She enjoyed the sense of purpose her studies gave her and loved her few hours at the preschool during the week. She eagerly soaked in everything Aisha and the other teachers told her and taught her. Because she was trying to balance her time between studying and Sam, she had reduced her time at the library and the homeless shelter. She didn’t want to give up the senior dances and the animal shelter, so she had been forced to choose which projects would get less of her time. She comforted herself with the knowledge that she would pick up the slack again after Sam left.
Her eyes strayed to where he was sharing a pizza with Spencer in the living room of Daisy’s—Lia’s—house. She found herself staring at him all the time. Because of his daily run, he had all but lost the sickbed pallor, his skin taking on the healthy golden tone of before. He was also starting to fill out his clothes better, and over the last week she had felt the difference in his body and in his strength during their lovemaking . . . Her thoughts crashed to an abrupt halt at that word.
Lovemaking?
Don’t you start using words like love in relation to Sam Brand, you idiot, she berated herself harshly.
She tore her eyes away from his handsome, laughing face and went back to unpacking the boxes Spencer and Sam had carried into the house for her earlier. Essentially, aside from her electronics, bedding, and few knickknacks here and there, the boxes contained mostly clothes, books, and framed photos.
“You should have kept your wedding presents,” Daff said as she stood with her hands on her hips, surveying the sad collection of small to medium-size boxes.
“That would have been so tacky,” Lia scoffed.
Daff scrounged through one of the boxes, squealed, and extracted a gigantic green dildo.
“Oh my God, remember this?” she asked, giggling. And Lia went scarlet.
“Put that away! Charlie’s in the backyard!” The girl was playing fetch with Toffee.
“I’ve seen her biology textbook—girl knows what a penis looks like.”
“I remember that thing,” Spencer said, his voice amused. “Someone gave it to you at your hen night. I remember telling Mason that it looks like the Hulk’s cock.”
Lia made a grab for it, but Daff held it above her head and the silicone member jiggled in her grip.
“Why do you still have this, Dahlia McGregor, you bad, bad girl?”
“Why do you still have that?” Sam repeated, before adding, “It’s not like you need it.”
“Oh my gosh, you all are irritating me so much right now,” Lia complained, and Daff chortled in glee.
“Did you keep the other stuff?” Daff pressed.
“What other stuff?” Sam asked, his voice alive with curiosity.
“Fuzzy handcuffs, right, Lia?” Daff prompted. “Crotchless panties, edible condoms, and a crapload of other stuff.”
“I didn’t,” Lia admitted uncomfortably.
“Pity,” Sam said, and she glared at him.
“If you got rid of the rest, why keep this?” Daff pressed, shaking the dildo for emphasis.
“Have you ever tried getting rid of something like that?” Lia finally asked, exasperated. “I couldn’t chuck it out at home—what if Daddy saw it in the trash can? And what if someone spotted me throwing it away in town? You know how the homeless guys always scavenge in the garbage! And they all know me from the shelter. And what trash do I throw it in anyway? Is it recyclable? In the end, it was easier to just keep it.”
“You should really stop overthinking everything, sunshine,” Sam said, his voice gentle.
“Easy for you to say, you don’t care about your reputation.”
“I do,” he corrected quietly. “I have a professional reputation to maintain. An expected image to project for the sake of my business. I care about that.”
“Of course,” Lia said, contrite. “I’m sorry. My comment was uncalled for.”
“Daff, would you mind putting that thing away?” Spencer pleaded, his eyes on the dildo in Daff’s grip. “It’s making me uncomfortable.”
“Uncomfortable?” she repeated, her eyes sparking with interest. “In what way?”
Spencer cast an awkward glance at Sam and Lia before shifting his eyes to meet Daff’s again. Whatever she saw in his gaze actually made her blush and she cleared her throat before, with a wicked grin at Spencer, giving the sex toy one last squeeze and dropping it back in the box.
Fortunately, the subject was dropped along with the dildo, and after finishing the pizza, Daff and Spencer were ready to leave. They called Charlie and offered Sam a lift home.
“I think I’ll stay a little longer. I’m sure Lia wouldn’t mind giving me a ride home in exchange for my help.” Daff glanced at Charlie, and Lia knew the girl was the only reason her sister refrained from calling BS on his words. Daff was a straight shooter and liked to call a spade a spade. She settled for rolling her eyes to let him know exactly what she thought of his words.