Page 46 of Masters of Control

She’d been relieved when he’d suggested going to his place after class, a chance to save a little money. Clearly, money hadn’t been his motivating factor.

How had he wanted to sleep over in her tiny apartment when he had this to come home to?

Get out of the car. Take your hands off the steering wheel and get out of the car. You can’t just sit here.

The urge to flee swelled again.

She felt like she was in high school all over again, realizing she wouldn’t be able to afford a prom dress, much less the rest of it. Like she didn’t measure up. Like she wasn’t good enough.

Having money doesn’t make anyone better than anyone else.

Pressing her lips together, she swallowed hard, trying to ignore the churning anxiety in her stomach. She liked her little apartment. She wasn’t a teenager anymore. And if Q didn’t like her because he had more money and a better house than she did, that made him a bad person.

Which, he’d seen her place, and he hadn’t acted like it mattered to him, so it wasn’t something she needed to worry about, anyway. The only person getting in her way right now was her.

It would have been nice if his house didn’t step on so many of her deep-seated insecurities, but she shouldn’t let it chase her away. She needed to pull on her big girl panties and act like the person she wanted to be, not like the girl she’d been.

When Q’s car door opened, she made her fingers release the steering wheel and smile with a confidence she didn’t feel. Fake it ‘til you make it. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her purse and opened her door. It wasn’t as though Q didn’t know she had some money troubles. She’d told him earlier about needing the raise. Seen his face.

He hadn’t judged, but he’d wanted to help, which had been nearly as bad. He hadn’t made a big deal out of it, though, which was reassuring.

It was her turn not to make a big deal.

“It looks like a beautiful house,” she said as she walked into the garage, doing her best to keep her envy out of her voice and make it wholly a compliment.

“Thanks. I got it with an inheritance, which was what my grandfather wanted me to do with it.” He shrugged nonchalantly, taking her hand when she reached him and turning toward the door inside. “It could probably use someone who loves home improvement shows to give some suggestions on decoration and design.” His dark eyes sparkled with amusement.

Sam stuck her tongue out at him, but her heart jumped in her chest at the suggestion. Part of her really liked that idea, but she was pretty sure he was joking. She didn’t want to impose, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about decorating someone else’s house.

“You could try watching them yourself, then you’d know what you like,” she retorted, making him chuckle.

“Do you want the grand tour?”

The garage door opened into the kitchen, and Q flipped on the light. It was a very nineties kitchen and Sam’s lips twitched as she looked down at the linoleum under her feet. Not that there was anything wrong with linoleum—she’d never grown up in a house without it—but man did it make her brain start rolling with possibilities.

Q seriously had her dream house, and part of her wanted to wail about how unfair it was, but she wouldn’t. He’d probably rather have his grandfather than the house, and she wasn’t going to rub that in. Besides, she’d learned at a young age that life wasn’t fair. He was a Black man. His immediate family might not have struggled financially the way hers had, but they would have had to overcome a hell of a lot to get there, and he was still living in a world that would put him at a disadvantage purely because of his skin color.

“You’re thinking about all the things you could do to upgrade the kitchen, aren’t you?” He grinned at her, squeezing her hand, and Sam smiled back.

“I’m thinking about how damn envious I am, and wondering why you haven’t done anything to it,” she replied, shaking her head. He laughed and looked around again as though he was seeing it with new eyes.

“I’ve just gotten used to it. It functions.” He shrugged. “Which is pretty much how I feel about the whole house. Besides, I don’t know what I would do if I was going to redo it. I wasn’t entirely kidding about needing someone to help me.”

She bit her lip against offering, too worried that would be overstepping her bounds. Yeah, they had moved kind of fast into sleepovers and her being invited to his Friendsgiving, but actually helping him redesign his kitchen… that seemed like serious girlfriend territory.

Maybe down the line.

“So, am I getting the grand tour?” Getting out the kitchen would help, plus she really did want to see the rest of the house.

“Absolutely.” Q leered at her, winking. “It ends in the master bedroom.” He put a bit of emphasis on the word “master,” making a kinky pun.

Sam laughed, shaking her head at him.

Q

Showing Sam around his house was a little nerve-wracking, especially because he knew she was into the home improvement stuff. He liked his house and didn’t have any problems with it. He hadn’t thought twice before inviting her over, but now that she was actually here, he noticed a lot of little things he wished were… different. Not just in terms of cleanliness and clutter.

He wasn’t dirty, and he had someone come in once a month to deep clean, but between those deep cleanings, things had a habit of becoming cluttered. That was part of why he’d signed up for the service after his roommates had all moved out. They gave him a reason to do things—like put his laundry away instead of leaving it in piles and clearing off the various surfaces around the house of the things he set on them without thinking.