Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 156029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
I giggle against my wineglass and watch on as he pours the food into the three saucepans.
“Have you thought about where you are going to live when you move to London?” he asks.
I shrug. “Not really. I guess I’ll have to start thinking soon, though.” I watch him for a moment. “What are your thoughts?”
He continues stirring. “I have a few.” He sips his wine. “The Spencer Jones in me wants you to get your own kickass apartment and decorate it however you want. To have your own things and come and go as you please.”
I smile and wait for him to go on.
“He wants you to gain your independence and live life without the restraints from your family.” He thinks for a moment. “I mean you should. That’s what you should do. That’s the smart thing to do.”
It’s clear he has something else on his mind, though. “And what do you want?” I ask.
His eyes find mine.
“That’s what Spencer Jones wants me to do,” I say. “What do you want me to do?” I ask. “The selfish little boy inside of you… what does he want?”
“Well…….” He pauses, his eyes hold mine as he decides whether to share. “The selfish little boy in me can’t stand the thought of spending even one night without you, and he wants you to move in here.”
15
Charlotte
What?
“I mean…” He shrugs as if embarrassed by my shocked reaction. “That’s only if you wanted to, and I’d completely understand if you didn’t.” He’s speaking way too fast, tripping over his words as he tries to recover.
I smile and remain silent as I watch him.
He continues to stir the pot, shaking his head as he thinks. “That was…” His voice trails off. “That was a bad idea, forget I said anything.”
“Spence?”
He keeps stirring with his head down, unable to look at me.
I get off the stool and walk around in front of him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Spence?”
His eyes meet mine.
“Why don’t we just see how we go?”
A frown creases his forehead. “What does that mean?”
“It means that we’ve been together for five minutes, and I think that maybe we should stop moving so fast.”
“You don’t like the way things are going?”
I kiss him softly. “I love the way things are going, but this isn’t a race.”
He holds me tight. “It feels like it is.”
I pull back to look at his face. “Why?”
He shrugs. “I’m waiting for the shoe to drop and everything to turn to shit.”
“Spence,” I breathe. “It’s not going to.”
“This is new for me, angel. All this.” He shrugs. “Feeling...”
I giggle. “You think this is new for you? Try being me for a moment. I’m getting used to having sex, falling in love, as well as an ex-girlfriend of yours who is slipping keys into your pocket.”
He smirks and pulls out of my arms. “Oh, I saw her today.”
My face falls. “You saw her today?”
“Yeah.” He goes back to stirring his pot of Indian food, choosing not to elaborate.
“And?” I frown.
“Long story.”
“I’ve got time.”
He dishes out our meals and places them on the counter in front of us. He refills our wineglasses, too, leaving me to just… watch him.
He sits down and begins to eat, as if he hasn’t a care in the world.
“Spencer! Are you going to tell me what happened or not?”
He blows out a deep breath. “It was the day from Hell.”
“Why are you always so dramatic?”
He chuckles. “No, seriously, today was a day from Hell.” He shovels some food into his mouth. “Like… literally.”
I take a mouthful of food for myself. “Why?”
“So, Sheridan turns up and tells me she loves me.”
My mouth falls open in surprise.
Don’t say anything, don’t say anything.
“She wants to move here and make a go of it with me.”
“I thought you said you were just having sex?”
He shrugs. “I thought we were, too. I was bowled over.”
“Well, what did you say to that?”
“I said no, that we were never like that.” He chews his food casually, as if he has this conversation every day.
“And you’ve told her you’re with me?” I ask. Damn this sneaky bitch.
“She knows I’m in love with you. I told her.”
“You told her that you love me. In those words?”
“I think it was in those words.” He shrugs. “Anyway, she knows.”
“How come you tell her you love me, but you don’t tell me you love me?” I ask.
He looks at me, deadpan. “Really? That’s all you got out of that sentence?”
I raise my eyebrows. Hmm, his snarky attitude is pissing me off tonight.
“Anyway, so I’m dealing with her crying and shit.”
“How were you dealing with her?” I frown. “Define dealing with her.”
He rolls his eyes. “I was hugging her.”
I get an image of them in a passionate embrace while he comforts her. “Did you kiss her?”
“No, I did not kiss her. Will you let me tell the fucking story?”