No, the warmth in his gaze held so much more than that, and even without being able to see myself, I knew my eyes looked the same. A war waged inside me as I tried to think of what to do. But then, just as I was about to speak, a knock sounded at the door.
For what felt like an eternity, he didn’t move and I stayed rooted to the spot, knowing the second the moment passed it might never come again. But then the pressure and tension overwhelmed me and my mouth was moving before I could stop it.
“I-I think our food is here.”
There was no mistaking the disappointment in his eyes as he nodded and moved toward the door without another glance my way.
I’d blown it. What might have been my one chance to see if what I was feeling for Sam was real, and I’d chickened out.
Already the regret tasted bitter in my mouth.
Chapter Eight
Sam
Son of a bitch.
I’d been hungry. Starving really, but after what had felt like something…a real moment with Maggie, I was left hard and wanting and not a little confused as I moved toward the door. I knew what I wanted, and food was not it.
Saved by the bell? This had been more like cock-blocked by the knock, and I had half a mind to contact management.
I swung the door open and a smiling waiter greeted me.
“Happy New Year, sir!”
I instantly felt like a piece of shit for placing blame when it belonged squarely on me. I’d had more than one opportunity to tell Maggie how I felt and instead I tiptoed around it like a parent playing Santa on Christmas Eve.
No more.
I stepped aside and let the waiter roll the cart in, but my mind was elsewhere. The next opening I got, I was going to go for it. If she shot me down, so be it, but at least I could say that I tried. And if the way she’d looked at me earlier was any indication, I had a better chance than I’d thought.
“I have lobster macaroni and cheese, a cheeseburger with the works and fries, one chocolate pot de crème, a strawberry cheesecake, and a bottle of Prosecco. Is that correct, sir?”
I nodded and took the proffered bill, signing my name with a flourish and adding a twenty-five percent tip to the total.
“Thanks and have a great holiday,” I said, walking him to the door.
By the time I turned around, Maggie was already peeking under the silver domes, groaning at the food porn.
“You called back and got dessert and champagne?” she asked, her cheeks pink with pleasure, making the afterthought feel like a total win.
I shrugged. “It’s New Year’s. We’ve gotta have champagne.”
I moved to stand beside her and breathed in deep. The buttery, salty smell of Maggie’s food overpowered my burger and my mouth watered just thinking of the meal to come. Settling the trays on the small round table in the corner, I passed Maggie her cutlery and gestured to the cheesy dish as we took our seats.
“I’m definitely trying that,” I warned her.
She laughed. “Good, because I was planning on having half your burger anyway.”
“Deal,” I said.
She cut the bun in half then placed her portion on the plate in front of her before setting the rest in front of me.
I popped the bottle and then poured equal measures into the glass flutes between us.
“I feel like a princess. Room service and champagne. Pay-per-view.” She clinked her glass against mine. “This is the good life.”
I grinned. “Nothing but the best for my best girl.”
I swallowed hard, noticing not for the first time that Maggie’s gorgeous, trim legs were bare. It was distracting, and every time she moved I caught another flash of her creamy skin.
Forcing myself to focus on our food, I dug my fork into her mac and cheese and took a bite. The buttery succulence of the lobster exploded in my mouth, only slightly tempered by the soft, creamy cheese.
“That’s amazing.” I pointed to the plate with my fork.
Maggie took a bite, her eyes rolling back as she let out a little moan of approval. My cock twitched at the sound and the look of sheer satisfaction on her face, but I shifted in my seat and took a bite of my burger.
Even now, in spite of my decision, I couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if the food hadn’t come when it did. If that soft look in her eye would have stayed there as she crossed the room toward me.
In my mind, she’d lift her arms high as she tugged the belly-baring T-shirt over her head and let it drop to the floor. Then we would be past the point of no return, finally both ready to admit the thing I’d known for nearly eight years now.
That we were made for each other.
“You know what I don’t get?” Maggie’s voice dragged me from my thoughts and I glanced up at her.
“What?”
“You broke up with Melanie without mentioning it to me at all, but I break up with Trevor and suddenly the whole world stops.”
I blinked, focusing in on her more intently. This might take some explaining and “I never really cared about any of the girls I’ve been with since the day you and I met” seemed like a little too much right out of the gate. Instead, I popped a fry into my mouth and tried to stay nonchalant. “Well, eight years and six months are pretty different breakups.”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t like that with Yolanda. Remember, we went bar hopping and got drunk in the movie theater when you broke up with her?”
I rolled my eyes. “We were still in college. To be fair, for a while there, I thought she could be the one.”
“And why wasn’t she?”
“Other than the fact that she dumped me?” I shot back.
Maggie’s brow furrowed in confusion. “She dumped you? You always told me—”
“I know. Shit.” I let out another low oath under my breath. This wasn’t how I’d planned for things to go, but I couldn’t lie to her either. Not anymore. “Yeah, she dumped me.”
“What?” Her eyes shot wide as she held a forkful of lobster aloft. “So you don’t have a perfect ‘never been dumped’ record after all?” she demanded.
I raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “Guess not. Shame, right?”
“So why did she dump you? Did she at least give you a reason?”
I hedged. “That’s sort of why I...intentionally lied. I didn’t need you fighting her.”
“Fighting her?” A laugh burst from her lips. “Was it really that bad?”
“Depends. She said she wasn’t interested in playing second fiddle to you.”
Maggie’s fork clattered into the bowl. “Second fiddle?” She blinked, shaking her head slowly. “She didn’t play second fiddle to me. I’ve always been really respectful of your relationships.”
“Don’t feel bad, Mags. I know you’ve always been really considerate. Her problem was with me, not with you. She just thought...” I tried to find the right words. Ones that wouldn’t scare her away. But there was no other way around this. “She thought you came first for me. Over her.”
Maggie picked up her fork again, studying it like it held all the secrets of the universe. “I guess I can see leaving someone for that reason. Still, I liked her and I’m sorry she felt that way.”
I shrugged. “She wasn’t the one, Mags. She wasn’t serious enough and she was shallow.”
Maggie took a bite of her burger and groaned.
“Oh my God, that’s incredible,” she murmured, her mouth still partially full as she chewed. “Did you try that?”