I’m not looking for anything in particular - besides an escape, maybe, when I look up and see Charlie staring at me from across the aisle.
“Spencer,” she says softly. She looks tired. Worn. I remember the weeks and months after losing Ethan, I hung on by a thread. She looks like she could unravel.
“Charlie,” I say, stepping closer. “How are you?” The question feels so formal, so stiff. What I really want is to wrap my arms around her and kiss her cheeks and tell her how much I miss her. Every hour of every day.
She pulls off the emerald green beanie that was slouching on her head, her hair a tousled mess.Her eyes look down, she’s in a pair of silver Uggs, thick red tights, a bright orange peacoat, a yellow corduroy skirt.
“I know,” she says with a laugh. “I look like a troll threw up all over me. I was hoping that wearing bright colors would cheer me up. But I don’t know if that’s the way it works.”
“At least you’re trying.”
She smiles easily, eyebrows raised. “I suppose. Though, it’s mostly because Daphne was threatening me with a Hallmark movie marathon if I didn’t get dressed and leave the dorm.”
Worry knits itself across my face, and she must notice.
“It’s okay. It’s not that I’m depressed, I just don’t have a lot of extra energy to put into...life.”
I don’t like the idea of Charlie going to a dark place, alone. I want to help pull her out of it.
“I think you look cute. You look like a Funfetti cake.”
She smiles. “What does Spencer Beckett know about cake mix from a box?”
I fake offense. “Hey, my parents may be the one percent, but I’m still American. Everyone loves Funfetti cake.”
She laughs, and the sound fills my heart, feeds my soul. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Charlie happy and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever fucking seen.
“God, I miss you,” I say, without editing myself. Unable to. I need her.
She runs a hand through her messy hair, not meeting my eyes. “Sorry I didn’t call.”
“Don’t apologize. This is your life, you can do with it what you want.”
She nods. “I know. But still, I should have.”
“Why didn’t you?”
She fingers the beanie in her hand. “It’s been hard being back here and I kind of retreated. I leaned into myself instead of reaching out.”
“There’s a time and place for everything,” I say. “Don’t be hard on yourself.”
“I’ve missed you too, Spence.”
“Yeah?” I ask, swallowing hard. Not wanting to get my hopes up.
She nods. “Yeah.”
I take a chance. “Are you up for getting a coffee? There’s a little shop across the street.” Her brows narrow and I add, “As friends.”
The corner of her mouth tugs up. “Your treat?”
“Always.”
15
Charlie
When I left the dorm this afternoon, I didn’t expect to run into Spencer. Maybe if I had, I would have pulled a comb through my hair or looked for clothing that matched. But ironically, I don’t feel self-conscious in front of him even though I look a thousand kinds of looney.
I feel seen.
We find a corner table and begin peeling off winter layers and then Spencer goes to the counter for our drinks. He returns with two white mugs towering with whipped cream and red heart sprinkles.
“Those are cute,” I say.
He lifts his mug and lightly clinks it against mine. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
My eyes go wide. “It’s Valentine’s Day?”
Spencer chuckles. “Yeah, you missed the memo? The record store was playing only classic love songs.”
I groan. “No wonder Daphne was in such a sour mood. She was whining about not having a date the moment she walked in the door with a pint of ice cream and plans to Netflix the heck out of the night.”
Spencer takes a drink of mocha, when he sets down his mug, there is whipped cream on his nose. I swipe it away, with a sudden urge to do so much more. To lean closer. Close enough to kiss.
I blink, knowing that is ancient history. We are ancient history. I don’t even want to know what he thinks about the way I begged him to have sex with me after my mother’s funeral. He must think I’m a mess at best, desperate at worst.
“So um, how have you been?” I ask, wanting to get the attention off the fact I am sitting here with my ex-boyfriend on the most romantic day of the year.
He tenses. “Things have been...fine.”
“We’ve been through enough together, don’t you think? You don’t need to pretend. What’s up?”
“It feels trivial in light of what you’ve been going through, is all.”
I twist my lips. “So is it a school issue, a future issue, a family thing, or friend drama?”
He laughs. “Those are the four categories?”
I nod.
“Well school is fine, grad school hours are pretty nice. But the other boxes would all get checked.”
“Yikes,” I say, taking another sip of the chocolatey coffee, grateful to have something to talk about besides my own grief. “What happened? Did someone try and dethrone Princeton Charming?”
“My sister is dating Prescott, if you can believe it.”
I shake my head, remembering seeing them together a few weeks ago and not believing it then. It’s hard to imagine sweet Ava with the calculating Prescott. “I can’t see it.”
“Me either.” Spencer runs a hand through his hair, he looks so handsome when he does, his muscles strain and my core tightens. God, I’ve missed him.
“So I’m assuming Prescott and you are fighting about that?”
Spencer sighs. “Actually, we’ve been doing a pretty stellar job of avoiding one another. It was Ava who told me.”
“And your parents, what do they think of the new relationship?” An unexpected knot tightens in my stomach. The idea of the Becketts accepting a man like Prescott but not a woman like me hurts more than I’d like to admit.
“Truth is, I haven’t really gotten into it with them. We aren’t exactly on speaking terms at the moment.”
“How come?”
He winces and looks away. “It’s nothing.”
“Obviously it’s something. What happened.”
“I made a small donation, that’s all.”
“A donation to what?”
He sighs and leans back in his chair. “I guess you’ll probably find out anyway. After the funeral, I used the Beckett trust to make a donation in your mom’s name to the MS Society.”
Emotions swell inside me. I’ve never liked it when he used his money to buy things, but this is different, this is...Spencer.
“And your parents are upset?”
“I’m pretty sure they’d find any reason to be pissed at me lately. But I wasn’t exactly easy on them either.”
I place my hand over his. “I know your family isn’t the most accepting, but they’re still the only one you’ve got.”
“Yeah, I know you’re right.” His fingers twine with mine and his gaze goes distant as he looks at where our flesh meets.
Energy sizzles and snaps between us, that constant pull.
“I should be heading back,” I say, knowing where this will end if I don’t walk away. Me begging him for one more night in his arms.
“I’ll walk you.” He stands and offers me his hand.
I take it and we leave the coffee shop.
“So no big date tonight for the infamous Princeton Charming?” I ask, teasing, but also curious about if he’s seeing anyone else. It shouldn’t matter, but it does. And I’m not really sure I want to know.
I feel him tense.
“Sorry,” I mutter. “It’s none of my business.”
He stops and places his hands on my shoulder, his jaw bouncing, blue eyes hard. “I’m not seeing anyone, Charlie, if that’s what you’re asking. Haven’t since...” He glances away and
a flash of pain tightens his features. When he looks back at me, his gaze has softened. “Since we broke up.”
“Oh.” What else can I say? I lean into him, knowing I’m falling down a slippery slope. But I can’t remember one good reason right now why we’re not together.
I fist my fingers into his jacket, snow falling around us, and his hands go to my face, cupping my jaw, gazes locked.
God, I love him. My chest aches with it.
“Spencer—”
“I know.” He gives me a sad smile and rests his forehead against mine. “Just friends.”
Except I want so much more. I want him.
I wrap my arms around his neck and pull his mouth to mine. He kisses me back. Soft. Gentle. His lips brush against mine hesitantly.
“Friends don’t kiss, Charlie,” he says roughly against my mouth, his fingers curling in my hair at the nape of my neck, and I can feel him holding back. Feel all the pent up emotions that we’ve both shoved down.
“Maybe we can make an exception?”
His breathing is ragged. “You’re killing me, Hayes.”
“Sorry.” I start to pull away. Maybe I misread the situation. “I shouldn't have—”
He kisses me hard then. His tongue swiping past my lips, his mouth taking, consuming. It’s a lot, and still not enough.
I’m lost in the kiss, my body melting into him, my fingers desperate to touch him and hating the material that separates us.
Women’s laughter pulls me out of the moment. A group of girls that I recognize from my dorm are walking by, and one of them has their phone out, no doubt recording us. But it’s the guy she’s with that gives me pause.
Decan has his arm slung over the blonde’s shoulder, his expression violent, lips curling in a sneer.
“We should go,” I say, stepping out of Spencer’s arms.
“Yeah, sure,” he says, frowning. I’m not sure if he’s even aware of the people watching us. Or of Decan. But I don’t want any trouble. I take his hand and we start to walk in the opposite direction of the group.
When we’re outside my dorm, I stand on one of the steps so that I’m eye to eye with him. “Thanks for walking me back.”
“What are we doing, Charlie?”
“I don’t know.”
He exhales a rough breath. “I fucking hate this.”
“Me too.”
Silence wraps around us. Not being with him is torture. But nothing has changed. He’s still Princeton Charming. And no matter how many times I’ve fantasized about being with him, I can’t see a future, a life where we can make it work. His family and friends will never fully accept me, and I don’t want to be part of a world that constantly snubs its nose at me just because I wasn’t born into the top one percent.
But right now, with him standing in front of me, all those things don’t seem to matter.
“Go away with me this weekend,” he says, moving closer.
I lick my lips, wanting his on mine again. “Where?”
“The mountains. We can go skiing.”
I laugh. “I don’t ski.”
“Yet,” he says, his eyes sparkling with hope. “I’m a good teacher.”
“Okay, Princeton Charming. You can teach me to ski,” I say, thinking of all the other things Spencer Beckett has already taught me - most of which took place in a bedroom, not the ski slopes.
I stand on my tiptoes, kissing him again. Quick this time, with the promise of more.
16
Spencer
“You sure we can’t just stay in the lodge?” Charlie asks, biting her bottom lip, her eyes wandering longingly toward the fireplace flanked by oversized leather armchairs. An older woman is sitting with a Kindle and a hot toddy and Charlie is practically drooling.
I shake my head. “No, I’m getting you on the mountain. From the sound of it, you’ve hardly left your dorm in weeks. The fresh air will be good for you.”
She sighs but doesn’t disagree. “Hot chocolate first, though?” she asks, pointing to a coffee stand in the lodge.
I chuckle. “We just had coffee.”
“That was like, an hour ago. I need a sugar rush before I strap myself into the skis.”
“I think you just have a sweet tooth.”
She smiles, scrunching up her nose as she drags me to the coffee stand. “Well, that too.”
We stand in line for her drink, and she laces her fingers with mine. I don’t know what we are exactly, if we are dating - but being here at this lodge, away for the weekend, makes me believe that anything is possible.
“Why are you smiling?” she asks, standing up on her tiptoes. I wrap an arm around her. God, she looks so cute in this winter hat and scarf.
I look into her hazel eyes, flecked with hope, same as mine. “I’m just happy you came, Charlie.”
“Me too.” She kisses me quickly on the nose, laughing, and then turns and places her order. Then we step aside to wait for her drink. “When I told Daphne I was coming she didn’t believe me. And Tatum has strong opinions about this trip.”
I’m sure he does.
Still, I frown, not sure where this is headed. She squeezes my hand. “But there is something here. Between us. Something I wouldn’t expect my friends to understand.”
“Hot chocolate for Charlotte,” the barista calls.
Charlie reaches for it, pulling off the lid and taking a sip of the whipped cream laden drink. We walk away from the coffee stand, into a corner where we can be alone.
“And the thing is, Spencer, seeing you on Valentine's’ Day felt … serendipitous.”
“I didn’t know you believed in fate.”
She bites the corner of her lip, lifting her eyebrows. “I believe in us.”
I picked her up early this morning, and our car ride to the mountain was comfortable. We listened to music and drank our to-go cups of coffee, she told me about the term paper she is getting a head start on and I told her how I spent last weekend at the homeless shelter in Manhattan.
But the words she is saying now - they’re different than friends playing catch-up.
Now that we’re here, and she isn’t backing away from this. Us. What we could be. She’s leaning in, same as me.
“I’m really glad we’re here, alone, so we can figure out what we want,” I tell her, choosing my words carefully. Not wanting to jump the gun. Confess everything. Things I have no business saying but want to share all the same.
That being in Michigan with her changed me.
That not having her in my life is torture.
That she makes me want to be the best fucking version of myself.
Our bags are in the room where we’ll be staying tonight before we head back to campus tomorrow. We just got here and I’m already dreading the idea of leaving.
She smiles. “Yeah, you can find out if you really want to spend time with a girl who has two left feet.”
She offers me her hot chocolate and I take a drink. “I’ve never thought of you as a klutz. And if I remember correctly, you have some impressive dance moves.”
Laughing, she takes her cocoa back. “True. Maybe it’s all a defense mechanism. It’s a little intimidating being up here with you. You grew up skiing, I grew up making snowmen.”
“Then let’s get out on the slopes and see what you’re made of.”
She shakes her head, but she’s smiling. “I don’t think you realize what you’re getting yourself into. Tatum tried taking me snowboarding once and it was a disaster.”
I frown, thinking of Tatum being on a mountain with her. The idea of the two of them up here makes my skin crawl.
“You are so jealous,” she laughs.
“It’s hard imagining you with someone else, is all.”
She takes my hand in hers. “Well, you’re the one with me now.”
I pull her into a kiss, loving the way she fits so well in my arm, and even though our weekend away has only begun, I have high hopes.
The way her lips melt against mine tell m
e I have good reason to dream.
“See,” she whispers as we pull apart. “We could just go up to the hotel room and do more of that...no need to wrangle with ski poles when you have a pole—”
I cut her off, teasing. “I see what you’re after here. You’re looking for an out. But I promise this is going to be fun. Besides, you went to all that work getting the gear you’re wearing, might as well put it to good use.”
She laughs. “True.” She runs a hand over the white snow parka her friend Jill let her borrow. She has on a cute white hat and white snow pants that are way to big for her. “I wish Jill and I were closer to the same size, I feel like a giant marshmallow.”
“I think it’s cute. You’re a snow bunny.” I pinch her nose, aching to pinch so much more.
“You’ll be calling me the abominable snowman the moment I step off that lift,” she laughs.
I push open the heavy wood door, the majestic mountain cutting a gorgeous view for us, the bright sun blazing down and the sky blue. It’s the perfect day.
“Is that Winslow?” Charlie asks, pointing over at the ski rack, frowning.
“Fuck me.”
Charlie laughs. “Anxious, much.”
I chuckle, appreciating that Charlie doesn’t get all wound up over seeing my ex. God knows I’m not quite as cool with Tatum. “I didn’t know she would be here.”
“It’s okay, she doesn’t even see us.”
“Yet,” I mutter under my breath as we pause for a moment, waiting for Winslow to walk away before heading toward our skis to clip ourselves in.
When we’re finally all geared up, I begin explaining how to maneuver.
“Just bend your knees and waist slightly,” I tell her. “Yep, just like that.”
She adjusts her body and listens for the next directive. “And keep your arms out wide.”
Like the focused student she is, she asks, “How wide exactly?”
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