I talked to my parents about them. I didn’t have to wonder if my parents would like Spencer because once you knew him, it was nearly impossible not to get drawn into his orbit. He was serious, but that made the time when he let his wit slip out even more memorable. He was thoughtful and slightly eccentric, but for some reason, it made him more adorable. I was trying not to fall into his trap, even though I suspected I had already slipped.
He made it impossible to push away when everything he did lately drew me in. His touches, his looks, the feel of his hand snaking up the back of my thigh. It was innocent, it always was with him, and I was trying hard not to read too much into it, not to get too hopeful because I knew he could have any woman in the city. With a snap of his fingers, and they would be there. There was no logical explanation for him to choose me, but my slow descent from friend zone to lust had me confused.
I visited my parents an hour longer than usual. The peace and companionship tethering me down, even knowing that soon, at some point, I would have to face reality again. I would have to step outside the gates of the cemetery and absorb the results of my latest release, either good or bad. Whatever was thrown at me, I had to accept it.
Once home, I found my favorite chair, my blanket, and a carton of ice cream. I sat there, refusing to turn on my computer. I knew that once it was on, I would have to face reality. I wasn’t there long, just long enough to know that finishing this carton would be a bad decision, before there was a knock on the door. I didn’t bother getting up, it would be one of two people, and if it were Spencer, he wouldn’t be knocking.
“It’s open Raylee,” I called to the door.
Raylee barged through the door, her gym bag slung over her shoulder, and her designer work-out attire molded perfectly to her body. I looked from her to my carton of ice cream and tried not to let the nauseous feeling keep me from my pity party.
“Get up, put the ice cream away, and let’s go. It’s yoga time. We will get fatty foods after.” She stood staring at me, with her hands on her hips, and I swear if it were anyone else, I’d feel judged. But, despite her rocking body, Raylee was just as bad as I was, so she had no room to judge.
“Did I volunteer for yoga today? I can’t seem to recall that conversation.” I glared at her as I shoved another spoonful into my mouth.
She walked toward me, snatching my spoon from my hand, then went to the kitchen where I heard the metal clink into the sink. She reappeared in front of me, “No, you lazy sloth, you didn’t volunteer. But, you’re going. Now hurry up, we’re going to be late.”
She tapped her foot impatiently, loud enough to annoy me into moving. I put the rest of the ice cream in the freezer, promising to return to it the moment I got back home, then I slowly moved to change, grabbed my gym bag, and found my house keys.
We were five minutes late to class, which didn’t really matter because we were the world’s worst students anyway. Missing a stretch or two wouldn’t make a difference at this point. Raylee only made me go so that she could consume a large amount of food without feeling the extra guilt.
The class was long; longer than I anticipated, but that was probably because I was counting the minutes until I’d be back home, consuming way too many frozen treats. When the instructor finally released us, I was hot, sticky, tired, and way more disgruntled than I should have been considering exercise was supposed to release happy endorphins. I was miserable, and although Raylee tried to cheer me up, some moods were meant to be left alone.
As we rolled up our mats and packed away our towels, Raylee promised me that dinner was on her, and I wasn’t going to object. A free meal would lighten anyone’s day, and I knew as the day came to a close, I was going to have to face the inevitable. I was going to have to open my laptop, read the reviews, and acknowledge either my failure or success. I was going to have to confront reality.
Not yet, though. I wasn’t a hundred percent ready for this. I never truly was. Instead, we went for pizza, devouring the piping hot cheesy goodness. I was quite literally eating away my feelings. Then, when my stomach was full, feeling heavy and bloated, we made a slow trek back to my apartment, where Raylee tossed her yoga bag on the floor and fell onto my couch unceremoniously.
“I’m so full,” she ground out while rubbing her stomach.
“You had like three-fourths of a large pizza, I would imagine you would be.” I toed off my shoes, wiggling my toes around the moment they were free.
“Well, I didn’t have an ice cream snack before going to yoga.” She stretched her arms above her head, yawning. “I was starving.”
“Who are you trying to fool? Even if you did have ice cream before, you would have still eaten that much.” I leaned my hip onto the arm of the couch, close to her feet, not really sitting, but not fully standing either.
She let her breath come out in a satisfied sigh. “You’re right. I would have. Do you want me to move my feet so you can sit?”
I thought about it for a moment, debating if I wanted to hang around my apartment, knowing that I would cave to the temptation. I would check the reviews, I would feel the disappointment and inadequacy that comes with the one negative among the sea of positives.
“I think I’m going to go up to the roof for some air for a while.”
Raylee started to sit up, “I’ll go with you.”
“No, I’ve got it. You can relax here. I’ll see you in a bit if you’re still here when I come back down.”
She eyed me questioningly, “Are you positive? You sure you want to be alone?”
I nodded my head in agreement even though I wasn’t a hundred percent sure I really wanted to be. “Positive.”
“Well, if you need me, I’ll be here I guess.” She plopped her body back down on the couch.
“You always are,” I stated as I slipped on a pair of sandals and exited my apartment, shutting the door behind me.
Chapter Twenty-Two
SPENCER
She didn’t know it, but I saw her at the gym. I had made it a point to peek through the window of the yoga class, searching for her even though I knew she’s rarely there anymore. Seeing her bent in an impossible pretzel, well, attempting to bend in one anyway, caused a smile to take over my normal frown. She was so damn beautiful. At times my breath would get trapped in my chest with just glimpses of her, but I doubted she knew.
I made it out of the gym by exactly six o’clock, eager to get home and tease her about rekindling her love for exercise. Opening my apartment door, I tossed my gym bag into the entryway before heading directly to her door, knocking once, then turning the knob and pushing it open.
Raylee was lying on her back on Mari’s couch, her eyes drooping as if I woke her. “What are you doing sleeping on her couch and where did you hide her?” I asked after I determined she wasn’t there.
“I’m babysitting my best friend, obviously.” I didn’t physically see her eye roll, but I was pretty sure it happened mentally.
“Well, you’re a crap babysitter because she is missing,” I informed her, doing another quick walkthrough just to make sure.
“Calm down, she’s on the roof,” she huffed, seemingly annoyed that her rest was interrupted.
Continuing on, because I really didn’t care if I was annoying her, I asked, “Why is she on the roof? Alone?”
“It’s release day,” she simply answered, like I should know what that meant. She expected me to know what those three words explained.
“So?” I tried prompting her, using my hands, urging her to elaborate.
“So, release day always makes her gloomy. It’s the whole fear of reading people’s opinions of her, the judgment of others, exposing yourself to the world.” I understood what Raylee was saying, I really did. But, it didn’t make sense to me. I read her reviews; they loved her. Throughout all her books, nothing had changed.
“She’s amazing. They all think so.” I felt the need to defend her.
“I know that. You know that. She doesn’t know that. She
never believes it. It’s her damn ex’s fault.”
I thought about it. I thought about it hard, but I didn’t know her story. I didn’t know her background. I didn’t know anything beyond the Mari that she let me see, the Mari that shared her ice cream and awkwardly tried chopsticks. The Mari that captured me despite all the ways we were complete opposites. Maybe it was due to those opposites that I wanted her.
I gave Raylee a wave and turned toward the door, determined to go find Mari. Raylee’s voice stopped me before I reached the door. “Where are you going?”
“The roof.” Like I needed to tell her. It should’ve been completely obvious I would go searching for Mari . . . because it was always about her, and being by her, next to her, with her.
“She wanted some alone time.” She seemed annoyed, and with her sitting there, not caring that her friend was up on the roof dealing with her worries alone, I really hoped that I was.
“I don’t really care what she wants,” I replied as I pulled open the door. She didn’t try to stop me, and as I slammed the door behind me, I felt a rush of satisfaction.
The hike up to the roof was actually a few floors above us. I climbed the final set of stairs, almost feeling claustrophobic as I ascended the narrow staircase, feeling the walls around me slowly squeezing my breath away. She was worth the discomfort, though.
The door at the end of the staircase was heavy, signs of rust corroded sporadic spots along the bottom and the edge. It took me two tries to push it open, and when I walked through, I saw her there, standing on the edge of the building, on the edge of her emotions, taking in the peace of the surroundings.
“I saw you decided to reunite with yoga today,” I spoke from the doorway, the sound disrupting the birds on the roof, causing a cascade of feathers to flutter through the air as the birds flew away. I watched the feathers slowly fall to the ground, landing angelically around Mari, and in her hair. It was entrancing, and for a moment, I had a fleeting thought of how symbolic they were, how maybe it was true what they said about feathers, maybe they were a sign from heaven. Maybe it was a sign from Simon telling me that this girl, this girl right here was my way to freedom. My new inspiration for life, a possibility for a new path to release me from my self-imposed bars.
Life was never that simple, though, and my fate had always been destined for this lonely life. Not a life intended for love and happiness or a life surrounded by the pure joy that came with unobstructed love.
“It was a quick encounter between old friends.” Her voice was dull as she looked over the city.
“You guys are friends, so that’s a start.” I smiled at her, knowing she couldn’t see it.
The air between us grew silent, stifling in the vast space of the rooftop, but I didn’t want to speak, I wanted her to offer up words first. She didn’t. For a long while, she didn’t offer up a single contribution to let me know she was here, with me, under the slowly fading sun of the approaching evening. When she finally did speak, it was faint, just a rustle in the night.
"Tell me something beautiful," she whispered, her words barely audible over the breeze.
"Like what?" I questioned, afraid to take my eyes off her.
"Anything." She stretched her arms out from her sides, letting the air flow through her fingers as she balanced on the ledge. At that moment, with the wind whipping her hair into unruly strands, the sun illuminating the auburn highlights, making her hair look like a mass of unconfined fire dancing freely, I wanted to say so many things to her. You’re beautiful. Everything about you. But, I couldn't cross that line, not when her friendship was the only thing anchoring me.
Instead, I picked the next best thing. "I read recently that a husband and wife who had been married for 70 years, died holding hands."
Her head turned toward me, looking at me over her shoulder. "Death is beautiful?"
"Only when it means you've spent your whole life with the one you love, and without her life is unbearable."
"Is that what you want in life?" She had turned her head back toward the city, taking in the view. "To find love?"
I’ve already found it, my eyes told her, but my voice refused to admit it. "It's not about finding love. It's about finding something that makes this all worth it. They made life worth it together; that's beautiful."
"Is there a difference?" She took a step backward, stepping off the cement border on the rooftop.
"I'll let you know when I find out." My confession of inexperience was the only thing I could offer.
Folding up her legs, she tucked them under her before her butt hit the rooftop’s cold cement. “I found love once; it wasn’t worth it.”
“Maybe it was just him who wasn’t worth it.” I walked slowly toward her, taking a seat next to her and sitting so close our knees touched.
She picked a feather off the ground, twirling it in her fingers. “Sometimes, despite knowing the truth, it’s hard not to believe the words of others.”
“Well, you can believe the words I say, and I say you’re amazing.” I inched my hand toward her, linking our pinkies together. She didn’t try to move away, and despite the whole conversation and the seriousness of her mood, I took it as a good sign.
“I was married once; did I tell you that? He was a smooth talker, handsome, everything I thought I wanted. So much so that I missed all the little signs, the vague insults, the slips of the tongue, until it became so clear I couldn’t ignore it any longer. It was hard, damn near impossible really, to escape his grasp, but I did it. And every day I work hard to remind myself that I am better than he led me to believe. But sometimes, especially on days like this when I put myself out there for the world to judge, his influences creep back in, trying to convince me that no matter what, I’m not good enough.”
Her arm stretched out, and she released the feather in her hand, letting it fall in a slow descent to the streets below. “I read the reviews. All of them. They love you, they really do.”
What I didn’t add was how much I did too. I was almost past the point of caring if she knew how incredibly infatuated I was with her, how my days weren’t complete unless I got a glimpse of her, or how good it felt to just be next to her. Once it clicked in my mind that this was it, she was it, I couldn’t push the thought away.
Her teeth toyed with her bottom lip, and I could tell that she was fighting a bubble of excitement. “They do?”
I changed my voice to imitate that of an announcer. “Smashing hit! Five stars! Sinclair’s best book of the year! Where can I get myself a Mr. Ryan?!”
Her shoulder jammed into mine, her voice came out in a giggle. “Stop.”
I reached into her hair, pulling out a feather now stuck in the waves. Her eyes watched me as I took the feather and shoved it into my pocket, determined to save it for myself. “Me? Stop? I don’t think it’s me that needs some halting. You should really talk to all those thirsty women lusting after some non-existent male.”
“They aren’t that bad; you’re making it up,” she insisted.
“I most certainly am not. I’m pretty sure some girl even used a gif of panties being removed to describe her feelings. Should I worry that my girl is apparently writing imageless porn?”
I hadn’t meant to say it, and I guess I was secretly hoping she wouldn’t have heard it. But, when had I ever been that lucky? The moment the words registered, questions formed in her eyes and I realized it was probably a now or never situation. I hadn’t really planned on telling her that at some point, her friendship became more to me, but I slipped, and if I didn’t tell her then, I could only do more harm than good.
“Your girl?” she asked the question lightly, but the air between us felt anything but light. It was thick and stifling, with feelings unknown and thoughts unspoken.
“Didn’t you know?” I reached up and tangled my fingers into the strands of hair that had been taunting me, curling my palm around the back of her neck. “Didn’t you know that from the moment I first met you, you’ve always been
my girl?”
I didn’t give her a chance to question my statement, to wonder about my motive or think anything about this moment being a bad idea. Instead, I tugged her hair a little tighter and leaned into her as I brought her lips to mine. The second my lips touched hers, I knew there was no going back for me. This was it; this had always been it. Everything in my life that I had done before, every moment we spent together, every movement, every glance, every damn thing that had happened since the moment we met and fate brought us closer, it all led up to this instant where her lips pressed against mine.
With the first touch of my lips, she froze, and I feared it might be the moment that ruined us, destroying everything we had become, but I wasn’t going to let my fears dictate something I had craved so deeply. I moved my lips against hers, probably more demanding than I should have, but if I only had this chance, I wanted to offer her everything. When I began to pull away, I knew I’d crossed a line and there was no turning back.
Her hand snaked up between us, clutching my shirt tightly, holding me in place right before I felt her lips move against mine. They were tentative and soft and even though I didn’t want to ruin this moment, ruin whatever this little bit of secret heaven she was offering me, I couldn’t contain the moan that tore through my throat and escaped in a gasp that she consumed. No, not just consumed, devoured. Her lips passed the sweet, gentle stage, and somehow, we got lost in the hunger that we had both been holding onto.
The door behind us creaked, and Mari pulled away, her eyes wide just as Victoria walked through the door. “There you are, I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Spencer. Raylee said you came up here.”
I tried not to lick my lips, even knowing that the taste of Mari was still on them. “What do you need?” I sounded gruff, but I couldn’t help it. She just ruined my perfect moment, and my world still hadn’t fully righted itself.
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