“Spencer isn’t a bad guy!” Sophie said, frustration welling up inside her. “You never even gave him a chance.”
“I already told you.” His voice had gotten dangerously low. “I don’t need to. I know guys like him. He’s going to make something really bad happen if you stick with him.”
By lunch, Sophie was ready to call it a day and go home to sleep. Joe’s final parting words that morning buzzed through her ears like the harsh grind of a band saw. She felt relief when she reached the cafeteria to find him absent from their table. Then an instant punch of guilt struck her for feeling relief. Then annoyance at both herself and Joe.
Lauren and Jessie were there with Brian and the gang. Suddenly being there with all of them seemed like a much bigger chore. It had been so simple before. Just the four of them together, eating, talking about wanting to be part of a bigger crowd. But now that it was happening, Sophie wanted to turn and leave.
“Sophie!” Brian waved her over, catching her before she could escape.
Sophie suppressed the urge to grimace or worse, leave anyway. She smiled and made her way over. “Hey.” She set her lunch down and squeezed in between Lauren and Becky Pay.
“Wow, you look … ” Brian rooted for a word that wouldn’t get him smacked. “Is that a new top?”
Sophie glowered at his teasing, feeling her lips twitch. “Ha-ha.”
“It looks nice on you!” He grinned and winked, at which she just chuckled and shook her head. “Hey! Rowth! Over here!”
Sophie turned as Spencer stalked into the room, looking worse than she did. He ambled over to their table and, despite Maggie’s erratic waving for his attention to the seat next to her, took the remaining spot next to Sophie, a spot normally reserved for Joe. Sophie didn’t object. She had a feeling Joe wouldn’t be coming.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” she said, keeping her voice low.
Spencer shook his head. “Don’t sweat it.”
“You two look like you were up partying all night,” Brian observed.
Sophie couldn’t muster the energy to answer. Spencer didn’t either. Brian gave them a smirk that said he knew exactly what they’d been doing, but didn’t press them as he turned to Roy on his other side.
“For the record,” Lauren said from Sophie’s other side. “Jess and I don’t think it’s your fault,” she told Spencer.
Spencer offered her a halfhearted smile. “Thanks.”
From Lauren’s other side, Jessie nodded, her curls nearly touching her food as she leaned around Lauren to see Spencer. “Joe’s always been super protective. I think he feels responsible for us.”
“I have no problems with the guy,” Spencer said. “I get it. I got a little sister myself.”
Sophie wanted to touch him, but refrained. This quiet, sullen Spencer wasn’t the fun, touchy Spencer from their time alone.
“Sophie? Spencer? You guys in?”
They hadn’t heard Brian talking, or at least she hadn’t, because now even Spencer was watching her, seemingly waiting for her to respond. Sophie’s eyes widened as she glanced from her friends, to Spencer to Brian.
“What?”
“Valentine’s,” Brian said as if that was supposed to mean something to her. “The school’s throwing a huge party in the gym, but we usually have our own party at the cabin. Are you guys in?”
“Uh … ” Unconsciously, Sophie darted a glance towards Spencer, but he was staring down at his hands. His avoidance both annoyed and confused her, propelling her to answer. “I’m in.”
“Yes!” Jessie squeaked, so excited her curls were vibrating.
Lauren snickered. “Girl, I’ve been dreaming about the cabin since the last time we were there.”
Sophie chuckled. “Then I’m totally in!”
Brian smacked the lip of the table. “Awesome!”
After lunch, Spencer caught up to her as she went to her locker to switch books.
“Do you think it’s safe?”
She turned to him, confused. “What do you mean?”
He slumped a shoulder against the locker next to hers. “Going to the cabin with that psycho on the loose?”
She traded her Math text for her Geography book. “Well, maybe the police will find him before then. There’s still a full two and a half weeks before Valentine’s.” She slammed her locker closed and swung her bag onto her back.
“Sophie … ” He sighed, dropping his gaze. He stayed that way for several long minutes, staring down at their feet before seemingly bracing himself and looking up. “Wait for me after school?”
Her brows furrowed. “Because you don’t want me walking home alone?”
He started to shake his head, stopped and shrugged instead. “That and because … ” He dampened his lips. “I want to talk to you about something.” Intrigued, she opened her mouth to ask what. “After school,” he said, barely suppressing a smile. “By the front doors.”
She scowled. “I hate waiting.”
He flicked her nose playfully. “Patience, Blondie.”
She poked him in the belly, making him grunt. “You’re still way blonder than I am.”
He ruffled a hand through his silky tresses, smirking at her from beneath his lashes. “But it sounds sexier on you.” With a wink, he walked away.
School refused to end. As soon as last class hit, it was as if time stopped. Every time she glanced at the clock, it was in the same place as it had been when she’d sat down. It didn’t matter that she kept telling herself that a watched clock never ticked. It took the final bell going off for her to realize it really and truly was not ticking. It was dead. She threw it a dark glower as she gathered her books and hurried after the others.
At her locker, she grabbed her things and went to wait for Spencer by the front doors. But the moment she stepped foot outside the metal doors, she knew something wasn’t right. There were students shaking off their coats and the grayish light had turned a strange shade of yellow, soft and fluffy and unexpected. It took her a moment to recognize the change.
The sun was shining. The gray wall of clouds had parted just enough to shower the soggy world with a warm halo of sunlight. It was such a novelty, students were actually standing and staring with one hand cupped over their eyes. There were still four months before the sun would officially be visiting British Columbia so to see it now, glowing so bright and welcoming, it gave more than one person a start.
“Hey! I remember you!”
Embarrassed at being caught staring slack-jawed at the heavens, Sophie quickly snapped her mouth closed and blinked down at the figure strolling towards her.
“Sarah, right?” Why did everyone think her name was Sarah? Did she look like a Sarah?
“Sophie,” she corrected automatically, every muscle in her body tensing as the figure came into focus.
“That’s right.” Straight, white teeth flashed in a warm smile. “Sophie. I’m—”
“I know who you are,” she muttered, moving away from him, away from the doors to another part of the small courtyard.
Jamie followed, much to her annoyance. “I’m waiting for Spencer. Have you seen him?”
She jostled her backpack higher on her back, refusing to meet his gaze. “Earlier. He should be out soon.”
He stopped with a respectable amount of space between them, his hands innocently tucked into the pockets of his long, beige coat. He wore a navy suit underneath, red tie and all. His thick head of hair was tussled by the wind and fell quiet attractively around his rugged face. He looked like a corporate lawyer, which made her trust him all the less.
“So how are you?” he asked.
“Fine,” she muttered, wishing Spencer would hurry up.
He chuckled, the sound a little sad. “You don’t like me.” It wasn’t a question.
“I don’t know you well enough not to like you,” she said, although they both knew that wasn’t true.
He shared Spencer’s dimples when he beamed at her, but his smile didn’t
make her knees weak. “Maybe we can rectify that and start over?” He extended a hand. “I’m Jamie Rowth.”
She started to refuse, but there was something almost charming and playful in his eyes. It was hard to resist. She accepted the handshake. “Sophie.”
He gave her hand a single shake and a squeeze. “It’s nice to meet you, Sophie. You have beautiful eyes, not sure anyone’s ever told you.”
She yanked her hand out of his. “Thanks.”
“Are you waiting for Spencer as well?”
“Yes.”
“Look.” He splayed his hands, palms up. “I’m not really used to strangers hating me, so this is a little weird for me. How about giving me a chance to prove I’m not a complete ass?”
Sophie eyed him. “But you admit to being a partial ass?”
Jamie grinned. “I don’t deny I can be.” He beamed when her traitorous mouth twitched. “So are you and Spence close?”
Sophie shrugged. “I guess.”
“That’s nice!” he said, sounding like he really meant it. “I’m glad to hear he’s making friends here. I know we were worried about him.”
“Why?”
He had the decency to look uncomfortable. “I’m guessing he’s told you about what happened?”
Sophie said nothing, letting him come to his own conclusion.
“It’s not as black and white as that,” Jamie said with a hint of regret. “I know what happened between Aimee and I was a mistake. I should have had more control. I hate that Spencer got hurt. I would change that if I could.”
“Which part?”
Brown eyes blinked in surprise. “Well—”
“You can’t say all of it,” she said before he could. “That’s a cop out. Do you regret hurting Spencer or do you regret sleeping with his girlfriend?”
He opened and closed his mouth, mimicking a fish perfectly before catching himself. “For hurting Spencer. I never wanted that.” His lips bowed into the smallest of smiles. “I just have a weakness for pretty girls.” He turned his body so they were facing each other. “I would love to tell you the whole story if you’ll let me. I would really hate for you to think badly of me.”
Sophie blocked all emotion from showing on her face. “Does your story somehow change from the original?”
Surprise flickered across his eyes. “What?”
“Well, how does your story differ from the one I’ve already heard? Did you not steal Aimee?”
“No!” he said almost automatically. “I mean, there is so much behind what happened. It’s not black and white,” he paused, studying her. “If you let me buy you a drink, I can explain everything and make you see that I’m not the bad guy here.”
“Just the victim.”
He put up his hands. “Now I don’t condone what I did. I know it was very wrong, but … ” He shifted a step closed so there was only a foot between them. “I really don’t want you to walk away thinking the worst of me.”
Sophie frowned. “Why would my opinion matter at all? You don’t know me.”
His smile was slow, illuminating his handsome face. “That doesn’t mean we can’t get to know each other.” He ghosted his fingers down the length of her arm. “You’re beautiful and you seem very intelligent. And … ” He leaned in closer, invading all her space now. “You smell amazing.”
Annoyance flared with discomfort and she was jerking back, twisting her body simultaneously until she’d ducked out of his reach, away from the restricting wall of his presence and stood free of him.
She glowered. “You did not just do that.”
His eyes widened. “What—”
Sophie put her hand up. “No, no! You don’t get to speak. You’re going to listen. This.” She gestured up and down to all of him. “Does nothing for me. You do nothing for me. In fact, you ever think about hitting on me again, I’ll dropkick you back to Aimee. Yeah, remember her? Your girlfriend? So, if you’re smart, you’re going to get your creepy self out of my face.” She turned on her heels, took two steps, skidded to a halt, whipped back around and pointed. “Oh, and in case my words aren’t registering.” She stalked right back up to him, stabbed him in the chest with her finger, satisfied when he winced. “I’m Spencer’s. I pick Spencer. I will always pick Spencer. You, you’re just a sick, twisted jerk trying to mac on young girls. Keep away!”
Satisfied when his face blanched, she whipped on her heels and marched home.
Chapter Twenty-One
She made it all the way home in a storm of fury before realizing she was supposed to wait for Spencer. She paused on the porch, deliberating between going back and simply meeting up with Spencer later. She settled for the latter. Seeing that jerk again was not on her fun list. Plus her mind was already made up to never hurt Spencer by telling him about Jamie. That was something she would let die with her. He need never know what a douche his brother really was.
Inside, her mother was in the sitting room, a paperback open in her hands. Sophie avoided the bare chested pirate on the front, holding up a woman with a serious wardrobe malfunction and focused on her mother.
“Hey!” she said in greeting.
“Hi honey,” her mother answered almost absentmindedly. “School good?” She never looked away from the page nearly pressed to her nose.
“It was decent.”
“Okay. That’s great!” her mother said dreamily, waving a hand.
Sophie snickered and started upstairs. In her room, she quickly dumped her backpack and jacket on the bed and reclined next to them. Maybe a quick nap before she tracked down Spencer and asked what he wanted to tell her. But no sooner had her eyes closed and the warm fingers of sleep crept over her when her mother’s voice penetrated the dreamy bubble. It popped and her eyes were wide open, staring at the ceiling. She lay still as she listened to see if she’d imagined the holler of her name. Sure enough, a second later, her mother’s voice floated from below, followed by, “Spencer’s here to see you!”
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell her she’d call him later, but decided against it. Sleeping now was a bad idea anyway. She’d be up for the rest of the night if she did, screwing with her sleep pattern. She promised herself a cold shower once she’d talked with Spencer.
True to her mother’s summoning, Spencer stood in the doorway looking very out of place with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders up to his ears. He was avoiding all glances in her mother’s direction, but that was probably because she was still reading her romance novel. Sophie had never seen someone look so relieved at the sight of her.
“Hey!” he said.
She suppressed a smile. “Kitchen?”
His gaze darted to her mother, then back to her. “Yeah.”
“No, no.” Her mother folded her bookmark into place and closed her book. She rose to her feet. “I’ll just go finish this up in my room.”
Neither spoke while they watched her hurry up the stairs.
Chuckling quietly, Sophie turned to Spencer. “Sorry you had to see that.” She went to take her mother’s spot on the sofa. “Want to sit?
He hesitated, no longer looking uncertain, but pensive like there was a thought rolling around in his head he didn’t want to disturb. His eyes were on her, fixed, narrowed with deliberation and Sophie wondered if he was upset about her abandoning when she promised to wait for him. She started to apologize, to make up an excuse, but he was moving, making his way slowly towards her. He joined her, lowering himself almost gingerly into the cushion.
“I’m sorry I left. I was—”
The grab of her elbow, the sharp twist of her body and then the hard shove back into the armrest was a very small shock compared to the weight of his hard body pressing into hers as he captured her mouth. His fingers stole into her hair, curling and fisting while he ravaged her mouth as though his very existence depended on it.
“Spencer!” Panting and wheezing, Sophie broke the attack. “What—?”
He brushed another kiss to her moving mouth, th
is one soft and feather light. He pressed another to her chin, her nose, her cheeks, her eyelids, before returning to her lips, each one softer than the last. His fingers curled into her sides, anchoring her to the spot, to him. His heat wafted around them, warm tendrils that seeped into her skin, burning her up.
“What was that?” she asked when he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against hers.
His mouth opened, closed and then opened again, but no sound emerged. He peered anxiously into her eyes, searching for something she couldn’t understand.
“Hey.” She pressed her palm lightly to his face. “You okay?”
His eyes closed, but not before she saw the look of pure anguish in them.
“Spence?”
His eyes opened. “Come over tonight?” It was such an unusual tone, pleading, hesitant, not the usual confidence he normally portrays.
Sophie nodded. “Yeah, okay. Are you sure you’re all right? You’re kind of … ” The rest of her words lodged in her throat when he turned his head and kissed the palm resting on his cheek. Her heart stuttered then sped up as he nuzzled it with the tip of his nose, sending electric shivers racing up her arm. His kisses trailed to the inside of her wrist, nipping lightly on the hammering little pulse, before lifting off to settle on her lips.
The kiss was beautiful. It wasn’t hot and passionate like all the other times, but slow and sweet as if every inch of his heart was being poured into every delicate motion of his mouth. Beneath her hands, his heart crashed in his chest, matching the sharp tempo of hers as she pulled him down with her into a reclined position. The world around them swam with a dizzying surge of colors. The sofa seemingly melted away, leaving them floating in the swirling vortex. Sophie lifted one hand off his chest to curl around the back of his neck, keeping him to her as she returned every second of that kiss.
Lost in an endless terrain of time, neither heard the click of the door opening. They jerked to their feet in surprise, turning to face her father’s irate scowl. Sophie felt heat swell up in her face as she quickly tried to right her clothes and tame her hair.
Games of Fire Page 24