“Don’t call me that.”
“There’s a letter for you tucked in there.”
“A letter?” She blinks.
“That’s what I said.”
She snorts. “Hard pass.”
“I get that you’re mad, and you have every right to be.”
“Damn straight I do.”
“But I really think we need to talk—”
“The only thing we need to talk about is you staying the hell away from me. You did it so wonderfully for the last nine months.” Stella shoves past me, knocking her shoulder into my chest. “Now, keep it up… I don’t know… forever.”
With a parting smile that’s as cold as ice, she turns and flees down the stairs, taking them two at a time.
I’m not so dumb that I thought an I’m sorry, please forgive me, would be enough to get back into her good graces, but I wasn’t prepared for her to totally ice me out either.
I guess I should have expected it, but hope makes a fool out of us all from time to time.
But it’s all good. I love her stubborn ass and I know full and well that she’s more than worth whatever hell she’s going to me through to win her back.
I take a minute to recenter, and by the time I make it back downstairs, everyone is gathered around the table, ready and waiting.
“Can we eat?” Stella asks, her voice reaching the landing.
“Not until Samson joins us.”
She sinks back into her chair. “Whatever.”
“Sorry to keep y’all waiting,” I say, sliding into the chair beside Orion as I take in the spread. “Looks as good as it smells, Mrs. C.”
Lizzie beams, while her daughter scoffs.
“We’re all glad to have you home, son,” Michael says, a smile I can’t quite read carving his lips.
“Can we eat now?”
“Stella!” Lizzie admonishes. “You’re being rude.”
She rolls her eyes and then glares at me, as though I’m the sole cause of every bad thing in the world. “So?”
Her mom sighs. “I know you were hurt when—”
Stella shoves her chair back from the table with enough force her place setting rattles.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m not hungry,” she growls before turning and fleeing back to the safety of her room.
“Must be on her period,” Orion says, scooping a heaping portion of mashed potatoes onto his plate.
“Don’t talk like that at the table!” Lizzie screeches, her cheeks turning as red as the tomatoes in the salad.
“Or about your sister,” Michael adds, but my best friend only shrugs.
“Always nice to be with family,” I murmur, hoping to break the tension, but the only person who laughs is Orion.
“Let’s… let’s just eat,” Lizzie says.
The four of us take turns loading our plates with food before digging in. We eat in an awkward silence—something that never happens at the Cartwright table—and I can’t help but wonder if the food I was looking so forward to tastes like ash to them as well.
“Samson,” Michael says after polishing off his last bite. “I hope you’ll join us at the lake for our end-of-summer getaway?”
I pretend to mull it over, knowing good and well that I’m going to go. “Yeah, I can come down.”
“Good.” Michael nods, his gaze boring into mine.
I’m certain if given the choice, Stella would rather me drown in the lake than to spend the weekend with me, but I’m not about to pass on the chance of scoring some one-on-one time with her. Even if I have to lock her ass in the boathouse and make her talk to me.
Chapter Nine
Stella
“He’s not even here and he’s ruining it,” I grumble to myself as I strip out of my wet swimsuit and step under the warm spray of the shower.
While everyone else had a good time today, I sulked and watched the driveway. Even now, as I wash the lake water from my hair, I can’t decide if I’m angry he didn’t show or relieved.
Definitely relieved.
His sudden reappearance in my life is like a slap in the face—one that still stings weeks later. To make matters even worse, he looks good. Damn good. Certainly not like he’s been missing me the way I have him.
But that’s fine. It’s fine. “Everything is fine.” I speak the last words out loud, hoping the universe will hear them and cut me some slack.
I mean, really. Right when I was finally starting to get over him—at least that’s what I’m telling myself—there he was, crashing back into my life, unwanted and unwelcome.
And now, I’ve been avoiding both him and my brother—because where there’s smoke, there’s fire and I’m so damn tired of Samson burning me.
“Stop thinking about him,” I chide myself as I rinse the conditioner from my hair. “You’re going to get a good night’s sleep and tomorrow, you won’t think about him. Not even once.”
“Think about who?” a decidedly male and agonizingly familiar voice asks.
“What in the hell!” I shout, scrambling to turn off the water.
How did he even get here? Was I that zoned out?
“You okay, Stelli Bear?” my dad asks from somewhere outside the bathroom.
“Yup.” My voice comes out shrill. “Totally good. Just saw a bug.”
He chuckles. “For someone who loves playing in the dirt, you sure do have an aversion to insects.”
I force out a laugh. “‘Night, Dad, love you.”
He murmurs a soft reply before shuffling down the stairs.
With shaking hands, I yank the towel down from where it’s draped over the curtain rod and wrap it around my shivering, wet body before tearing the curtain open. “What in God’s name are you doing in here, Samson?”
To his credit, his eyes stay on my face. “We need to talk.”
I glare at him, torn between wanting to slap his handsome face and kiss his stupid mouth. “And you thought this seemed like a good place?”
He glances down at his feet and mumbles something.
“I’m sorry, what?”
Samson swallows, and I find myself mesmerized by the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. “I said at least you can’t run away.”
“I guess I learned from the best,” I hiss. “Because last I checked, running away was your specialty.” My anger and hurt swirl together inside of me, like a living, breathing thing. “You have no right—”
“I know!” He pleads with his eyes for me to understand. “I know I don’t. But I’m asking anyway. Please, Luna.”
“Don’t call me that.” I clutch the towel tighter to my chest.
“It’s who you are to me,” he says unapologetically. “Who you’ll always be.”
I roll my eyes and swallow down the nasty reply begging to break free.
“Get dressed so we can talk.” He takes a step closer to me. “Please?”
“Get out and I will.”
He scoffs. “So you can escape? Nah, I’m good.”
Slap… I definitely want to slap him.