Play of Light

by Debra Doxer

  Everyone once in a while, he’d glance up and squint into the crowd. The lights on him were bright and if he was looking for me, I was fairly sure he couldn’t find me. They played some songs I remembered from the last show. Most of their songs were fast and intense, causing the crowd to stand and do lots of dancing and jumping in place.

  We stayed seated, cheering as loud as we could when each song ended. Near the middle of the show, the empty chairs at the reserved table beside us filled.

  Riley’s eyes widened and then narrowed. I followed her stare to find Annabelle and some other girls sitting there. “How did she get into the VIP section?” Riley yelled to me over the noise.

  I shrugged, even though she didn’t expect an answer. After seeing the way Spencer reacted to her at Colby’s party, I wasn’t too worried about Annabelle, other than hoping she wouldn’t bother him. But then we overheard them talking.

  “Will Spencer call you up there to sing tonight?” a short blonde sitting beside Annabelle asked.

  “If he knows I’m here, he will. But I wasn’t sure until the last minute whether or not I’d make it.”

  “Why don’t you text him? Does he keep his phone on him when he’s playing?”

  Annabelle looked uncomfortable. “No. It would be too distracting. Don’t worry. This way, I get to surprise him after the show.”

  Riley’s brows rose skeptically. “So pathetic,” she said. She kept shooting eye daggers in their direction. Sipping on my drink, I tried to keep my focus on the band and Spencer.

  As their set was winding down, Colby came up to the microphone and said, “Sometimes we like to throw Spencer a bone and let him sing a song.”

  The crowd started to cheer. Behind me, Annabelle grinned in triumph and preened, smoothing her hair and adjusting her dress. My mouth dropped open at the same time Riley’s did. Was Spencer really going to sing with her?

  Then Colby, Ben, and Rick all walked off the stage, leaving just Spencer, his guitar, and a muted spotlight. He walked up to the microphone amongst excited screams and cheers. From the corner of my eye, I could see Annabelle pushing her chair back while Spencer scanned the room.

  I watched him, nearly holding my breath until his dark eyes found me. He leaned into the microphone. “This is ‘Sara Smile.’”

  I pulled in a sharp breath. Then he played the first note and began singing softly. It was achingly familiar, sounding just like it had on the beach the only other time he’d played it for me. I didn’t want to look away, so I didn’t know how Annabelle was reacting, but Riley’s satisfied snickers gave me a clue.

  Spencer’s eyes never left mine as he sang, directing each word to me. His voice was smooth and deep, singing lyrics about forever. Soon people were turning to look, following his gaze to see who he was singing to. When the crowd shifted, blocking my view of him, I stood, unwilling to lose the link between us.

  His image blurred as my eyes filled with tears. The world shrank as if it was just the two of us here. I couldn’t contain the emotions overwhelming me. I’d loved Spencer for so long, and it seemed like he was telling me he felt the same way. Tears trailed down my cheeks. I was full-on crying now, right in the middle of his beautiful song and in front of everyone here.

  He must have noticed because his brow creased with worry as he played the final notes. I wanted to go backstage to tell him how much I liked it, and that I wasn’t upset. But before I could move, he set his guitar down and jumped off the stage. He began threading his way through the shocked crowd that had gathered at the front. The next moment, he was standing in front of me.

  “Please don’t cry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

  Spencer looked so upset, and I wanted to reassure him, but I couldn’t push the words past the tightness in my throat. When he reached out to wipe away my tears, I needed him to know how I was feeling. I wanted to show him. Taking his face in my hands, I brought his mouth down on mine. Then I kissed him—full, long, and deep. His arms wound around my back as he pulled me against him.

  The crowd was merely background noise, and I shut it all out as Spencer surrounded me. I melted into him as if it was the most natural thing in the world, as if I was right where I belonged. When we finally broke apart, he looked as dazed as I felt.

  “So crying meant you liked it?”

  I laughed and nodded. He raised a skeptical eyebrow at me.

  “Crying meant I loved it,” I said softly.

  Meanwhile, the girls around us were watching and waiting for an opening to approach. As soon as his arms released me, they began to close in. He frowned and pulled me against him, hunching his shoulders, trying to shield me as he nudged me back toward the side of the stage. He gave Riley a nod, so she followed, and we all made our way to the door.

  “Shouldn’t you be more friendly to your fans?” I asked.

  “Not tonight. Tonight you’re here, and you’re the only one I want to be friendly to.”

  His hands were on my shoulders, making my skin heat. Who knew he could say things like that? Flirty things that made my heart pinch and buck at the same time. Having Spencer’s full attention had been a heady experience when we were kids, but having the adult Spencer focused on me made it feel like the room was on fire.

  He ushered us through a door next to the stage, pushing it closed behind us with his boot, muting the noise.

  “I think Annabelle is finally history,” Riley snickered.

  “What?” Spencer turned toward her.

  “She was here tonight. She thought you were going to call her up to sing with you.” Riley was still smirking while Spencer looked a little horrified.

  “But ‘Sara Smile’ effectively put a fork in her.” Riley grinned. “She’s done.”

  Worried now, Spencer looked at me. “I didn’t know she was here. Did she bother you?”

  “Nope,” I said to reassure him.

  “Sarah Smile,” Riley said almost to herself. “That’s what your dad used to call you.”

  I nodded, noticing how much less it hurt to hear that song and that nickname now.

  “When did you learn it?” she asked Spencer.

  “The day I met Sarah.”

  Riley stopped in her tracks and stared at him. I think I stared too. That very day? Then Riley looked at Spencer as if she was seeing him for the first time. She shook her head slowly. “I had no idea.”

  I hadn’t either.

  With a quick, almost embarrassed glance at me, Spencer took my hand and continued walking backstage, which was just a dark hallway that ended at a small room painted black and filled with the voices of Colby and the other guys.

  “So now we’re playing fucking Barry Manilow songs?”

  I overheard this before we entered. I thought Rick said it.

  “That was Hall & Oates, asshole,” Colby shot back.

  “Whatever. It’s lame.”

  “It was for Sarah. I kind of liked it,” Ben added as we appeared in the doorway.

  Rick looked up and his eyes widened as he focused on us. Then he turned away and started to pack up his stuff.

  “That song is a classic,” Riley stated, giving Rick the evil eye. She moved past me to get to Colby. “Great show, babe.”

  He leaned down to kiss her. “As long as we’re here, let’s head downtown and hit some of the clubs,” he suggested.

  I slumped at the thought of it. I’d been up for almost forty-eight hours. I needed my second wind just to drag myself here.

  Beside me, Spencer noticed my body language. “I think Sarah and I are going to head back.”

  Ben frowned. “But you’re our ride.”

  Spencer tossed Colby the keys to the van and Riley caught on, digging into her purse and throwing her keys back at Spencer. Then Riley and I followed the guys as they loaded some gear into the back of the van. They didn’t have to pack it all since they were playing here again tomorrow night.

  “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Riley whispered when we parted ways in the parking
lot.

  I laughed and rolled my eyes. But inside I was vibrating with a potent combination of desire and trepidation, knowing I wanted to be with Spencer, but also wondering if I was ready for that. We’d just found each other again. I didn’t want to screw it up by rushing into things.

  Spencer was quiet on the ride home as we listened to the radio playing softly in the background. I leaned my head back, feeling the wind on my face and watching the yellow streetlights streak past the windshield. I might have even dozed off for a little while.

  It wasn’t until he’d parked Riley’s car in front of his place that I realized where we were. He hadn’t brought me home. Instead he turned to me and said, “I want to show you something.” Then he smiled, a welcome balm to my reemerging nerves.

  Once we were inside, he didn’t turn on any lights. Instead, he walked to the slider in the living room and opened it. The ocean breeze and the sound of crashing waves rolled into the room. As the air changed, mixing with the humidity coming off the water, he turned and looked at me standing there. His eyes were hooded, making my pulse quicken. My anxiety multiplied, I was practically trembling by the time he closed the distance between us.

  His gaze softened as if he could sense the tension coming off me. “Sarah Smile,” he whispered.

  It sounded like a request. So I did. I couldn’t help myself.

  “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

  Spencer disappeared down the hallway. Sounds of him moving around in his bedroom drifted to me as I walked to the open door and inhaled the salty air. I was calmer when he came back into the room. He held something in his hand that looked like a picture in a frame.

  “Take a look at this,” he said as he sat down on the couch.

  I wondered what it was as I walked over and lowered myself beside him.

  He held it out toward me, a hesitant smile on his lips.

  When I leaned in to see, my jaw nearly dropped. I could hardly believe it. Inside a wooden frame was the portrait I’d done of him, the one he took from me that night on the roof.

  “I saved it,” he said.

  I could hardly grasp the fact that Spencer had kept it and taken such good care of it. Tentatively, I ran my finger along the smooth glass that covered the drawing, stopping at the shadowed eyes that hid so much back then. It had taken me hours to get them just right. Then I noticed the smoothed-out creases where he’d folded it and the smudge mark above his cheek where my teardrop hit the paper. Lightly I touched my own face, noticing that the mark was almost in the same place as my scar.

  Feeling his gaze on me, I looked away from the sketch to the real-life adult version. My eyes welled up and he frowned at me. I was crying again. I’d cried too much since I’d been here, as if I’d saved up my tears for too long and they were overflowing now.

  He leaned in and pressed his forehead to mine. “Tell me why you’re crying, Sarah.”

  I released a shaky breath, not sure how to answer.

  “Is it because you thought I didn’t care about you when I made you give this to me? I cared too much. That was always the problem.” His hand cupped my cheek. “Have you thought about me?”

  I nodded my head against his.

  “Have you thought about this?”

  He kissed me softly, and I sighed against his lips. Then his fingers moved into my hair, turning my head to get a better angle before his tongue glided into my mouth. I answered him by stroking his tongue with mine. My hands moved into his thick hair, comparing its softness to the roughness of his cheek. He was less the boy of my childhood dreams and more the real man I’d gotten to know now. This older Spencer was kind and open, funny and caring, and honest. We were both finally being honest. We kissed sweetly at first and then more deeply, until our passionate touches turned frantic.

  Soon his hands were roaming downward, running along my spine, slipping beneath the top of my sundress, making me shiver and melt all at once. I wanted to feel his skin too, and reached my hands down to slip beneath his shirt. When my fingers touched his stomach, he sucked in a breath. I hadn’t seen him without a shirt since we were kids, and I wanted to see him now more than anything.

  I grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and began pushing it up. Spencer was too focused on the skin at the base of my throat where his lips now lingered to do more than lean back, yank his shirt off, and return his lips to me. I would have laughed at his quick move if I wasn’t pushing on his shoulders, getting him to sit back so I could see him better.

  When he finally did, my mouth went dry. He was tanned, covered in lean muscle, and completely smooth except for a small trail of dark hair that started low on his abdomen, divided the V peeking out at his hips, and disappeared beneath the top button of his jeans. I thought of the picture Tessa texted me earlier, and decided that I preferred Spencer’s body to her lake guy any day.

  Spencer lifted one side of his mouth, pleased by my obvious admiration. He reached out toward my shoulders, lifted the straps of my dress, and began to slowly slide them down my arms. He stopped after a few inches and looked at me.

  My eyes rose to meet his. With every fiber of my body, I wanted him to keep going, but instead he put my straps back into place, caressing my shoulders as he brushed over them.

  A part of me was asking, Why did he stop? But another part knew. My gaze moved over his chest and then back up to his serene face. So much had happened in the past few days. I was overly emotional and still upset by all I’d learned, and he didn’t want to take advantage. His conflicted expression made that clear.

  I could have contradicted him, could have taken off my dress myself, but I didn’t. I was exhausted, and right now I just wanted him to hold me.

  “How do you feel about staying here tonight and sleeping beside me? Just sleeping.”

  I laughed softly and nodded. Somehow, he knew what I needed.

  He took both my hands in his. Warmth bloomed in my chest and I looked away, shaking my head.

  “What?” he asked.

  “This is just a little surreal.” I didn’t want to keep reverting to the girl with the unrequited crush, but everything he said and did filtered through that girl first.

  He leaned in for a kiss. “I know, but in the best possible way.”

  I smiled against him. While I was pining for Spencer, he was thinking of me too. I had a feeling it would take a long time for that reality to sink in. But for right now, the idea of sleeping next to him was impossible to refuse. “Do you have a toothbrush I can use?”

  “And a shirt you can sleep in,” he said, pulling me up off the couch with him. “I hope you’re still a Red Sox fan.”

  Then he left me in his bathroom with a new toothbrush and a navy T-shirt with BOSTON written in red across the chest. When I came out, he was dressed in only black boxer briefs. My knees went weak at the sight of him as he grinned and walked past me to take his turn.

  Smoothing my hands over the soft cotton material of his shirt, which came down to my knees, I looked around and saw an alarm clock sitting on a nightstand near the window. Figuring that was his side, I took the other side, sitting down and lying back on the pillow. His scent surrounded me, a clean, masculine smell that I recognized as purely Spencer’s.

  When he came out of the bathroom, he stood in the doorway and looked at me. “I could get used to this,” he said.

  He walked around and slipped in beside me, pulling the covers up over both of us and shifting close enough to put an arm over my waist. I turned to face him so that we were both on our sides, our heads sharing one pillow.

  Spencer watched me while his fingers smoothed over the hair at my temple. His touch was meant to be soothing, but it was making my body pulse. It suddenly felt too warm beneath the blanket. Could he see how I reacted to him? Did I make him feel this way too?

  His caresses continued. He kept doing it until my eyes felt heavy. I thought I’d be too keyed up to fall asleep, but I was wrong. I was safe in his bed and more content than I’d been in a very long ti
me.

  A persistent beeping noise sounded. I fought it off, wanting to stay on the beach with Spencer in my dream. I turned and bumped against something soft and hard. Then I felt a hand brushing over my ass. My eyes flew open.

  “I think that’s your phone out in the living room. It’s been going off for a while.” Spencer spoke softly beside me, his morning voice scratchy and adorable.

  Last night came back to me in flashes—the song Spencer sang to me, the sketch he showed me, the invitation to spend the night. I reached out to touch him, laying my palm over his bare chest. He smiled lazily. When I looked up, his eyes darkened with desire. He kissed me softly, gradually rolling onto me, pressing me into the mattress. I loved the feel of his body covering mine; the warmth that radiated off him made me want to snuggle in even closer. My hands traced over the muscles of his arms. Then his hips pushed into my thigh, and I could feel his arousal.

  “Sarah.” He said my name softly before he kissed me, biting gently on my bottom lip. Our mouths moved together perfectly. Spencer’s kisses were soft but firm, demanding and giving at the same time. Soon my body was trembling with want, pushing up against him, seeking more. His hand skimmed down my side until his fingers stopped and traced along the seam of my panties.

  He watched me, waiting. When I bent my knees and let my legs fall open, something flickered in his eyes before he traced a finger over my core. I sucked in a breath. Then he pushed my panties aside and dipped his finger inside me. I closed my eyes, and he pushed another finger in at the same time his thumb circled the sensitive bundle of nerves.

  “Spencer.” I gasped as my hips rose up to meet his hand.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he said quietly, looking down at his hand on me. As his fingers continued to move, I gripped his shoulders. His eyes glittered while he watched my response. When my orgasm rolled through me, he kept going, urging me on while I arched up beneath him.