Dirty Little Secret

“Yeah, yeah. You’re extra loveable. Everyone loves Samson Carter.”

“Only one who really matters though.”

“And who might that be?” Stella asks, fluttering her lashes.

“I think we both know it’s you.”

“Yeah.” She scoots closer to me. “But I like to hear you say it.”

“Then you’ll love this.” I lean down and swipe my tongue over her bottom lip.

She moans lightly, her tongue tangling with mine as her hands explore my chest.

Reaching around, I palm her ass with one hand while the other slips beneath the hem of her sweater.

“Stella,” I groan her name, reluctantly breaking our kiss.

“What?” she asks, her lips still seeking mine.

“This is my first time in your room.”

“Mmm.” She nips at my lower lip. “And?”

“Your mom,” I blurt, immediately feeling like a moron.

“Are you seriously mentioning my mom while your hard-on is digging into my thigh?”

My dick deflates. “Well, you took care of that problem, huh?”

Stella giggles. “I’ll make it up to you tonight.”

“I’ll hold you to that, but for now, your mom needs help in the kitchen.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

Stella

After dinner, we're all gathered in the living room with Mom and Dad's wedding video playing on the TV.

It's weird, seeing them both so young and carefree. It’s weird to think of them as young period. But the fact that they’re just as in love now as they were then makes me feel… hopeful.

Like maybe one day, that will be Samson and me—but with a better dress.

Visions of me in white fill my brain, to the point that I hardly notice my phone ringing.

“You gonna get that?” Samson asks.

“Huh?”

“Your phone, Luna.”

“Oh!” I slide the still-ringing device from my back pocket and check the screen. Why is he calling me?

I drag my finger across the screen to answer the call. “Hey, Sterling?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

Wriggling out of Samson’s hold, I stand from the couch and pad into the kitchen for a little privacy.

“What’s going on?” I ask, pacing the length of the island.

“Listen, have you gotten any weird texts tonight?”

“Yeah.” My mind flashes back to the message I received during dinner… a random link from an unknown number—that’s gonna be a nope. “How did you know?”

Samson creeps up behind me and wraps me in his arms. “Are you okay?”

I shrug and step out of his hold.

“Put it on speaker.”

Nodding, I pull the phone away from my face and tap the speaker button.

“Did you look at it?” Sterling asks, his voice tight.

“No.” I shake my head, even though he can’t see me. “It came during dinner, and Mom hates phones at the table. Plus, I typically ignore unfamiliar numbers.”

“Okay, good.” The relief in his voice only serves to amp up my worry. Shit has to have hit the fan for him to be calling me.

“You’re freaking me out.”

Samson pulls me into him again; this time, I accept the comfort he’s offering. Something tells me whatever Sterling’s about to say isn’t going to be good.

“There was an accident,” he says.

“What kind of accident?” I curse myself silently when my voice shakes.

“Emmalyn overdosed.” And just like that, with those two small words, I shatter.

She seemed totally fine when we talked earlier. I don’t… I don’t understand.

I look up to Samson, with tears running unchecked down my cheeks, hoping like hell he can somehow make this make sense.

“What?” My knees buckle, and if it wasn’t for Samson supporting my weight, I know I would have hit the floor. “Wait, what?”

“We don’t know anything yet.” Sterling sounds tired… defeated even. “We’re at Central North.”

“I’m on my way,” I tell him, ending the call before he can say something stupid like to stay put.

Samson slides my phone out of my grasp and tucks it into my back pocket before pressing his truck keys into my hands. “Go start the truck. I’ll let your parents know we have to go, okay?”

I nod, words completely escaping me.

“I’ll be right there, Luna.”

“Have you heard from the doctor?” I ask, blazing a path through the waiting room with Samson hot on my heels.

“Not yet,” Gabe says, offering Samson a small head nod.

Samson settles into the vacant seat beside Zach, but I’m too worried about Emmy to sit. I can’t help but think if I’d have been with her tonight, that maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

Four sets of weary eyes track me as I pace, until finally, Samson reaches out and pulls me down onto his lap.

“Let me up!” I twist my shoulders back and forth, trying to break his hold.

“Sit down, Luna.” His voice is nothing more than a growl, but I know he’s not mad at me—he’s worried.

But I am too, dammit. “So help me God, if you don't let me up right now—!"

Samson holds me even tighter, pressing his face into the crook of my neck. “You’ll what?”

I don’t get a chance to reply though, because a doctor pushes through the double doors and turns toward us. “Are you the family of Emmalyn Price?”