𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄

[𝟑𝟑] 𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭

two weeks later

Sam parks our rental car on the side of the road by my house. I turn towards the window to look at where I grew up. It hasn't been that long since I've been home, but I must admit that since dad started going through his midlife crisis, the house has changed.

The front door is painted a crimson color as opposed to the plain brown color that it was painted just five months ago. The grass is freshly cut and even a tree has been planted on the side of the driveway.

"The tree looks nice," Sam says, pointing to the same little sapling of a tree I'm looking at. I look at him, shaking my head, and attempting to hold in a laugh the best I can.

"My dad's going to kill it, Sam."

He snorts, shaking his head and patting my thigh. He pushes open his door, shutting it and rounding the car to open mine. He leans down to offer me a kiss and I capture his lips with mine. He then offers me his hand to help me out of the car and I accept it, standing up and grabbing my purse.

Sam takes my purse from me, though, slinging it over his broad shoulder. I laugh loudly shoving him.

"Sam, I can hold it!" I reach for my purse but he shoves me back playfully, running for the front door.

"No, you can't, you're injured!" He yells from his place next to the front door, his arm extended out as his fist meets the door with a knock.

"Yeah, mentally, not physically, dumbass," I grumble, shoving him out of the way so I can knock. He places my purse down on the porch swing, slipping his arms around my waist and pulling me close.

He gazes down at me with a silly grin and this unmistakable adoration in his eyes. "I love you, my Gracie."

My heart seems to speed up at this. I scrunch up my nose, wrapping my arms around his waist loosely. "That's new. Who came up with that one?"

He pouts, leaning down to plant another kiss on my lips. "Me, of course. My content is all-original, Mrs. Winters."

I'll actually cry if he doesn't stop.

"That also appears to be a new development," I note.

"Well, you know what they say. Practice makes perfect." He grins, pressing another kiss on my lips, this one softer and somehow, more meaning than the last. I poke the lone dimple on his cheek, peeling his arms off of me as I fish through my purse-- that still remains in his possession-- for my key to the house.

My bet is that nobody's home, which if I look at it the right way, is a good thing. It would mean that Sam and I could have some us time. Not that we need it, though.

Well, perhaps I do, seeing as I live with multiple people.

That thought had my mind wandering to the fact that, soon, my house would be empty. Easton and Annie are moving out together, soon. And before them, Ray. Thinking about it now, I'm going to need new roommates.

While, yes, I prefer being alone, being alone in a house as a young woman is frightening. What if I get fucking robbed or abducted? Living alone would only cause my naturally uneasy mind to lose its balance. I'd go crazy.

"I fucking hate this key!" I decide, shoving it back into my purse and pounding on my dad's door one more time. Sam laughs at me, shaking his head.

"Baby, the doorknob is new, the key is ancient. What does that tell us?"

That's like asking me what two plus two is. It's always a trick question.

I feel myself shrink in my spot as I cross my arms. "Twenty-two," I murmur.

He narrows his eyes at me, taking my chin between his thumb and index finger. His eyes scan my face before the back of his palm meets my forehead. I swat his hand away, frowning.

"Stop it, I'm not sick."

"You're acting like it."

I hit him a few times only to pause my assault against my boyfriend by the sound of the door creaking open. I look up to meet the eyes of the one person I didn't expect to see.