Page 76 of Pretty Please Me
I can’t help but wonder what happened to Sam to make him so guarded. I doubt he’ll tell me himself, so I guess there’s only one other way to find out…
TWENTY-EIGHT
Maggie
“Look who the cat dragged in,” James calls from where he’s sitting in his favorite leather chair. I glance behind me and see a messy-haired Sam approaching with squinting eyes.
“How are you feeling?” I abandon my post of peeling potatoes and rush to him, careful not to knock him off balance with my hug.
His large hand rubs my back, sending a shiver down my spine. “I’m feeling much better today. Thank you for everything yesterday.” He stiffens. “It wasn’t my proudest moment.”
“Sam, you can’t help that you got vertigo from a roller coaster,” I scold. “Now, have a seat, and letmemakeyousome coffee.” I pull out the bar stool, and he sits hesitantly.
“Your Maggie is quite the little chef, Samuel. She’s teaching me how to make boxty,” Charlotte says as she bumps her hips to mine.
“Is she?” Sam sounds surprised as he eyes me. “I had no idea you could cook.” He takes a sip of his black coffee. “I learn something new about you every day.”
I roll my eyes and continue peeling the potatoes. “Well, in my defense, you’re always so bossy, ordering dinner before I can offer.” I shrug and wink at him.
“I suppose you’re right,” he says with a laugh.
“Now, Maggie, where was it you said you learned how to make this? A family recipe, perhaps?” Charlotte asks innocently, and Sam nearly chokes on his coffee.
“Well… um…”
“Maggie grew up in foster care. She aged out of the system when she turned eighteen,” Sam answers for me. “I thought I told you that?” he says in a clipped tone.
Charlotte sucks in a gasp, her cheeks heating with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, dear! I had no idea.” She turns to Sam. “I feel certain I would’ve remembered a piece of crucial information like that,” she scolds Sam. “I’m so sorry for asking such a stupid question. Please forgive my ignorance.”
“It’s fine.” I wave her off. “I suppose I’m probably Irish or Scottish somewhere down the line.” I pull at my long braid. “I was always the oldest kid in the homes, and the families depended on me to help out.” I shrug. “I cooked dinner most nights and always liked to try new things with common household ingredients. The little kids loved it when I cooked. So that’s how it all started.”
Charlotte places her hand on top of mine, and I pause my peeling. “You really are a little diamond in the rough, aren’t you?” A tender smile covers her face, and she points her dish towel at Sam. “You better not run this one off. We all just love her.”
I swallow a gulp as silence fills the air between us. I hold my breath, waiting for Sam to reassure her, but he doesn’t say a word. I can feel his eyes on me, heating my skin as if they’re laser beams, but I don’t meet his gaze. I just busy myself with cooking.
A few minutes later, Wren waddles in with Denver by her side, and Charlotte rushes to help her get settled on the couch, her questions forgotten. I suppose I’m thankful for the interruption. It makes things far less awkward for both of us.
* * *
After breakfast, I take a long, hot shower, letting the events of the last few days melt away. I can’t help the confusion stirring in my gut as my mind and body fight over who should be in charge of my thinking. Being here with Sam’s family has been so wonderful and painful at the same time. It’s like tearing open a scab that I thought was almost healed but finding out the wound is still very raw and fresh. It makes me question everything I’m working toward in life, and suddenly, I feel like I’m running out of time to figure out what I really want.
I’m sitting cross-legged and braiding my damp hair into a French braid down my back in the corner of the room in front of a full-length mirror. In the background, I can hear Sam’s deep laughter echoing, and it sends chills up my arms. Who knew his laugh was so full of life? I can’t help but wonder what else I don’t know about him. I feel like he knows everything there is to know about me at this point.
It’s not that I expect him to change his mind about us… or having a real relationship with me. His limits were extremely clear when he presented me with the contract. But I suppose there was a piece of me deep down that I kept tucked away in my heart that hoped he’d discover something he liked about me. That I would be special enough to change him.
I shake my head and scoff at the thought. It sounds ridiculous. Like I’ve set myself up to be hurt. I can’t let myself think that way, not if I want to walk away from this with any of my heart left to give. For once in my life, I’d like to be someone’s first choice, but maybe that isn’t in the cards for me. Maybe I’ll always have to prove myself and work a little harder than everyone else to convince someone that I’m special. Maybe that’s just how things are supposed to be for me.
My phone buzzes with a text message, and after I finish my braid, I cautiously lift the phone to see a new message from Trent. My eyes dart to the closed door as if afraid Sam’s watching me. Why should it matter if he is anyway? I click open my texts.
Trent
I can’t believe I’m going to get to see you in real life in less than two days. I know you said not to message, but I couldn’t help myself. I’ve been staring at the picture you sent every single night, and I wanted to give you a little something to think about, too.
The next message pops up, and my eyes nearly pop out of my head as I stare at a picture of what I presume is Trent’s hard penis, his hand gripped firmly around his shaft.
I let out a scream, and my phone flies out of my hand from the shock. Holy shit. I just got my very first dick pic.
My eyes widen, and I cover my mouth, hoping no one heard my scream. But it’s too late. Not three seconds later, Sam, Drew, and Jamie burst through the door.
