The rest of the meal was kind of amazing. He only channeled Linx twice when he started to get stuck in his head and his cheeks began to burn. But Sam laughed at his stupid jokes, and they might still be in a world that had always tried to screw him, but right now things looked pretty damn good. They talked like they’d known each other for ages, not only a few days.
He didn’t touch the mozz sticks, but Sam kept eyeing them like she worried they might stand up and march out the door in a line.
“I think I’m gonna have one,” she said, reaching her hand to the tray. “I’m gonna do it.”
“Don’t eat ’em if you don’t like ’em.”
“That’s the problem,” she said, grimacing. “I sort of love them. Likelovethem.”
He did not expect that. Not one bit. “Then go for it. I’m pretty sure Mach didn’t lace them with vegetables.”
“You’re funny.” She went for one. Then pulled her hand back.
The crew at the pool made a shit ton of noise as the game finished and they all pulled themselves from the water.
“Incoming,” he said, as Sam went for another. Then stopped.
“You need an assist?” He snagged one, took a nibble to ensure it wasn’t too hot. Then held it to her.
He stared hyper focused on her mouth as she parted her lips and took a bite. Then the entire universe tipped a few degrees off center.
Because fucking hell… those lips. He’d know them anywhere.
Everybody knew the legend of Sami Jo. Hell, he could sing hermozzarella sticksong word for word. He had sung the song many times to himself, to Harley, but…
No.
This couldn’t be her, right? No way.
Sami Jo had disappeared, and everyone still looked for her. Not everyone, of course, but even the tabloids would sometimes still report a Sami Jo sighting.
And here was Sam with the same eye color, hair color, name… everything matched up.
Sam took the rest of the cheese stick. “It’s so good. Oh my gosh, I’ve missed these.”
Tanner opened his mouth to ask more questions. Here was the original icon of social media fame standing right in front of him and—
“Little buddy brought a girl home,” Mach announced with a ta-da motion as the rest of the crew filed in and absolutely shattered the moment.
Sam set down the rest of her mozz stick. Chewed, swallowed, and gave a jaunty wave. “Hi.” She pointed to herself. “I’m Sam.”
There was the general chaos of multiple greetings occurring all at once.
Tanner pointed out the couples: Linx and Becca, Courtney and Bax. Irina left for a curtain call in L.A., so she wasn’t there. And then there was the happily, forever-single Mach.
“Tanner, I would like to announce something,” Bax said, once the intros were through and he’d passed out beers all around.
“Is it gonna embarrass me in front of Sam?” Tanner asked, since he’d sort of prefer they didn’t do that.
“Maybe,” Linx said, pulling himself up on the counter and dangling his legs off the side.
“We’re ready to give you, Tanner Alexander Penton, your official Dimefront name,” Bax said with some seriously faux sincerity. “I’m gonna need a drumroll.” He glanced around the room.
Courtney pointed to Tanner. “You’re gonna have to go to the source, I think.”
“Tanner?” He glanced pointedly at Tanner’s hands. Then he looked to Sam and said out of the side of his mouth, “Usually, the drummer does this part, so it’s a little kink in the plan.”
Tanner did a quick beat on the counter. They might talk a big game, but this was his family and they wouldn’t do anything to make him look bad in front of Sam. He trusted them.
