A shower cleared away the last of my funk from the shots. I was content to wait for another twenty years before giving hard liquor another chance. I pulled on my pajamas and one of Sammy's sweatshirts before heading down the hall to see what the boys were doing. From the edge of the hallway, I could hear them talking and, despite feeling deceptive, I paused to listen.
"I have reservations at a steakhouse in Times Square. It has great reviews," Conner explained.
"Oh," Sammy's voice was distant.
"What?" Conner's tone dripped with thinly veiled annoyance.
"Nothing, man, it's just..." Sammy's voice drifted off.
"What? Sarah thought it was a great plan. It's one of the highest-rated restaurants in the city. I want it to be special."
"Yeah, yeah; I get it. It's just, do you think that would be special for Em? I mean, her favorite way to enjoy a steak is ground up on a bun." Sammy paused before continuing, "look, man, I'm not like the king of the ladies, and I couldn't afford to take a girl to someplace like that even if I was, so I have no idea what I'm talking about."
There was another long pause before Conner added, "yeah, well; thanks for your thoughts."
"Of course. Good luck, man. Emma deserves to be happy, and so do you."
There was a sincerity to Sammy's voice that pooled at the back of my eyes. I turned and headed back to my room to collect myself. When I returned a few minutes later, they were watching baseball in silence.
"Hey," Conner shifted over on the couch, "you want to watch some of the game with us?"
"I'm exhausted. I shouldn't do shots ever again. I think I'm going to go to bed." I gave them both a weak smile.
"You sure you're okay?" Conner asked, but his eyes were already flickering back to the game.
"Yeah, I'm fine." I smiled back before shifting to Sammy's gaze.
His eyes were wide with concern, but he remained quiet.
I laid in bed, curled into Sammy's sweatshirt. The thought of a steakhouse in Times Square filled me with dread for Monday night. I hoped we'd be able to reconnect. Instead, the noise of a popular restaurant would barely let us talk, let alone connect. I didn't even like steak. I breathed in and out heavily, trying to push out the negative thoughts.
"Are you still feeling nauseous?" Sammy's voice was so close that it made me jump.
I opened my eyes to see him placing a cup of tea on my nightstand. The bed sagged as he sat down on the edge beside me.
"Yeah, but not because of the shots," I admitted.
"Something you want to talk about?" His face was so open to me that I wanted to reach up and cup it with my hands.
"A steakhouse in Times Square," I threw myself back into the pillows in frustration.
"Oh, so you heard that?" Sammy let out a wince.
"How are we supposed to reconnect in some loud, overpriced restaurant in the most annoying part of the city? I've had a long and successful run of avoiding Times Square; it's the worst." I groaned again in frustration before meeting Sammy's gaze, "I don't even like steak!"
"That's not true. You like steak. You just like it ground-up on a bun with cheese and extra pickles." He gave me a crooked smile that was so endearing.
"Seriously, you know that. How does Conner not know that? He's supposed to be my best friend."
"Em, he's trying. He wants the night to be special. So give him a chance. Maybe he'll surprise you."
I rolled my eyes at him.
"Hey, most steakhouses have pretty decent wedge salads. You know how you like anything covered in blue cheese," Sammy gave me a poke as he spoke.
I let out a smile, "true. I bet they have a terrible ranch."
"Oh, for sure, and ketchup. Seriously, I don't want truffles in my ketchup, and I want Hidden Valley Ranch. It's good; I don't need some fancy house special anything. I swear one of these days, I'm just going to start carrying bottles of each in my pocket."
I knew the rant was to entertain me.
"Sarah would kill you."
"What can I say? I like what I like, and what I like comes in a bottle for $1.99."
I shook my head at him, "I love you."
I leaned into him but misjudged it missing his chest and landing more in his lap. I twisted so that I could use his lap as a pillow.
"I don't know how I survived while you were in California."
He brushed a tendril of hair from my face gazing down at me for a moment before changing the subject.
"Okay, so; we're going to get into Maine late on Friday night." He began as his mind worked through his plan. He knew planning always soothed me. "I'm thinking of fast food on the way. I checked the map, and I know you prefer McDonald's to BK, but hear me out. BK has the Impossible Whopper now, and I know you like that green shit. I think you should give it a try."
"I'm in," I felt the tension of my dreaded date with Conner slipping away.
"We have to remember; despite how good they look on the sign, their fries are like cardboard. So say it with me: onion rings, onion rings."
"I can't do onion rings," I protested.
"Em, it's me; I don't care if your breath smells like onions."
I looked at him sideways.
"I know you like onion rings. You'll eat them, and you'll enjoy them. I'll make sure to bring some Altoids, so you don't feel like you have to hold your breath for hours. Besides, it's not like we're going to be making out."
"Fine," I smiled. "Sometimes, I feel like you know me too well."
Sammy hesitated for a moment before shaking off the thought and continuing, "okay, then Saturday morning; Stones. Just get it out of the way. Then we could drive through the old neighborhood on the way to visit my dad and Danny."
I gave him a nod.
"I checked with Conner, and Nana is right there with Danny, so plan accordingly when we stop for flowers."
I smiled up at him as he continued through the day.
"Lunch, we stop at Hamon's. That's as good a time as any to meet up with Jacob."
Sammy spoke begrudgingly about Jacob, which caused me to let out a laugh. He smiled at me and absently ran his fingers through my hair.
"That afternoon, I thought we would hit up Bull Moose and maybe take a swing past Danny's old place if you are up for it." He smiled down at me to gauge my response, and I gave him a slight nod before he continued. "Then, dinner with your parents. Sunday before we head out, breakfast at Stones again because... why not? What do you think?"
I smiled, "it sounds like you thought of everything."
"No, seriously, this is your trip. What did I forget?"
"Nothing, it sounds perfect. Thank you for putting so much thought into this. I wouldn't even be going without you." I pulled myself up from his lap.
"Anything for you. And, in case something unexpected happens, I have a contingency plan."
"Contingency plan?" I eyed him suspiciously before reaching for my tea.
He smiled as he noticed my attire. "Is that my sweatshirt?"
"Yeah," my voice caught. I cleared it and continued, "yeah, sorry; I was cold."
"No, it's cool. It looks good on you."
"Sammy, can I ask you something and I hope it doesn't mess anything up."
Sammy looked at me reluctantly. "Sure, Em."
"The sweatshirt," I pinched at the shoulder and released, causing a puff of air to flow over my face. "It doesn't smell."
Sammy looked at me sideways.
"I mean, it doesn't smell like cigarettes or weed."
Sammy gave an exaggerated nod, "yeah, so I'm kinda trying to quit."
"Really?"
"Yeah, I mean, smoking is not great for you. And..." Sammy's voice faltered,
"I'm proud of you."
"It's only been a week or so. I'm sure I'll fuck it up a couple of times. But, it's nice with work and roommates," he poked my ribs in jest, "keeps me focused on other things."
I leaned forward, intending to kiss him on the cheek, but I missed and ended up kissing his neck as I caught myself on his shoulder. "Sorry, I meant."
"It's fine, Em. You're a klutz; I know this."
"Hey, I got you a present! I got it for you last week, but it slipped my mind." I rummaged through my nightstand drawer until I felt the crinkle of the plastic bag. I placed it on my lap and opened it to pull out the lip-gloss before handing the bag to him.
"I'm a little afraid," he admitted.
"Fair," I laughed.
He pulled out the monkey with the cardboard glasses.
"It will hold your glasses. How cute is it? Remember when I used to call you my little monkey man?"
"Yeah, was that because of my looks?"
"No, it's because you used to jump around the living room like an overactive monkey."
"I had no choice; the floor was lava." He pulled the paper glasses off and laid back on the bed so he could set the monkey on his nightstand before placing his reading glasses on it. "How do they look?"
"They look sexier on you," I smiled.
Sammy gazed at me for a moment. "Thanks. Hopefully, it will keep me from breaking them."
"Of course," I leaned back into my pillows and picked up my tea.
I gazed over at him as he stared at the ceiling. He had never really grown into his features. His ears and nose were still a little bit big for his face, and he always kept a bit of scruff. Still, there was something handsome about him. I loved how his chocolate brown eyes matched his brown hair perfectly.
"What?" Sammy awkwardly shifted when he caught my gaze.
"Nothing," I smiled at him. I took the last gulp of my tea and set the mug down. "Ready for bed?"
"Yeah," he ripped his shirt off and threw it next to the bed. My eyes flowed over his slender torso dotted with tattoos.
Sammy must have noticed. "Do they bother you?"
"No," I smiled. "Danny had many tattoos."
"I remember that. He had a moon one, right?"
"Yeah, a blue moon. That was his favorite. Blue Moon was Nana's favorite song."
"What was your favorite tattoo?"
"He had a Portland manhole cover on his chest. It was perfect because beneath it was a Teenaged Mutant Ninja Turtle. The turtle was his first tattoo that he ended up covering."
I closed my eyes for a minute and could almost feel my fingers running over Danny's chest. I hardly realized that I had let my hand start to glide over Sammy's tattoos as I curled into his chest.
"Do you have a favorite tattoo?" I murmured.
He flipped his wrist over to me. "This one; it's my dad's birthday."
I let a finger glide over the small tattoo.
"I've been thinking about getting another one for him." Sammy's voice came softly, making the moment feel intimate.
"Yeah, of what?" My hand returned to Sammy's chest as I spoke.
"It's silly."
"I'll be the judge of that." I poked his rib, breaking some of the closeness.
"I was thinking of getting SpongeBob. You know, because we watched it together." Sammy let out a tired sigh.
"I think it's a good idea," I watched as Sammy started to gaze up at the ceiling again. "Well, we should get some sleep."
"Night, Emma." As he spoke, he wrapped an arm around me, pulling me deeper into his chest.
"Night, Sammy."
I was forced to pull away to switch the light off. I settled onto my side of the bed as I hugged myself in Sammy's sweatshirt wishing it was still his arms.