Friend Zoned (Barnett Bulldogs #2) (5 page)

Just when I’m about to delve in for more details, he pulls up to the curb in front of my grandparent’s large Victorian.  When I was a kid, I used to think it resembled a gingerbread house with all its cerulean blue wood siding and lacy white trim that looked like piped icing around the eves. Deep purple wooden steps lead the way to an inviting beveled glass front door.  A gleaming white swing hangs from the covered porch.  A round turret flanks the left side of the house, spearing up into the sky.  It has a comfy window seat with soft pillows piled on top of it.  I would curl up there on stormy afternoons or when I just needed time alone.  It was the perfect little reading nook.  Even though I came here under terrible circumstances, I have nothing but happy memories of living in this house with my grandparents.

They are the absolute best and I’m lucky to have them in my life.  I’m grateful they were there for me when I needed them.  It’s one of the reasons I decided to stay and attend Barnett.  I even offered to live at home and commute to and from school, but they both encouraged me to move onto campus and spread my wings.

I don’t realize that Sam is still holding my fingers until he gives them a gentle squeeze.  The movement has my eyes arrowing to his.  “Ready?”

“Yep.”  Hoisting my lips, I give him a small smile.  Even though I still have the feeling there’s something on Sam’s mind that he’s not sharing with me, I decide to put it on the backburner for the time being.  Instead, the two of us jog up the front porch stairs and without knocking, I simply throw the door open like I’ve done a thousand times before.

“Hello?” I call out loudly, “Gran?  Gramps?”

Sam leans towards me before murmuring just loud enough for me to hear, “You did tell them what time we were stopping by, right?”  He waits a beat, his voice dropping even further, “Because I seriously can’t deal with walking in on them getting it on
again
.”

Elbowing him, I snort.  “I thought we agreed never to mention that particular incident again.  Do you have any idea just how psychologically scarring that experience was for me?”

His eyebrows shoot up, very nearly hitting the ceiling in response.  “Ummm, yeah, I do because I was subjected to it as well.  In fact, it still haunts me to this very day.”  He shakes his head as if trying to somehow dislodge it.

Yeah, good luck with that, buddy...

I roll my eyes trying to put a positive spin on what should never have been heard in the first place.  “At least they’re still active and in love.”  This time, I give him a poke in those rock solid abs of his.  They’re bounce-a-quarter-off-them tight.  “You should be so lucky to be having hot sex when you’re in your seventies.”

Okay… so maybe those words are crossing a line.

By like a mile.

Sam winces before muttering, “Jesus Christ, Vi!  You saying that is almost as bad as hearing them go at it.”

Just as those words leave his lips, my grandmother’s delighted voice fills the air as she breezes through the hallway leading from the kitchen to the large foyer we’re still idling in.  “Violet and Sam, you’re here!”

Sam’s straightens to his full height as I give her a cheerful smile.  “Hi, gran!”

Looking pleased to see the pair of us, she envelopes my body in her thin but strong arms before giving me a little squeeze.  I can’t help but close my eyes, allowing my body to sink into her embrace.

This feeling right here…

It’s exactly what home feels like.  After everything happened with my parents, gran was always there with a warm hug and kind words of comfort.  It was together we got through our shared grief.

Finally pulling away, I glance around the spacious foyer and living room that is to the left of us.  It’s filled with delicate furniture and priceless antiques that have been collected over a lifetime.  Most mornings you can find my grandfather sitting in there, enjoying a cup of coffee while perusing the newspaper.  Even though he’s quite adept at tooling around on the internet, he prefers reading physical paper copies.  He likes the feel of it in his hands.  One still gets delivered to the house every single morning around six.  When I don’t immediately see him sitting in there, a little niggle of worry blooms in the pit of my belly.  “Where’s gramps?”

Despite her lips tipping up at the corners, I still catch the concern that flickers in her soft hazel eyes before disappearing.  “Oh, he’s just upstairs resting a bit.”  Before I can fire off any more questions, she turns toward Sam, enveloping him in her arms.  And just like that, a smile tugs at the edges of my lips as I watch huge hulking Sam get wrapped up in my grandmother’s delicate embrace.

Something unexpectedly warm fills my heart as I continue watching the pair of them.  Sam has known my grandparents his entire life.  He thinks of them as his very own.  He’d probably still stop by and check in on them even if I weren’t in the picture.

I can’t help but love him for that.  Not all twenty-two year old college dudes would give a rat’s ass about the wellbeing of their elderly neighbors.  But Sam does.  In high school, he would cut their lawn in the summer, rake their leaves in the autumn, and shovel snow from their walkway after each winter storm.

Pulling away, my grandmother loops her arm through Sam’s muscular one before turning back towards me.  “I’m so glad you two were able to find some time to stop by.  The toilet in the upstairs bathroom is leaking and Edward just hasn’t felt up to taking a look at it.”  She beams another smile Sam’s way.

My brows slide together at the reminder.  I don’t like thinking about anything being seriously wrong with either one of them.  As much as I hate to admit it, they’ve both slowed down over the years.  Even though I knew it was bound to happen, it’s still hard to accept.

And this is a big rambling hundred year old home in need of constant repairs, upkeep, and maintenance.  Sometimes I worry that it’s too much for them to handle on their own.  My grandfather is seventy-five and my grandmother is closing in on seventy-two.  But I just can’t see them sitting around, languishing in a senior citizen home either.  Unfortunately I know it’s an issue that will have to be dealt with in the not so distant future.

“Is gramps okay?”  I hate the way my heart skitters as I give voice to my concerns.  Over the past couple of years, he’s suffered from a few heart issues.  I honestly don’t know what my grandmother or I would do without him.  It’s been the three of us for so long now.  The thought of him not being around has my belly tightening into a thick knot of apprehension.

A small forced smile curves her lips as she shakes her head.  “Just feeling a bit under the weather.  Nothing to be concerned about.”  She gives Sam’s bulging forearm a little pat.  “Otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered you with this.”

“It’s no problem, Mrs. Winterfield.  I don’t mind helping out.”

Again she shoots him a grateful smile before reaching up to pat his cheek.  “I know that, Samuel.  You’re such a dear boy.  You always have been.”  Her eyes impale mine before she adds somewhat coyly, “One of these days you’re going to make some woman very happy.”

Right.

Forget what I said about coy.  There’s absolutely nothing sly about her words or the calculating look she’s aiming in my direction.  I almost roll my eyes because what she really means to say without actually saying it in so many words is that
I
should nab Sam before some other lucky lady snaps him up.

Have I mentioned that my grandmother fancies herself a matchmaker and is constantly trying to nudge me in Sam’s direction?  It used to annoy the hell out of me when I was in high school, but it doesn’t really bother me anymore.  It’s more of a running joke between the three of us.

Although, as my eyes once again fall on Sam, I think she just might be right about that.  He probably will make some woman very happy.  A tiny little prick of displeasure slides through me at the notion before I quickly shrug it away.

Sam’s bright blue eyes stay locked on mine.  Barely can he contain the smile that is simmering around the edges of his lips as he says, “Oh, I don’t know about that, Mrs. Winterfield.  Can’t seem to find a woman willing to put up with me.”

Rather disbelievingly she squeezes his arm again.  I’m starting to think she might be enjoying herself a little too much over there.  Which I can’t exactly blame her for.  Sam has muscles on top of more muscles.  His whole body is solid and defined.  Even his forearms.  “Well, I have a hard time believing that!  You’re such a handsome boy and smart, too.”

Again she eyes me as if I’m too stupid to realize what I’m missing out on.  Unconsciously my gaze slides back to Sam before settling on those smirking lips of his.  That kiss, the one I keep insisting was completely insignificant, forces its way back into the forefront of my thoughts.

A little shiver skitters its way down my spine as I remember what it felt like to have his warm lips sliding over mine…

My entire body stiffens as that image plays back in slow-mo.

What the hell am I doing?

Yanking my eyes from his, I shove that thought away before clearing my throat uncomfortably. “I guess Sam should probably get to it, huh?”

A satisfied smile settles over my grandmother’s lips before she adds, “The tools should already be up there, dear.”

“Alright then, I’ll go up and take a look at what’s going on.  Hopefully it’ll be an easy fix.”  Brows drawn together, his eyes slowly shift between the pair of us as if just realizing that he’s been left out of some private joke.  “After that, I need to stop and say hello to my parents.”

We both nod before Sam’s big body disappears up the curving staircase.  We hear his heavy footfalls above us until he makes his way to the bathroom.  Once he’s gone, my grandmother turns to me with a contented smile.

“It’s so hard to believe that Sam is still single.”  And just in case I hadn’t already gotten the hint, she adds, “A good looking boy like that.  So handsome and strapping.”

I can’t help the gurgle of laughter that escapes as I repeat, “
Strapping
?”

Her narrow face crinkles with humor.  “Back in my day, we used the word
strapping
to describe muscular men.”

Well, I certainly can’t disagree with her assessment on that one.  Sam is most definitely…
strapping
. 

Lowering her voice, she continues with our previous conversation, “It’s just so surprising that you two have never gotten together.  He’s the kind of man who would treat a woman right.”

I roll my eyes.

Here we go again…

Cue the
Sam is the best guy in the whole wide world
spiel.

And hey, it’s not like I’m disagreeing with her.  But there are only so many times I can hear it.

“Gran…” I practically groan.

I’ve lost count exactly how many times we’ve had this particular conversation.  I think it must be somewhere around a million.  Needless to say, my grandmother adores Sam Harper. Actually,
adores
probably isn’t a strong enough word.  And I can’t deny that she’s probably right in her prediction.  Sam would treat any woman he was with like a princess.  He’s just so sweet and caring.  There’s absolutely nothing douchy about the guy.  Which admittedly is a rare find on any college campus these days.

Knocking me out of my sudden reverie, she waves a hand in front of my face.  “Oh, don’t deny an old woman her pleasure.  One of these days you’re going to open your eyes and see what’s been sitting right in front of you the entire time.”  Not waiting for a reply, which is good because I don’t exactly have one, she hooks her arm through mine before patting my hand affectionately. “You mark my words, Violet, some girl is going to snag his interest one of these days and will thank her lucky stars that she did.”

Ignoring everything she just said, I snort with all the derision I can muster before muttering under my breath, “Old woman, my ass.”

Not bothering to chastise me for my language, she simply chuckles.  “Let’s go make some lunch for when that strapping young man of yours is finished fixing the toilet.”

I give her a big dramatic sigh before following her into the warm sunny kitchen.

Thirty minutes later, the four of us are sitting around my grandparent’s small round table enjoying the BLT’s she just whipped up because they’re Sam’s absolute favorite. Extra mayo, heavy on the lettuce, one thick slice of tomato, and bread lightly toasted- just the way he likes it. He must have really worked up an appetite fixing that leaky pipe, because Sam has already wolfed down two sandwiches and is starting to devour a third. And we just sat down not more than ten minutes ago.  Naturally my grandmother continues fussing over him the entire time.

Turning my attention to my grandfather, I can’t help but notice that he looks tired.  Maybe even a little pale. And nowhere near as animated as he usually is.  Seeing him like this has concern once again flaring to life within me.  “How are you feeling, gramps?”

His face creases with soft wrinkles as he flashes me a smile.  “Just trying to shake this bug I’ve picked up.  Other than that, right as rain.”  He takes a small bite of his his sandwich before chewing it rather methodically.  When he’s finally finished, he asks, “And how’s my favorite girl doing?  Classes going well?”

I tear off a hunk of sandwich before popping it into my mouth and nodding.  “Everything’s fine. Classes are good.”