Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
I place my hand over my stomach to try and stop the feeling. I don’t want my body to react to him. Not him. Not Spencer. “You think you’re cute.” I point at him with the index finger of the hand that’s holding my glass.
He leans in close, and I pull in a deep breath as his scent—something woodsy—surrounds me. “No, but I know you are,” he replies huskily.
No. No. No. I pretend to ignore him, and I definitely ignore my body’s reaction to him being this close to me. I uncross and cross my legs, hoping to alleviate some of the tension between my thighs. “Why are you here?”
“Beautiful Charlie. How much have you had to drink? You know why we’re here.” He’s smiling at me, and I have to bite down on my cheek to keep from returning the gesture.
Once I’m composed, I glance over at him so he can see me roll my eyes. “Why are you sitting here at the bar next to me? Why are you not with the guys?”
“Honestly, you were sitting here all alone, and I didn’t like it.” He shrugs as if his reply doesn’t render me speechless.
“Charlotte!” a voice calls out. I turn to see Amara waving her hands at me. “We miss you,” she calls across the bar.
I can’t help but smile and shake my head. We’ve all decided to indulge ourselves a little tonight, and my sister’s friends are well on the path of nursing hangovers tomorrow. I wave and stand, sliding off the stool and grabbing my half-empty glass. I don’t say a word to Spencer as I walk away from him. This time it’s not because I don’t want to, but it’s because I don’t know what to say. He’s tilted the scales of our… relationship, if that’s what you want to call it, and I don’t know how to handle that. I know what to do with his barbs and his flirty one-liners, but tonight, they’re not just flirty. He’s mixed in a little sweet, and that is not something I was prepared for.
I reach the table and take the empty seat next to Amara. She leans over, giving me a one-armed hug, and then stands again, calling out for the guys to join us. Great. Just what I need. More time with Spencer. At least everyone else will be here to be our buffer.
“You feeling good, darlin’?” Ty asks, smiling at Amara.
She steps away from the table and closes the short distance between them. I watch as he stares down at her, his eyes boring into hers. She places her hands on his chest and then turns her head. She scans the bar and lands on a table of guys sitting not far from us. “Not yet, but I plan to be.” She nods toward the table and walks away from him.
I stifle a laugh when I watch as she puts a little extra sway in her hips. We all know it’s for Tyler’s benefit, and by the way his eyes follow her every move, I’d say he’s enjoying the show.
Spencer drops into the chair next to mine.
“Why are you following me?” I ask him.
“Just hanging out with friends,” he replies, sipping from his bottle of beer.
“Well, go over there.” I point to the other end of the table where Lorelei and Jasper are sitting. She looks miserable, and Jasper, well, he just looks as if the world is sitting on his shoulders.
I study them, and when Jasper holds his hand out to his wife, I hold my breath, waiting to see what Lorelei will do. Her eyes are full of what looks like pain and the love she has for him. Just when I think she’s going to deny him, she places her hand in his and allows him to help her to her feet. My eyes follow them as Jasper pulls her into his hold and wraps his arms around her.
They don’t portray the happy couple at this moment, but they're here together, and the way she grips the back of his shirt, and the possessive way he places his palm on the small of her back, it has me longing for that. For more.
Lorelei rests her head on his shoulder. Her eyes are closed, but that doesn’t stop the lone tear from sliding down her cheek. I feel her pain. We’re not close, but the emotions of the private moment between husband and wife are palpable.
Quickly, I look away, feeling guilty for intruding on their moment. “He’s been off all weekend,” Spencer says, nodding in their direction. “We’re rooming together.”
“They love each other,” I say, glancing back at the couple who are still tightly embracing on the dance floor.
“You ever been in love, Charlie?” Spencer asks.
His question floors me. This isn’t us. We don’t do this. “Nope,” I say, popping the p. I don’t want to talk about this with him. “You?” I find myself asking. Suddenly, for the first time in ten years, I’m hanging on to his every word.