Chapter Text
Hot water cascades down my face and neck as I face the shower. Submerged in water and warmth, I take a deep breath in, trying to get rid of this pit in my stomach.
It's not even a big deal. You're just going to meet Sam's mom. You're only having dinner with the two most important people in his life.
Fuck.
I turn, hastily opening up my body scrub. Scooping a big clump in my hand, I polish my body until my hands are raw. I shave. I wash my face, wash my hair twice and use a hair mask. Just anything and everything to get out of my head. When I told Sam about how anxious I was about today, he told me I just needed some 'Self-care.'
Self-care my ass. I almost feel worse when I step out of the shower. It's so cold my nipples tighten painfully before I pull on my fluffy pink towel. I chatter my teeth, running to the bedroom after I've hastily dried myself off a bit.
Upon entering my room, I catch a glimpse at Sam, who's currently preoccupied with using my tall standing mirror to gel his hair. I watch him for a second, smiling deliriously at how adorable he looks when he's concentrating, and suddenly, I don't feel nearly as cold anymore.
"See something you like?" he asks when he notices my wandering gaze. I should be embarrassed to be caught staring, but I just narrow my eyes at him, amused.
The truth is, Sam looks so goddamn handsome he could bring me to my knees. Even though his outfit is casual - a black tee that's tight in all the right places and a pair of gray cargo pants, it's on him, and I am obsessed with him. He always fills out his clothes so well. I even love the way he gels his hair, though I do prefer it loose and soft.
It's much easier to grab and pull like that.
"Mm-hm." I answer, dropping my towel and walking over until I can wrap my arms around him. I bury my head into his back, breathing in his scent. A hint of smoke lingers, too, from our session earlier.
Sam sighs contently as I squeeze him. "You okay?" he asks.
I release him, letting out a sigh of my own. "Just nervous."
My boyfriend gives me an apologetic stare through the mirror. “I'm sorry, baby. I know you are really stepping out of your comfort zone for me, and I really appreciate that.”
I’m smiling timidly as he turns towards me and sets his hands on my hips.
“My mom is gonna love you.” He leans forward and presses a kiss to my lips. I open my mouth, wrapping my hands around his neck. Maybe I can tempt him into staying home and in bed…
Sam entertains me for a moment, swiping his tongue along mine. I moan in his mouth. He bites down on my lower lip before pulling away, grinning shamelessly. “Now get dressed. If we fuck again, I know you’ll mess up my hair.” He turns back around, admiring himself in the mirror.
I scoff, walking past him and towards my closet. I see his gaze on me before I see his hand. A hard smack lands on my left ass cheek and I turn to glare at him.
"Don't act like you don't like it." he mutters, sliding his gaze back up to my lips. "Now be a good girl and get ready for me."
As much as I want to roll my eyes at him - he's right. I really need to change. I walk into my closet, surveying my options.
"Can I help you out?" Sam asks, walking behind me. His hands hold onto my waist as he steps into the closet.
"You want to pick my outfit?" I question. When I see his self-satisfied smirk, I know the answer is yes.
Sam quickly chooses a black dress made of soft, stretchy material that falls to my mid thigh. It's flow-y at the bottom, so it isn't too tight. I'm wearing his grey-and-white flannel on top and tights underneath for extra protection from the cold. When I pull the fabric onto my shoulders, I smile.
It smells like him.
I mentally thank myself when we pull open the door and walk outside. There's a light layer of snow outside, so if I wore anything other than my boots I would honestly be screwed. He grabs my hand when we get down the steps of my front porch, offering me an elated smile.
The walk to his house is quiet, besides the soft sound of Sam humming beside me. I smile softly. These past few days, I’ve gotten used to hearing this melody. He’s been obsessed with working on this song in his free time. He won’t let me see the lyrics, but he brought his guitar over to mine so I hear him practice a lot. It’s a welcome change to the silence I’m used to.
It doesn’t take us long to get to his place. About ten minutes after walking out my front door, we’re here. My chest tightens and my stomach drops. Tension creeps into my muscles, leaving me unsteady. I grasp onto the back of Sam’s shirt to brace myself. He glances over at me with those big, expressive blue eyes full of concern.
“I’m okay,” I assure him. “It’s just a little anxiety.”
Sam turns toward me, his full blonde brows furrowed. “I can tell her you’re sick if you need more time. You don’t have to go through with this.”
I know those words are true. I know he would lie for me in a heartbeat. I know he doesn’t want to make me uncomfortable - but I need to do this. Not only for him, but for myself.
So what if she doesn’t like me? Sam loves me, and assures me it’s not going to change. No matter what happens. I need to push through. I need to make a good impression on Jodi.
There's only one thing to do. I swallow down my anxiety and shake my head. I wrap my arms around his neck, the unshaven scruff tickling my fingers. “You forgot to shave again.”
Sam grins as my thumb traces his jawline. “You don’t like your man a little hairy?”
I scoff. “Sir, you are more than a little hairy. Have you seen how much is growing on your chest now?“
He shuts me up with a kiss that leaves my lips tingling. My hands frame his face as our lips touch, gently. Afterwards, his strong arms wrap around me, and my elevated heart rate slows. His warmth envelops me fully as I breathe in his scent.
He’s calming me down.
“I don’t like it.” I murmur against his hard chest. “I love it.”
Sam strokes his hand down my back, lips pressing to my forehead. “You almost got me there.”
We are quickly interrupted by the front door swinging open abruptly. I scramble out of Sam’s arms, fully embarrassed as a wide eyed, beautiful woman stands in the doorway with a trash bag in her hand. Her chestnut hair is in a long, thick braid. Delicate strands fall out around her face.
I didn’t expect Sam’s mom to look so young. The resemblance in their faces is uncanny. They have the same striking smile - one that's full of joy. Their noses are similar too. Jodi's eyes are only a touch darker than her oldest son's.
Jodi lights up at the sight of us. “Sammy!”
Sam pulls away from me and turns towards his mother, who drags him in for a big hug. I feel a strange ache brewing in my gut watching them. I never really had a maternal figure in my life. I've never experienced a mother's love. Maybe it’s loss? Jealously?
Either way, my heart squeezes in my chest the instant she turns her attention to me, taking me in from head to toe. Honestly, I could drop dead right now and that would be fine. With how fast my heart rate is, I wouldn't be surprised if it's from sudden cardiac arrest.
“You must be Ana.” She says, oddly cheerfully. That is the only warning I get before she pulls me in for a crushing hug as well.
My cheeks heat with embarrassment at the contact. I'm not experienced in hugging people. Especially people I've only just met. But Jodi smells good, comfortable, like linen and vanilla.
It’s how I always imagined my own mother would smell. Her arms squeeze me for a brief moment, and I hope she can’t hear the frantic beating of my heart.
Once she pulls away, she stares at me again. Each second she does feels like she’s peeling away at my skin with those light blue eyes that are practically identical to Sam’s. For a second, I fear that she can see everything that’s wrong with me. Only, when she speaks, she simply says, “Wow, what stunning pink hair. Sam was right. You really are so beautiful.”
“Thank you.” I murmur. “It’s nice to meet you.” Somehow I manage to rasp out those words through the pain in my chest.
Fuck anxiety.
She grins at me. “Likewise. Sam has told me lots about you. It’s so nice to finally put a face to the name.”
My lips form an awkward smile at her words. She doesn’t let my silence linger, pulling me by my wrist and into the house.
“Come in!” She insists.
Sam follows right behind me. We walk through a comfortably furnished living room into a kitchen. My gaze falls on the dining table, already set for four guests. Instantly, warmth floods my chest. It’s such a small gesture but fills me with an overwhelming sense of belonging. Honestly, I shouldn’t get worked up about it, but I do.
Jodi steps away to get Vincent and tells Sam and I to take our seats. He pulls my chair out for me and I sit. He follows, taking the chair next to me and glancing over. I try not to let my gaze linger on the way his thighs spread while he sits. That little rise in his pants right where his zipper is.
Now is not the time Ana.
Sam must hear my thoughts or see the feral look on my face, because he smirks and shakes his head. He plasters his hand on my thigh, his fingers warming my skin beneath my tights.
“We’re having my mom’s lasagna tonight. I begged her to make it for us because I wanted you to try it. It’s my favorite.” Sam tells me, winking. My heart soars at his confession.
“I’ve never had homemade lasagna before.” I admit. Sure, I've gone to Italian restaurants, but I did most of my own cooking growing up. A home cooked dinner made by someone other than myself is like a luxury for me.
His eyes go wide. “You’ve obviously never lived.”
A moment later, a red haired child comes bounding in the kitchen, screaming without warning. “Sam!”
He runs straight to the man in question, wrapping his arms around him. Even sitting down, Sam is much bigger than his brother. The boy only reaches his waist in the chair.
Sam chuckles, patting Vince on the back. “Hey, buddy. How was it today with Penny and Jas?”
Vincent scowls. “Boring. Miss Penny made us read a book and do math. I hate math.”
Jodi shakes her head at her younger son, whose attention is already on me. His big blue eyes bore into me - the odd one out. The intruder.
I smile at him, hoping it doesn’t look as awkward as I feel inside.
“Is this her?” He asks, pointing at me. “Your girlfriend?”
Sam grins and puts the hand that was on my thigh around my waist. “This is her. Vince, meet Ana.”
Vincent practically explodes with excitement, jumping up and down with a huge grin on his face. “She’s so pretty!”
“Thank you,” I respond, feeling a little shy.
After listening to Sam’s brother ramble on about trains, t-rexes and video games, Jodi brings out plates of the most delicious-looking lasagna I’ve ever seen. Its layers are filled with tomato sauce, creamy cheese and ground meat and it smells impeccable; deliciously fragrant and indulgent. My stomach rumbles in anticipation.
The dinner is nothing short of amazing. Sam’s family is so kind and surprisingly funny - though, I shouldn’t be shocked. He’s the funniest person I know. My chest warms from being around a family - a real one, not just my negligent father and the few aunts and uncles who decided the wanted to try to care for me. Try, being the right word to describe the way they treated me. They hardly attempted to deal with me, with my overwhelming emotions and temper tantrums. They didn’t want to. They would lock me in my room for days at a time, only opening the door to feed me. I was a burden my father gave to them, and they all hate my father.
Jodi asks me about them; my family, and I answer her with the truth. "Honestly, I am not close with any of them."
She surprises me by being empathetic. She tells me she’s sorry, that I didn’t deserve that. She tells me that she’s always wanted a daughter, and there’s always room in her heart for for me. My eyes nearly fill with tears. I wait for the catch, the judgement, the shaming. It doesn’t come. She’s just kind, and even seems a bit sad herself. She doesn’t stop bringing up her husband, Kent, which brings my thoughts to the conversation Sam and I had about our fathers. The things he told me…I don’t hold Kent in the same light as I do Jodi. He sounds cruel, and it makes me wonder why a woman like her would be with someone like that. But then again, my ex husband was cruel. Maybe she was just trapped. That thought makes my heart sink.
We stay past sundown sitting on the couch looking at old photos, much to Sam’s dismay. He protests but I insist, and with him, I always know how to get my way.
Especially if it means I might get punished later. I've been taunting him a lot recently. Considering the way he's looking at me right now - with his eyes squinted, expression dangerous and lips quirked in the most devastating smirk, I think it might be on the table.
I hold a photo of Sam at seven years old, Vincent’s age, and snicker. His blonde hair is lighter and cropped at his ears in a bowl cut.
Sam quickly pulls the photo from my hands, hiding it away. “I hated that haircut. I screamed when the barber showed me what my mom had done to me.”
I hear Jodi snort in the kitchen where she is washing dishes. “You’re so dramatic, Samson. It was cute.”
A few more pictures and a lot more laughs later, Vincent gets sleepy and Sam and I stand.
“It was so lovely to have you guys,” Jodi tells us as we make our way towards the front door. She runs up to Sam and pulls him into a tight embrace before doing the same to me. When she pulls away, she meets my gaze with her own.
“You always have a place and a family here.” She tells me, and I know she isn’t lying. Her blue eyes are full of warmth and sincerity.
“Thank you.” I murmur. “I will be back next week for dinner again, I promise.”
“Good.” She nods, her lips stretched in a wide grin. She turns to her son, grabbing him by the cheek. “Now go and shave this off, Samson. You look ridiculous.”
I snort as Sam shakes his head. “Bye, Mom.” He embraces her, then turns to wave one last time to his little brother before taking my hand in his.
“Bye, guys.” I say, turning back at his family with a smile.
Vincent and Jodi wave back, the door closes, and we are alone.
We take our time walking home. I hold onto Sam’s arm and push myself against his side, cushioning my body with his warmth.
“I told you everything would be okay,” he reminds me. He turns his head to me, giving me one of those charming grins I love so much. “I haven’t had that much fun with my family in a while.” He notes.
I tilt my head, curious. “What do you mean?”
“Mom stays busy. She puts all this extra stress on herself to be perfect. Honestly, I think she’s just lonely.” Sam’s face falls for a moment, and I squeeze his hand tighter. “She needs things to fill the space that my dad did. So she’s always cooking, always cleaning and always tired.”
“Maybe we should visit more often.” I suggest. A second later, I’m gnawing at my lip and saying “Only if she’s okay with it. I wouldn’t want to intrude on your family time.”
Sam scoffs, moving the arm I’m gripping on to to brush down my spine. His fingers gently stroke away at my back to soothe my tense nerves. “Baby, trust me when I say she would love that.” His big hand wraps around my waist and I lean into him, succumbing to his warmth and scent. Sweet and masculine and beautiful, just like him. “I hope you know that family time includes you, too.”
His footsteps stop, right in front of my cabin. He gazes down at me, his blue eyes illuminated by the light on my front porch. I can see the softness in his expression as his lips twitch into a smile. His large, warm hand envelops my cheek and I let out an involuntary sigh.
“Are you okay?” I ask him. He’s quiet, and it’s unusual for him.
“I’ve never been better.” He sighs out, pressing his lips to my hair briefly. My stomach floods with butterflies. “I was just thinking something silly.”
I shove him playfully away, flustered by his closeness. “I’m sure it’s not silly, whatever it is.”
Sam swallows nervously. “I was just thinking…this little place feels more like home than the one I grew up in.”
My heart warms at his words. God, he is so endearing. The softness in his gentle gaze and that slight furrow in his full brows shows the truth of his confession. “Maybe it’s the silence. It’s so peaceful at night.” I murmur, letting my gaze fall on the starry night sky that I’ve become so accustomed to. Sometimes I forget that in the city this view is inaccessible - hidden away by smog and pollution.
Sam shakes his head, rubbing his thumb along my cheek. My eyes fall back on his face as he pulls me closer until our bodies connect. I let him this time. “My home is wherever you are, Ana.”