Page 83 of Show Me 1
Sam was opening his first gym in the spring with some of our OnlyFans earnings and had spent the past year prepping for it, meeting with architects to design the interior of the warehouse space he’d rented, building his own workout programs, and tapping his old football buddies at the U for marketing help here and there. I was certain it would be an amazing success, but the closer we got to it, the more anxious Sam got.
“Show them, they’ll love it.” I kissed him again, softer, when he hedged. “It’s going to be great.” And then I had to turn away because my eyes were brimming the way they sometimes did when my heart got too full too fast. It was the love version of brain freeze where I got bowled over by all that I had now: by the man standing behind me, our small but cozy apartment with a view of City Park below, the best coffee roasters ever on the first floor, a job I loved, and cooking classes I loved even more.
But mostly because of the man standing behind me.
Sam folded me into his arms, his words rumbling close next to my ear. “You doing that thing where you tear up, baby?”
“Maybe.” I stuck a spatula in the mashed potatoes and stirred them with a sigh. “You take such good care of me, and I’m such a fucking sucker for it.”
His lips moved over my neck. “I love taking care of you. Love making you feel good.” My eyes fluttered shut as he slid a hand down the back of my pajama pants and cupped my ass. “Love everything about you, including this tight little ass.”
“You’re doing that on purpose.” I tapered off on a moan as I pushed back against him.
“Maybe.” He swatted my asscheek with a chuckle. “All right, let’s get this show on the road.”
* * *
Mark and Chet arrived first.Sam let them in and fixed them up with a drink while I finished dealing with a turkey. I’d long learned one didn’t just cook a turkey, onedealtwith turkey. It was probably dumb to cook a whole bird for a bunch of heathens like us, especially when we’d all be eating plenty over the next few days, but between our crazy schedules, Sam and I didn’t do a lot of entertaining at our place or have people over, so it was nice to do it for once.
“That smells amazing.” Mark appeared in the doorway nursing a beer. “Sam must have cooked it.”
“You’re funny.”
He winked.
“Sam does all right, though, as long as it’s clean eating. If it’s something delicious and savory, forget about it.” I stirred the gravy on the stove and then turned the burner off.
“What’s the status of the restaurant?”
“Pushed until summer because of a delay on some materials, but it’s still happening. And that’s actually better because I’ll have officially graduated from culinary school by then.” I’d kept my job as sous chef at Fuego for the rest of senior year and beyond when I started culinary school. I’d gotten really tight with the owner, and when he decided to open a new restaurant, he’d asked me to be part of the team doing it. I wasn’t executive chef yet, but I took it as a sign that I was heading in that direction. I wanted to get enough hands-on training, and then I hoped to eventually open my own restaurant. Only Sam knew that, though. I was too afraid to speak it aloud to anyone else, yet, but we’d started putting our savings together for it, too.
“Keep us posted on the opening. Chet and I are definitely coming, even if I have to drag him out of the law library.”
“I will,” I promised and dried my hands on a towel as the doorbell rang again, and I heard the boom of Nate’s voice as he came in.
Mark grabbed his beer as I checked the turkey one more time, then trailed him into the living room.
Sam grabbed Nate and Eric’s coats and tossed them over the couch.
“Sorry we’re late,” Eric said. “Guess who doesn’t know how to change a tire?”
“You?” Chet laughed.
Eric clenched Nate’s shoulder. “Nope, this guy right here. Mr. Apple Pie and Baseball. Mr. All American Boy Next Door can’t change a tire.”
I squinted at Nate. “You helped me change my tire sophomore year after I ran over a nail. Or did I hallucinate that?”
“That was me.” Nate’s smirk morphed into a full-on grin and then laughter as Eric’s grip on his shoulders tightened.
“You motherfucker. You were lying?”
Nate shrugged. “It’s cold outside and the pants you’re wearing dip nice and low when you bend over to do something like, say, change a tire.”
Eric opened, then closed his mouth again and shook his head. “Well played, frat boy. That’s next-level right there.”
“Learned from a pro.” Nate’s laugh was shameless.
“Y’all hungry? The turkey’s already ready, so we can go ahead and eat.”