“Or you could just let me help. I’m already here.”
“Why are you here?” Understanding dawns. “Orion sent you. He couldn’t be bothered to help me, so he freaking sent you.”
“It’s not like that. Well. It is, kind of. He has to meet with Ben for work shit so he asked me.”
She sighs, her eyes flitting from me to the large cabinet on the curb, and back to me again. “Fine! Put it in your truck.”
I give her a mock salute as I walk around to the back of my truck to lower the tailgate. “Tell me more about this greenhouse thing, because right now, all I see is a cabinet that’s seen better days.”
She fidgets with the chain around her neck. I can’t help but follow the movement, like a hawk watching its prey.
Holy fuck. Holy. Fuck. There, clutched between her thumb and index finger is the ring I gave her.
My mind races as hope inflates inside of me like a balloon. If she hated me, she wouldn’t be wearing it in any capacity, right?
Which means… if I play my cards right, I just might stand a chance.
“It’s something I saw on a plant blog,” she murmurs, drawing my focus back to the task at hand. “It’s stupid.”
She nibbles her lower lip. “You really mean that?”
“I do.”
I can see the battle playing out across her face—she’s torn between opening up to me and telling me to fuck off.
“Ugh.” She rolls her pretty blue eyes. “It’s exactly what it sounds like—a greenhouse for plants. Or at least it will be after some TLC.” Her smile grows bigger the more she talks about it. “It will be climate controlled and everything.”
“That’s pretty cool, Luna.”
“Yeah, it’s a way to have a little piece of home away from home, you know?”
“Are you excited to live on campus?”
“I’m excited to experience life.”
My throat works as I try to swallow down all of my regrets. I went from assuming she’d experience life with me, to worrying I was holding her back. But here she is moving on like it’s nothing. And the worst part is, it’s my fucking fault.
“Anyway, I need to fix it up... tighten some screws, paint it, install the lighting, and make a distiller unit.”
“You have all the stuff you need?” I ask, hoping like hell for this to be my in.
“Not yet.”
I decide to shoot my shot. “Why don’t we drop the cabinet and your car off and then maybe I can take you to get what you need?”
“I mean...” She hesitates and I know I missed. “I was just going to order most of it online.”
“Oh. Okay.”
She gives me a small smile. “But maybe...”
“Maybe what?” I sound like an over-eager puppy, but fuck if I care. If she’s willing to give me an inch, I’m damn sure going to try and make it a mile.
“Maybe I could text you a picture of it when it’s done?”
“Luna, you can text me any damn time, for any damn thing.”
“Thanks, Samson.” She smiles brighter than the sun before inhaling a deep breath. “And maybe we could grab an early dinner. My treat, you know, to thank you.”
Hell yes, my heart hollers, doing a mental fist pump. “Sure thing, Luna, but my treat. You know if you go anywhere with me, I’m paying.”
“You’re insufferable.” She doesn’t mean it as a compliment, but I take it as one all the same. The fact that she’s agreeing to share a meal with me feels like a victory in and of itself.
I shake my head and smile. “Go on, I’ll meet you back at your place and then we can go eat. Purple Daisy?”
“Mmm, yes please.” She saunters back toward her car. “But, Samson, this doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you.”
I nod, knowing that much already. “That’s fair, but it feels like I’ve got a foot in the door.”
She rolls her eyes and pulls out her keys. “Watch it or I’ll slam the damn door on your foot.”
“Drive safe, Luna.”
“You too.”
“Where are you living now?” Stella asks, looking so damn pretty sitting shotgun in my truck, that it’s a struggle not to stare at her and hope for the best.
Eyes on the road, I scold myself for the hundredth time. “Not too far from here.”
She laughs and I tighten my grip on the wheel to keep from reaching out and touching her. “Vague much?”
“That mouth, Luna.” That mouth combined with her body and brain, she’s the full fucking package and I’m the dumbass lucky enough to bask in her light.
“Still waiting...” she singsongs.
“Got a place in the North Shore area.”
“Oh, that’s nice. You should show—” She clamps her mouth shut.
“What was that?” I’m grinning like a motherfucker, because I know she was about to ask me to show her my house. I’m half-tempted to push the issue, but she’s barely tolerating my presence as it is, so I table it for another day. The last thing I want is to piss her off… again.