I can gripe that I’m in no mood to party, Piper points her fingers at me. “Luce, don’t even. It’s happening.” I slouch low and sip my coffee, knowing that it’ll be one of many.
Saxon dishes up the delicious smelling breakfast, but I’ve suddenly lost my appetite. The thought of having random strangers in my home does not sound appealing whatsoever. My head already feels like it’s about to explode. I don’t need to add rowdy partygoers to the mix. This is a bad idea on all accounts, but I don’t stand a chance against party planner Piper.
We eat in relative silence, the TV filling the calm. To someone looking in, we would appear like a normal family eating breakfast together on a Saturday morning. But I know better. I’m a bundle of nerves, waiting for Sam to lose his temper over something small and storm out, claiming how much he hates being here. But he doesn’t. He eats, trying to make conversation with Saxon, who looks just as puzzled as me.
What’s going on? What has happened for Sam to start acting like…Sam? Like the old Sam I loved more than life itself. I should be over the moon, ecstatic that he’s making an effort, but something doesn’t feel right. I just can’t place my finger on it.
“You don’t like your eggs?”
“Huh?” I blurt out, looking up to see Saxon smirking. He gestures with his fork to my plate.
Peering down, I see that I’ve massacred my breakfast, leaving behind a colorful mess. Pushing my plate away, I sigh. Saxon gulps down his coffee and places his plate in the dishwasher. “I’m going to pick up my bike.”
His comment has me snapping out of my funk as I desperately want to talk to him and ask if Sam has said anything to him. Before I can offer to drive him however, Piper shoots up from her stool while shoveling the last of her breakfast into her mouth. “I’ll drive you,” she says around a mouthful of food.
Saxon’s gaze flicks my way before he nods. “Thanks.”
“Piper, if you want to stay here and decorate, I can drive Saxon,” I offer, hoping she’ll take the bait.
Of course she doesn’t. “No, it’s fine. I need to pick up a few extra things anyway.” No she doesn’t. The bags she bears are packed full. But I don’t make a fuss.
Sam looks at me and again, that thing called a smile is directed my way. “Maybe we can get a head start on tonight?”
I can’t hide my surprise. “S-sure.”
Saxon runs a hand through his sleep mussed hair, narrowing his eyes. Piper let’s him ponder for a second before looping her arm through his. “Ready when you are.”
Her chirpy voice is filled with excitement, as I know she’s eager to spend some alone time with Saxon. Knowing Piper, they’ll take the longest detour possible. Rising, I scrape my untouched breakfast into the trash, hoping my uneasiness doesn’t shine.
“We won’t be long,” Saxon says from behind me. “Did you want to come for a drive?”
I know what he’s doing and I appreciate it. He’s acting on his promise to take care of me, obviously sensing my distress. Turning, I see Piper shaking her head animatedly behind Saxon’s back, waving her hands in the air.
“No, it’s okay. Sam is right. It’s probably a good idea to get things underway.” Saxon nods, but his usual poker face isn’t as foolproof as it once was because I can now read him just as well as he can read me.
Once they’re out the door, my palms begin to sweat and an awkward silence permeates the air. I’m filled with a heavy sadness when it becomes evident that I no longer feel comfortable around my fiancé. There was a time when I believed I could tell Sam anything, but things have changed. I’m now too afraid to talk in fear of getting my head bitten off.
When Sam clears his throat, appearing just as uncomfortable as I am, I decide to make the first move. Pushing down the past few weeks, I try my best to smile and mean it. “So, what’s Piper got in there?”
Sam looks relieved that I instigated conversation as I have every right to tell him to shove it. But the fact that he’s trying has me wanting to try too. I just have to remember that underneath his harsh words, bad attitude, and constant hatred lies the man I was going to marry. And besides, this is what I wanted, wasn’t it?
As Sam begins hunting through the bags, pulling out every known party supply possible, I can’t help but think I should have been careful what I wished for. “How many people did she invite?” he says, whistling.
Looking at the loaded counter, I shake my head. “Knowing Piper, too many.”
“Well, we’re in for some night.” I unexpectedly shiver and I don’t know why. “Where should we start?”
