Every cell in me dissolves into a shaking mess as my brain fights to reconcile the intimacy of just picking someone up and carting theminto your bedroom. He called herNesearlier. Game knowledge implies that Samson isn’t close with anyone because he barely leaves his farm…but…maybe that’s a flawed assumption in thisreal-worldsetting?
After all, he speaks highly of even Austin.
He threatened me because of how deeply he cares about his home and all the people in it.
With my heart beating a thunder in my skull, I can’t make out a single word of the conversation happening behind a closed bedroom door.
I haven’t even had the privilege of seeing Samson’s bedroom yet.
Sure, I’ve seen the pixels…but seeing it for real is different.
Also, in game, you’re only allowed into people’s bedrooms once you attain a certain level of relationship heart events with them. I was hoping that maybe I could use being allowed entry as a gauge for how many hearts Samson and I have.
You know.
Since my stupid book has him riddled with question marks.
Ines and Samson exit his bedroom while I’m still struggling to consolidate the situation.
Samson nudges Ines forward a step, and she huffs, rolling her eyes, “I apologize for my behavior. It was insensitive of me to tease you in such a way while your current options for places to sleep involve a disease-ridden farmhouse or Samson’s spare room. I in no way meant to convey that Samson would have any impure or uncomfortable thoughts concerning you, nor that you should have to think about him in such a scandalous context. Please forgive me.”
I’m not smiling.
I’m not crying.
But, on the inside, I am the smiling emoji with a single tear.
“Oh,” I whisper, “I…appreciate the clarification.”
Ines continues her drawl, “It’s very important to Samson that you feel safe.”
My throat closes, and I glance at Samson. “I-I do. Promise.”
Samson nods, affirmative, and grumbles, “Good. I’m going to see if I can’t make some progress next door, Lemonade. Get whatever you think you need and know it’s covered.Please. We take care of each other here. Okay?”
Wetting my lips, I swallow the tightness in my throat. “Okay.”
He leaves after another nod, and Ines plops herself back down beside me with a sigh, letting her book open to a page of wedding dresses when she sets it in her lap. “You know something?” she murmurs, thumbing through the gowns affectionately.
“Hm?” I murmur, fighting to regulate my nervous system, and failing miserably.
She traces the billowing skirt of a wedding gown. “Samson begs nice, too.” Her lips curl, devious. “Lucky you.”
Chapter 15
♥♥♥
Just a normal day in the mines.
“And so that’s about point two percent of why I absolutely hate Florida,” I state, knowing full-well I have been rambling about nothing to fill the quiet darkness of the mines for, oh, maybe twelve minutes? Possibly seventeen hours?
Who can really say for absolute certain, right?
The privilege of being in my freshly-cleaned khaki dress has done a number on my inhibitions. Not existing beneath a thin layer of grime is almosttoogood for morale, leaving me sorely yappy.
Seemingly unbothered, Samson watches me stab a slime straight through and arches a brow, looking between the now-helpless-puddle and me. “I’m sorry. Why would finding a snake in your room inconvenience…you?”
Did hemissmy eighty-seven paragraph essay about thecicadas? Or thealligators? Thecockroaches??
