by M. E. Gordon
“What are you doing here?” I asked, realizing that he even went through the trouble of getting a campus badge to walk around freely. Clearly this was not a “run-in.”
“I went by your place to check on you and...well, let’s just say after much negotiation with your door man, he told me you were at school. So what did the real non-playboy doctor have to say about your foot?”
Ha, ha, I see what he did there. I shuffled closer to the wall to get out of the way of people walking by. “Funny, Salvatore. The real doctor said it was just a bad sprain.”
“Seems my playboy doctor skills are still intact. I should start charging.”
Cocky as shit this man is. We stood there smiling at one another, until I shifted on my crutches. Damn these things make your armpits hurt.
“You all right there? Let me give you a ride home.” His blue eyes bore into me, waiting for my response.
“I guess,” I said, turning to walk out the building.
I heard him chuckle to himself then follow me to the exit. This isn’t going to be good. I should have said no. Hey, at least it beats calling a cab. I sat down in the front seat of his SUV while he took my crutches and placed them in the back.
“What? No scoffer tonight? You’re really slumming it,” I said, as he sat in the driver’s seat and turned the car on.
“I know, but sometimes I like to pretend I’m a commoner. Spice things up, throw off the paparazzi. Someone’s got to keep them on their toes. I mean, some people are just asking for it, running down the street”
“Hey, not cool,” I said, hitting his arm.
Oh my God, he has huge muscular arms. I wish I hadn’t done that. Damn it! I squeezed the tension between my legs. Calm down, Beth. He’s just a guy giving a crippled girl a ride home, and he should, because it was his fault that I was hurt in the first place.
Our laughter became silent as we both heard my phone buzz from the inside of my bag. Oh God. I looked up to see a scowl on his face rather than the jovial smile that was there only seconds before.
“Are you going to get that?” he asked, jealousy clearly in his voice.
I looked up at him and smiled. “Nope.”
This was good. After last night, we needed to talk, figure this out. This was my chance to get to know him even more.
“So do you have plans for Thanksgiving?” I asked, settling into my seat as he drove off campus and toward my home. This was the perfect question, simple, non-sexual, which was a big plus, and it was happening next week. So perfect. Go, Beth.
“I do,” he said, leaving it at that.
“Care to elaborate there, playboy?”
He looked over at me, a cocky smile in the corner of his mouth. I think I’m melting into the car. This question was not meant to be sexual!
“Playboy, huh?” he asked. I smiled over at him, nodding. “I hate to break it to you,” he said, “but I’m not a playboy.”
“Well, that’s not what the Internet says, and everything on the Internet is true, so you are. Now, you were telling me your plans for Thanksgiving.”
He ran his hand over his five o’clock shadow and I had to look at my feet to keep from swooning.
“The Internet also says that we’re in some kind of romantic modern-day fairy tale. Is that true?”
Well that back fired. Damn my smart mouth. “Umm...” I racked my brain for a fast recovery but couldn’t find any.
“I’m going home for the week to spend time with my family. I do it every year,” he said, saving me.
“That’s really nice that you can do that. Go home for a week.”
This was the way I saw this conversation going.
“Yeah, my family put up with a lot of my shit when I was younger. It’s the least I can do,” he said, glancing over to me. Do you have plans?”
“Yeah, my brothers and I go to my grandmother’s beach house and help her winterize it, and of course, we have dinner.”
“Sounds fun,” he commented.
“Not really, I mean the food is good. My Grandmother is the best cook--” Oh shit, am I really talking about food in front of him? I have completely lost my mind. It’s not safe for me to be around him. Quickly change the subject. “So your family lives, where?”
“Las Vegas, well, just outside”
We had reached the back entrance of my building, and he put the car in park, turning fully toward me, his arm resting on the steering wheel.
Leaning back against the window, I got a better look at him. “Vegas? You know, I would have pegged you for a Manhattan boy.”
“Well, I’m kind of.”
His whole demeanor changed as he said that. I watched him as he seemed to be reliving a bad memory.
“What do you mean kind of? You can’t kind of be a New Yorker.”
He refused to look at me which was weird. I didn’t get it.
“I was born there, lived there for a while, then some bad shit happened, and I moved.” His tone was even and he had no expression on his face as he spoke.
I blatantly ignored the standoffish vibe he was putting out. “What happened? You make one too many little girls go weak in the knees?”
I gave his arm a playful nudge. But quickly realized that might not have been the best idea.
“Horrible things,” he said.
He can’t leave me hanging like that. “Like what?” I asked, clearly pushing him, but he had my interest perked.
He stared straight out the front window. “Bad things, Elizabeth. Now fucking drop it, okay?” he yelled, whipping his head in my direction, almost making me pee my pants.
I had managed to push too far, which I may have had a tendency of doing when it came to Salvatore. His eyes were hard but there was obviously something else going on, pain, regret.
“Geeze, I’m sorry. You don’t have go all Dr. Jekyll on me.” If he didn’t want to talk about it, why even bring it up?
Slumping down, he ran his hands through his hair. “I just don’t talk about it. I don’t talk to anyone about my past. Congratulations. You’re one of six people that even know I lived in New York as a child.”
Sitting up, I realized that this conversation was done. I reached for the door handle to let myself out. “Well, your secret is safe with me. Thanks for the ride home.” I opened the door to get out. Suddenly remembering I had a bum ankle, I sat trying to figure out which foot to put down first.
“Hold on, I’ll help you,” he said, getting out.
Reaching into the back, he grabbed my crutches, placing them in front of me. Letting my good foot touch the ground, I took hold of the crutches and propped myself up on them. I leaned back into the car and reached down for my bag. One of the crutches lost its grip and fell out from under my arm. I frantically reached for something to hold myself up. The first thing I grabbed was Spencer’s jacket clad chest. I clawed at him, gripping the fabric as the other crutch fell from under my arm to the ground.
I swear I’m not this klutzy. It’s the bum foot and the hot guy. I can’t keep my shit together. Reacting quickly, Spencer wrapped his arms around me. I pushed back off of him but the damage was already done. Being in his embrace had my heart racing and body aching.
“Whoa, careful.” He steadied me and then retrieved my crutches again. He also grabbed my bag from the floor of the SUV. “Why don’t you just let me carry this?” I reached out trying to snatch it from him, but he was too fast. He kept teasing me like a little kid, and my patience was quickly getting away from me. “I don’t think so. I said I’d carry it,” he said.
I hate when people treat me like a child. “Please hand me my bag,” I asked him as calmly as I could.
“You can’t carry this and use those,” he said, pointing to my crutches.
Well, I definitely can’t stand when people tell me what I can and can’t do. Another reason why this will never work. We’re both too hard headed. “I’m not asking,” I said through clenched teeth.
I watched as he smiled at me then turned and wal
ked across the short distance to stand before the door. “Well, come on, stop being so damn stubborn and waddle your ass over here and take it.”
What? Did he just say waddle? I do not waddle! Pregnant woman waddle and I sure as hell am not pregnant.
“No!” I yelled over at him, crossing my arms.
“Get over here,” he growled.
“No! You come back here and give me my bag. I’m not an invalid. I did just fine earlier before you came along.” There was no way I was going to budge.
“Really?” he questioned.
“Really, I did fine all day until just then.”
Small lie, I might have tripped three or ten times, but he doesn’t know that.
“Okay, I guess I’m just going to have to come over there and really embarrass you. I have no shame. I’ll throw you over my shoulder. Because you are not carrying the bag and attempting to walk with those while I’m around.”
Shut the front door, what a jerk! “Fine!” I said, slamming the door behind me then hopping--not wobbling--my way to the door.
“See how easy that was to let me help you?”
A sly smile crept across his face as my knees went weak. Good thing I have the crutches. “Yeah, yeah, you win. Give the playboy a medal for making the cripple walk across the parking lot,” I said as I hobbled past him and into the building.
***
“Which one?” he asked, holding up my keys.
“Why, you going to make a copy?” I said snidely.
“Don’t tempt me, woman,” he said in all seriousness.
I shook my head at him and wrinkled my face, but deep down the little slut in me was hoping he would. “The silver one,” I informed him.
Unlocking the door, he held it open so I could get through. The intoxicating smell of man and expensive cologne was enough to make me move a lot slower than necessary when I passed by him.
Pivoting on my crutches, I watched him place my bag on the table next to the door and my keys on top of that. He looked torn, like he wanted to come in but was waiting for me to invite him. What is he, secretly a vampire?
“Would you like something to drink?” There, I can be polite. He did help me home.
“No I’m fine.”
Okay. I looked around the room nervously. Things were getting awkward fast.
He walked closer and took me by surprise. I found myself toe to toe with him. The familiar electricity stared to course through my body as he grazed my chin with his finger. He made me look at him, whether I wanted to or not. His hand snaked around my waist and pulled me even closer. I let the crutches fall gently as I held on to him for balance.
He looked down at me, moving a stray piece of hair behind my ear. “Why are you so perfect?”
Perfect? Me? Okay, one of two things is happening right now. One, he’s been drugged, or two, he’s been abducted by aliens. As of right now, it might be both. “Spencer, I am nowhere near perfect.”
My voice went low as I pulled back from him. All sorts of insecurities rushed to the forefront of my mind as I stared up at him, and that was when I realized for a third time tonight why we would never work.
Grabbing my wrist, he pulled me back to him. It didn’t hurt, but the passion behind it was insufferable. My knees wobbled and my mouth went dry as I watched his eyes dance over my face.
“You are beautiful, and challenging, and stubborn. You push all my buttons.”
Wow what a charmer.
“You make me angry and happy all at the same time. And this--” he said, letting go of my wrists to slide his fingers so they interlocked with mine. “Every time I touch you, I feel alive, and I haven’t felt alive since I left New York.”
New York? He said he left when he was a kid. He’s telling me he hasn’t felt anything since he was a child? I stared into his eyes, shaking my head in disbelief.
I watched in slow motion as his tongue ran over his lips, wetting them before leaning over to kiss mine. I was floating, as our lips move against one another’s. Slow and soft, his tongue brushed mine. Before I woke up from the dream I was positive I was in, I fisted my hand in the back of his hair, pulling him down closer to me, needing him more than ever before. Just as I began to truly believe that maybe I was perfect, perfect for him. That I should be with--
I heard my phone calling me from across the room. Pulling away from me, Spencer looked down at me and I couldn’t turn away from him. The ringing stopped and relief came over me, but not for long. Finally breaking eye contact with him, I glanced over at my bag. I knew it was Simon, I just had this feeling. My stomach felt sick as I retuned my gaze to Spencer. He also looked over at my bag then back at me. Dropping his hands, he clenched his jaw. The muscles hardened and I knew he was furious.
“Go,” he said, gesturing toward my bag.
I stood there frozen not sure if I should answer or let it ring.
“Go!” he yelled thunderously.
Taking a step back from me, he shoved his hands through his hair.
There’s my answer. He was pissed, but he knew I was with Simon. He knew I was someone else’s, when he started.
I was right. It was Simon. I hobbled back over in Spencer’s direction.
“I have to answer it,” I said, looking in his eyes for forgiveness.
“Oh, by all means. Don’t let me stop you.”
What an ass! He knows I have a boyfriend.
“I will be right back,” I said, before limping back to my room. Taking a breath I calmed my nerves and answered. “Hello?”
“Hey, you were starting to scare me there for a minute. Thought you might be with another guy.”
I knew he only said that to be funny, but it wasn’t. It tore at my heart. I can’t do this to him over the phone. I didn’t know when, but between the time we came into the condo and Simon called, I’d had a change of heart. I wasn’t going to keep pretending with either guy, but I also wasn’t going to tell Simon over the phone. Spencer was going to have to wait and I just had to get through until Simon came home. I had to stay neutral. No more passionate kisses or staring dreamily into Spencer’s eyes. My plan was to tell Spencer I wanted to try it with him but I needed to wait until Simon got back. The moment I got off the phone with Simon, I was running right back to Spencer’s arms.
“I was studying and had my phone on vibrate,” I said, cringing from lying so easily to him.
“Well, how did the doctor’s visit turn out,” he asked. “You never called.”
“Oh, sorry. I had to get to class. It’s fine, just sprained.”
Hearing him sigh through the phone, clearly relived that I was okay, stung pretty bad.
“I wish that I had been there to help you,” he stated.
“Yeah me, too.” Liar! my conscious yelled, calling me out.
“All right, well I don’t want to keep you too long. I know you’re studying like crazy.”
Perfect, this man was perfect. What is wrong with me? A short three minute conversation and I’m...I’m so confused. Thoughts of running to Spencer were shattered as I was drowned in guilt.
“All right. Well, I love you and I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“I love you too, bye.” I hung up quickly so I could go talk to Spencer and tell him that I wanted to try it with him, no more fighting fate. The sound of the door slamming, hit me like a hard right hook to the face as I saw that the door to my room was wide open. Spencer had heard the whole conversation, and it was then that I realized that I told Simon I loved him.
Dropping my phone, I moved as fast as I could, grimacing in pain every time my foot made contact with the floor. I got out around the hall and--
He’s gone. Curse my big mouth!
Chapter 20
Should I just ask Charles to give me Spencer’s number? Should I call him and beg for him to listen to what I have to say? How would I even explain it to him without sounding like a total whore? I had screwed up royally. Whatever chance I thought we might have had had been washed down the soap scum,
hair-filled drain that I was looking at. I didn’t want to admit it out loud, but maybe it was time to just let it go--for good. Spencer clearly had issues and I could be...well, people had let on that I could be rather stubborn. We would be a disaster together.
I needed to put it all behind me. I had a great, understanding guy. So what if he’s overseas, and not around? That doesn’t mean he wants to be away from me. I should be happy. Why am I not happy? And why can’t I get the smell of Spencer’s cologne off of my skin? I scrubbed even harder, making my arm turn red.
***
Hours turned to days and I hadn’t heard from either guy.
“Maybe I’m getting what I deserve for messing around with two guys. Opportunities like this don’t usually present themselves to me. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing.” I shoved another spoon full of soup in my mouth, but almost spit it out as the doorbell rang.
Gia dropped her utensils and looked across the table at me. “Who the hell is that?” she asked, looking at the door almost as frightened as I was.
Something was up with her, but honestly I didn’t have time to try to figure it out. I was too busy trying to keep my pounding heart from jumping out of my chest. I so badly wanted it to be Spencer on the other side of that door.
Rising from the table, I went to answer the door. I opened it slowly to see a man standing with a bouquet of long stem red roses. I took the flowers from him and slammed the door in his face. Cringing as it closed, I quickly opened it back up.
“I’m sorry for slamming the door in your face...Thank you!” I smiled as I closed the door, softly, this time.
Placing the flowers on the table, Gia grabbed the card before I could even look for it. “It’s for you,” she said, relief showing on her face.
Something’s just not right with her. I took the card from her and opened it, but it wasn’t the handwriting I was hoping for.
Elizabeth,
I’m sorry I can’t be there to make you feel better. It’s killing me that I’m not the one there to help you. I love you. Don’t forget about me.