archimedes |b. allen|

saltwater heart

saltwater heart

Was there a better sound than wine refilling your glass? I don't think so, I really don't.

I give Joe a beaming smile (with teeth!) as he hands me my glass back, now filled again with wine. I was on my second glass while everyone else was still nursing their first, and I knew I needed to slow down. Not that my tolerance for alcohol was low, but because I didn't want to come off a certain way. (As if basically everyone at this table wasn't a close friend.) But this was my first time having dinner at the West house as Barry's girlfriend.

Wally was due to arrive any time now, and that meant we could eat, and hopefully I could feel some of the pressure to alleviate from my shoulders. Right now, I was struggling to breathe normally because I was so anxious.

"Barry, you know what happened with Jay is not your fault, right?" Iris asks from across the table, Barry's hand that had been on my thigh, slowly rubbing his thumb back and forth across my jeans stops altogether.

He tucks his lips into his mouth to form a frown, hand sliding off my leg so he can lean forward into the table. "Well, I should've known better."

"You?" Joe asks, almost with a playful sparkle in his eye. "With Wells last year, I should've learned my lesson and dug deeper into Jay, but... I didn't."

"Joe—" Barry shakes his head, trying to get across that it's not his fault, even though we all know.

"Point being," Joe cuts him off. "Nobody saw this coming."

"I did. I hated that guy," I say, immediately taking a large gulp from my glass.

"Not helping," Barry quickly glances over at me, hand going back to my thigh and squeezing, causing me to sputter as I try to swallow back the wine.

Wally could not get here soon enough.   

I was making a damn fool of myself.

My eyes must be screaming save me, because Joe clears his throat and meets my eyes, nodding his head toward the kitchen.

"Sam," Joe grabs my attention, causing me to finally stop chugging the wine in my hand. "Could you help me out in the kitchen?"

I flash a simper to Iris and Barry before jumping up from the table to meet the detective in the next room. He needed no help with anything, I'm sure that was obvious to everyone. Everything was already set up on the table: the rolls, the salad, and the cutlery. All that was left in the kitchen was the lasagna that was finishing off in the oven.

When the door to the kitchen swings closed behind me, I find Joe's eyes on me expectantly, waiting for me to say what's got me so jazzed. In the silence, I find myself desperate to fill it. But I just don't really know the right thing to say.

"Am I making a good impression?" I blurt out, my mind barely even processing the words as they tumble from my lips.

"Sam, we've known each other for three years. I think the impression has been made," he deadpans, quirking up a brow.

"Yeah, but not like this," I blow out a sigh, putting my hands on my hips and suddenly finding it very hot in here.

Curse you, Asian flush!

But Joe just smiles to himself, nodding, before going over to the oven and peeking in at the lasagna. Still with his head facing the heat, he says, "Sam, we all like you. And just so you know, it's been like this with you two for a while now. You've both just been too dumb to see it."

Well, that doesn't give me much relief.

When he turns back to me, his eyes are sparkling with happiness and even a touch of humor. "Things are going well?"