Page 27 of Thorns That Bloom
I’m not even sure why people have been so unwilling to do it in the first place. Each time I go up there, everyone is nice enough. I guess just being friendly from the get-go does a lot, instead of coming in with the mentality of entering some sort of enemy territory.
And, of course, I’m more than happy to do it, because it means I have an excuse to maybe see Sam.
I didn’t see him in the cafeteria for lunch. I might have missed him, sure, but something tells me he hasn’t been. So I take the opportunity by grabbing some food I made at home and bringing it to work with me. A plate of salmon for leanprotein, with a side of steamed leafy greens and green sprouts for fiber and vitamins, and some rice. Plus a few cubes of juicy mango. I remember Pop saying he craved mango constantly when he was pregnant with Gail and me.
From what I read online, this should be a balanced, healthy meal for someone in Sam’scondition. I hope he likes it. I hope he doesn’t have food aversions.
Did I make the meal mostly with him in mind? Ridiculously, absolutely crazily, because that’s what I like doing for the people I care about?Maybe. And how insane is it that I might actually have a chance to give it to him, too?
On my way to his office, I’m so nervous that my stomach feels like I’m on a boat in the middle of the ocean, and the deck is pitching below my feet. Sam’s door is wide open. I slow my pace, almost subconsciously, and hold my breath, inching toward it. I hear faint talking, so at first I wonder if he’s there with someone.
When I poke my head in, I see him back there, and my heart flutters wildly in response. He’s sitting in the chair—having rolled it away from the desk—looking like he’s having a break. Unaware of my presence, he stretches out, arms flexing above his head, before he bends down again, smiling at his belly as he puts his hands on it. “You’re awfully busy today,” he says in a voice so soft and tender it makes my cheeks burn. “What are you doing in there, huh?”
Oh, it’s almost like I’m in a trance. And it’s not just because the room is filled with his pheromones; thick and deep as I breathe them in, like I’m savoring aged wine. The blackcurrant is sweet, and the sage’s earthy. The two tones complement eachother perfectly.
As I stare at him, I feel something slither at the bottom of my stomach. A wild, overwhelming urge. One that almost reminds me of…
Am I starting my rut? No, that shouldn’t be possible. It’s too early.
Knowing I can’t stand here watching him like a creep, I gently knock on the door. That, and perhaps my movement, makes him glance up sharply. He looks taken aback. Like I interrupted something secret and important.
“Hey,” I say carefully, stepping into the threshold but not moving any further. I feel like a giddy teenager talking to him. I examine his reaction for the slightest show of emotion, hoping for a positive one.
The way he studies me is cold, but not entirely annoyed. More…reserved.
“Theo. Hi,” he says. My name on his lips is like a song. In fact, I have to gulp and blink to not focus on ittoomuch.
I wish I could get closer to see that beautiful face of his more closely. His short beard is the same shade of brown as the sweater he has on. He always wears them, and while it might make someone else look older or boring, he just looks…comfy. This one is thick, hiding his bump somewhat, but it’s still visible.
“I was sorting some stuff with the Engineering,” I say, quickly showing him the tablet in my other hand as proof. Can’t have him thinking I’m some weirdo who comes here only to see him. No, no, that would be creepy. “I just wanted to stop in to make sure you’re…doing okay, if that’s all right.” Is my voice trembling, or does it sound so stupid only in my head?Damn it.
Sam widens his eyes before his expression settles into that neutral, slightly hard-to-approach one. I like it. He doesn’t pretend. I can see all his emotions as they come, even if they’re not exactly the ones Iwantto see.
“Oh.”
Not much for me to work with, but that’s fine.
“I um…anyway, one of the guys got me lunch, but I brought in my own food today, so I figured maybe you’d want this? Since you’re eating for two and all that.”
My god, is that lie even believable? Why am I bringing food to this man who doesn’t want to have anything to do with me? Is it too out there?
“I-I just didn’t want to throw it away. Seems kind of wasteful,” I keep talking, keep making it worse, sounding more and more like a bumbling idiot.
Sam looks at the plate I’m presenting, and I think I sense a hint of interest in his eyes, so I make a slow, careful step toward him. And then another. He doesn’t look uncomfortable as I fully approach him. I want him to understand that I’m not dangerous, but I know it’s more complicated than that.
“Here,” I say, placing the plate on the edge of his table. The way his eyes brighten up upon examination of it makes me melt. He’s obviously hungry. I watch his lips as they part, and his tongue slides between them. I do all I can to keep myself in check. He absolutely can’t sense my pheromones. Cannot know what he’s doing to me. Not if I want him to feel safe around me.
And I want nothing more than that.
“That’s… Thanks for that,” he says, a little weary, but the sliver of warmth pushes its way into those words, and my heart nearly leaps out of my chest. I smile widely, unable to control myown intensity, so I step away again, not wanting to ruin this moment.
“No problem.”
After feasting his eyes on the food in front of him, he cautiously raises them toward me, watching me through his long black lashes. I could stare at him forever. I could…but I shouldn’t. And when his gaze narrows, I realize I might be unintentionally showing a little too much of that desire.
I slap my hands together awkwardly, and a little too loudly for the small space. “I better get going. You enjoy that. See um— See you around, I guess,” I mumble, quickly retreating before he can get a proper look at what a mess I am.
Or before he can sense the whirlwind of emotion inside me.
