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Chapter Two

I bent over the table and let out a long sigh as I began to wipe up the spilt ketchup that some customer had left behind. I could hear Sookie and Arlene chatting away behind me; Sookie was in a good mood because she'd spent the night at Bill's the evening before. Fuck, she didn't even know about me and Sam. What could I tell her anyway?

"Oh, me and the boss have been fucking for three weeks. Oh no, we're not together 'cause I've got some commitment issues, and he's still in love with you like the love sick puppy dog that he is, but we're definitely screwing each other five nights out of seven. We fuck and fight. That's the extent of things."

Nah, I'd pass on that conversation. Sookie had enough going on anyway, what with her gran dying and everything. I didn't want to bother her with my problems.

I gathered the plates and entered the kitchen. Now Lafayette, I had no problem burdening with my issues. He was my blood- he had to deal with my bullshit.

"Why yo' face so long, heifer?" Lafayette asked, waving a spatula in my direction as he turned around and spotted me sulking near the sink. "Aww, shit- you and Sam again, ain't it?"

"Fuck, Lafayette, I don't know what I want," I cried, throwing down the stack of plates into the sink and flinching as they clattered against each other.

"You know what you want," Lafayette said, and turned back towards the grill. "You know what you, but you afraid to admit it."

"Oh really?" I asked, feeling my temper rising. "What the fuck do I want, Lafayette? Since you seem to know more about than I know about myself."

"Damn right I know more about you," Lafayette said, turning back towards me with a raised eyebrow. "I've known your ass my whole life. I know you, Tara Thornton. And I know you want to have something serious with Sam Merlotte. But you. is. afraid. of. admitting. it." He said the last part slowly, dragging out each word and chopping his spatula through the air to emphasize.

I crossed my arms over my chest again, a nervous, defensive habit of mine. "Why should I be afraid of admitting something to Sam?" I said and chuckled at how ridiculous it sounded, even to me. Sam was the most harmless man in the world. I wasn't afraid of him.

Lafayette put a plate of food up at the counter and rang the service bell. He looked back at me with that same cocked eyebrow and put a hand on his hip. "Oh, I know you ain't afraid of Sam. But you sho' is afraid of admitting that you can be weak and that you could need someone other than yourself."

I narrowed my eyes, but the conversation came to a halt as Sookie came to the window to pick up the food. "Oh, hey, Tara," she said, completely oblivious to what she'd just interrupted. "Hey, Sam is looking for you. He's in his office." She bounced away then, her ponytail bobbing behind her, and I sighed, slamming down my hand on the counter.

"Fuck!" I yelled, and Terry Bellefleur passed through the doors, looking at me curiously. "What the fuck you looking at?" I snapped and brushed past him, trying to ignore Lafayette's loud, mocking laughter behind me.

I knocked loudly on Sam's office door, already pissed as fuck, though I had no idea what Sam wanted. "Come in Tara!" he yelled over my knocking, and I threw open the door and stormed into the room, not afraid to let him know that I was not in the mood for any bullshit today.

"Tara, close the door behind you," he sounded annoyed, and tired. Sam was rarely short with me the day after; this was unusual. I did as he asked and took a deep breath, deciding maybe I could stand to calm down a bit.

"What do you want, Sam?"

"Well, first," he said, slowly, and I could tell he was getting angry, "I'd like it if you could drop the fucking attitude, Tara."

I blinked and stared at Sam. He rarely spoke to me like this. Last night was a rare exception- then again, he was mad. What was his fucking problem today?

I decided to ask him. "What's your fucking problem today?"

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I think we need to stop seeing each other."

That was a surprise. I opened my mouth and then closed it again, unsure of what I'd say. "Why?" the word finally came out, and my voice sounded weaker than I wanted it to. Sam noticed too, and opened his eyes to look up at me.

"Well, I thought you'd be happy. You didn't want me around last night."

I sighed. "It's complicated, Sam," I said quickly, and Lafayette's words suddenly floated back into my head. I sighed again, and it was my turn to shut my eyes. "I've just got a lot of shit to sort through. You don't want to get involved with it, Sam."

The room grew quiet, and I didn't bother opening my eyes. This was the end, and even though I liked to pretend that I didn't need Sam, that it was just sex, I really did care deep down. I didn't want things to stop- no matter how fucked up it all was. Everything in my life was fucked up, anyway. At least this bit of fucked up had a little pleasure attached to it too.

I didn't hear Sam get out his seat, didn't hear him move across the room, didn't hear him breath in front of me, didn't know he was there, until I felt his hands on the side of my face, cupping my chin as he had done the night before. I opened my eyes quickly, and cursed myself in my head as I felt my deep brown eyes begin to water.

"What if I do want to get involved with it, Tara?"

"Sam," I whispered, and he shushed me by pressing his mouth against mine. His lips were hot and his breath came out in warm, ragged spurts.

His hands stayed on my face, and I felt my arms go around his chest, hugging him against me. A tear escaped my eye and rolled down my cheeks, falling onto Sam's face, and he looked at me with the most tender look I'd ever seen.

"I want to get involved with your shit, Tara. Let me."