Games of Fire

Home > Contemporary > Games of Fire > Page 26
Games of Fire Page 26

by Airicka Phoenix


  “Unfair? It’s crazy!”

  He waved a hand dismissively. “My point is, cool the hormones. The last thing I need is anymore gray hairs, or grandchildren.”

  Her sharp intake of air propelled a spitball back into her throat, choking her. She doubled over, hacking and coughing. The spoon tumbled out of the bowl in her hand. It hit the laminate with a noisy clutter.

  When she finally managed to calm down, she set the bowl down on the table, picked up the spoon, set it on the table as well and faced her father. “Who said anything about grandchildren? We’re not having sex and if we were—”

  “Ahh!”

  She ignored the rapid shake of his head and the wave of his hands by plunging on. “I do know a thing or two about protection! I do sometimes listen when you guys tell me stuff, like how to have safe—”

  Her father made a face between torture and regret. “We’re not having this talk!” He rose quickly to his feet, gathering his briefcase from beneath the table. “That is your mother’s department. My department is beating the stuffing out of that boy if … well, for a great number of reasons. One of them being me becoming a grandfather at my young age. Now, I’m late.” He hurried over to her, kissed her forehead. “Don’t make me break his legs, okay? Have a good day at school.”

  “I’m not an idiot!” she yelled after him as he hurried out of the kitchen. She turned to her mother. “What the hell was that?”

  Sipping her tea leisurely while watching the show with amusement dancing in her eyes, her mother shrugged. “Your father coming to terms with reality.”

  Her bizarre morning conversation followed her down her walkway. She was so lost in thought she narrowly missed the figure standing by the fence dividing her yard from Spencer’s.

  “You look conflicted.”

  Sophie jumped, spinning around. “Geez! Why are you always sneaking up on me?”

  Spencer pushed away from the fence and ambled over to her, looking ridiculously gorgeous in his black jeans and cargo jacket with his hair falling into his eyes. “Because you’re easy to sneak up on.” He joined her on the sidewalk. “What are you thinking so hard about?”

  They started towards school.

  “You told me my dad didn’t give you a hard time the night he stayed with you at your house.”

  He raised an eyebrow at her accusing tone. “No I didn’t. I said everything was fine.”

  “You said you didn’t talk!”

  He shook his head. “I said it was quiet.”

  “Quiet means there was no talking involved!”

  He stopped walking and turned to her. “What’s up? Is your dad still pissed about us kissing?”

  Sophie exhaled. “I just got the weirdest lecture from him.” She rubbed a hand over her face. “What did he say to you?”

  His shoulder moved in a shrug. “The usual; school, cars, my plans for the future. Normal stuff.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You guys didn’t talk about me at all?”

  He jostled his backpack higher. “You might have come up. What’s this about?”

  She considered telling him, but decided against it. “Nothing. I think my dad is just getting super paranoid.”

  They continued walking.

  “He just worries about you,” he murmured quietly. “He doesn’t want you to get hurt. He’s a good guy.”

  Sophie started to tell him she already knew that but realized there was more to that statement than the obvious. She slanted him a glance from the corner of her eye, a little surprised to find his head down, his shoulders hunched up by his ears. It took her a moment to figure out why and she instantly felt like the biggest idiot to be standing there, complaining about her father, when his had left him and his mother for another woman. She couldn’t imagine what he must have gone through from that experience alone. Aimee hadn’t been the only one to betray him, to hurt and abandon him. He’d said before that it wasn’t just Aimee that kept him from trusting. Aimee had played a huge part, but his own father had ripped Spencer’s world apart. Sophie didn’t know Janice, but from what Spencer had said, she’d been a solid fixture in their household, someone he had trusted and grown up with.

  “Spencer.” She took his hand, pulling him to a stop.

  He raised his head and fixed his gaze on hers. She peered into his silvery eyes and lost the ability to formulate words of comfort. She knew she was horrible at them anyway. Anything she said now would be an attempt at humor and that wasn’t what he needed.

  Instead, she reached for him, sliding her hands up his arms to encircle his shoulders. It was a bold move. Part of her expected him to push her away as he once had, and she expected it even more when his muscles tensed against her. Her own body stiffened in uncertainty. She began to draw away.

  “No.” His palms pressed into her lower back, compressing her body into his. His soft exhalation whispered over her upturned face. A single raindrop struck her cheek, drawing a small smile from him as he smoothed a thumb over the spot, wiping it away and making the area feel warm and tingly. “What was that look?”

  Mind blissfully numb from his touch, it took her a moment to formulate words. “What?”

  “You were looking at me funny a second ago.”

  She stared at him for a minute, not understanding. Then it hit her. “Oh!” She dropped her gaze, embarrassed at having been so open with her features. “It was nothing.”

  “No, it was something.” He nudged beneath her chin with a finger. “Tell me.”

  Giving a sigh, she looked up. “I just thought you were going to push me away.”

  Pain fluttered over his face. “I won’t.” His hand slid down her arm to curl around her fingers. He raised her hand and lightly rested her palm against his cheek. “You can touch me all you want.”

  She swallowed hard. “That sounds kind of pervy.”

  Spencer blinked, surprised. Then his riotous laughter rolled through the deserted street. He drew her closer into his warmth, his chest rumbling with his low chuckles as he placed his face against hers. “You’re such a strange girl,” he murmured into her cheek.

  But I still made you laugh, she thought, silently pleased with herself as she tucked her face into the curve of his neck.

  He smelled incredible, warm and spicy with a slight hint of fabric softener. She closed her eyes, injecting him into her system.

  They continued to stand that way for what felt like an eternity before she finally pulled away and smiled when he took her hand.

  “Should get to school,” he murmured, threading his fingers through hers

  She nodded, rolling her eyes. “Yes, I’d hate to miss Algebra II.”

  He laughed, giving her a gentle tug forward.

  They walked as if there was nothing new about their sides bumping with every step. Several times, Sophie had to repress the urge to rest her head on his shoulder, which surprised her. Everything was so backwards. Before he accepted her into his life, touching him had been natural and fluid. She never had to consider it really. But now that he’d given her the green light, she felt timid, unsure, as if she were breaking some kind of rule by giving in to the temptation.

  She was saved from having to make the decision when they reached the school. He walked her to her locker and waited as she gathered her books for the next two classes.

  “I’ll see you at lunch?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I’ll be there.” She hesitated, picking at a torn corner of her textbook. “Save me a seat?” She raised her eyes to his face.

  He was watching her intently. “I will.” With a kiss to her cheek, he walked away, leaving her to face Algebra II on her own.

  At lunch, she dropped her things off at her locker, grabbed her lunch bag and hurried to the cafeteria. It was nearly completely full by the time she got there and she had to squeeze her way through the thick crowd packed around the door, shoving and making their way to the front counter and the questionable food. No one paid her any mind as she stumbled into the throng of t
ables and searched for a pair of gray eyes.

  She found him immediately. He sat between Lauren and an empty spot she was pretty sure was for her. He had his head down, occupied by the tray of burger and fries in front of him. But that didn’t last when, seemingly out of the blue, a figure bound forward and slipped in beside him. His head came up just as Sophie stiffened.

  Maggie Chow hooped her arm through his. Her glossy pink lips moved animatedly as she chattered on about something that was swallowed by the buzz around them. She smiled up at him, her big, brown eyes sparkling.

  Spencer looked absolutely dumbfounded, like he had no idea what just happened or who this person was suddenly latched on to his side like an overgrown monkey. He tried to pry his arm free of her grip, but she just hung on, still talking, oblivious to his escape attempts. He said something to her that had a look of confusion passing over her face. Her smile vanished and her eyebrows furrowed. Spencer kept talking, pointing to her or maybe the spot she was in. Maggie blinked, jerking back as though he’d shoved her. Then, like some demon in a movie, her face transformed into one of livid rage. Sophie had never seen that shade of red, but it colored Maggie’s normally tan complexion. Her lips formed a line so thin, it was a white slash. Then, as if she had known all along where Sophie had been, her gaze snapped over to her, narrowing dangerously. If looks could kill, regenerate and then kill again, that would have been the look. Sophie nearly shuddered. But she had no time to. Spencer followed Maggie’s enraged stare and stiffened.

  It took her the ten steps from her spot to the table to realize, Maggie had known all along she’d been standing there and that the spot next to Spencer had been for her. Sophie felt two simultaneous emotions surge through her, annoyance and a hot wave of jealousy. It took a great amount of force not to march over and snarl at the girl to take her hands off Spencer.

  “Hey!” she said with a whole lot more calm than she felt.

  Spencer was the one who answered with a hesitant, “Hey!”

  Not really sure what the protocol was for this particular situation, Sophie glanced down the length of the full table, searching for an empty spot, since it became apparent Maggie had no intention of moving. But at the same time … her gaze shot back to Maggie, annoyance pronounced now.

  “You’re in my spot.”

  Face upturned smugly, Maggie swept a strip of sleek hair off her shoulder with a dainty flick of her wrist. “I didn’t see your name on it.”

  Wow! Are we five again? She wondered.

  “No, it’s okay,” Spencer said, surprising both of them. He rose up and swung one leg over his seat. He sat back down, straddling the bench. “Here,” he said, patting the V between his legs.

  There wasn’t very much room, which meant she would be pressed completely into him. Heat swept into Sophie’s face as she realized his implication, but she set her lunch down on the table and straddled the spot in front of him, facing Lauren, who grinned. She started to return the smile when Spencer’s arm snaked around her middle from behind, dragging her back, closing every inch of space dividing them until she had no choice but to lean into his chest.

  “Comfy?” he murmured hoarsely into her ear.

  Suppressing a shiver, Sophie nodded, not sure how to tell him she had the best damn seat in the place. Instead, she rested her hand over the one he had on her abdomen and wove her fingers through his.

  “I didn’t ask her to sit there,” he told her quietly. “I tried to tell her I was saving the spot.”

  “I know,” she said. “I saw.”

  “Not upset?”

  She chuckled, shaking her head. “I got a much better seat in the end anyway.”

  She felt him smile against her temple. “Who is she?” Spencer asked, genuinely puzzled.

  Sophie stiffened. She turned her head to peer into his face, certain he was joking. “Serious?”

  He looked at her blankly, gave a small, uncertain shrug, followed by the shake of his head. “I told you, up until you, the female race had ceased to exist to me.”

  Sophie laughed, remembering his confusion before when she’d thrown Maggie Chow in his face. He really had never noticed her, Maggie Chow, one of the most popular girls in school.

  Out of sheer giddy delight, Sophie kissed him like the world was ending and he was heading off to fight aliens. When she pulled away, his eyes were dark and dangerous, and memories of their picnic in his living room floated through her mind, bringing with it a fresh wave of flush rushing through her. The tremor was harder to conceal this time and she was rewarded by the tightening of his arm and the strategic placement of his other hand on her thigh. She bit her lip to keep from making a sound.

  “You better eat your lunch,” he half snarled. The hand on her stomach drifted upwards to rest over her ribcage, just high enough to make every nerve ending in her body whimper.

  “Should the rest of us clear out or what?” Lauren said. “Because it’s becoming uncomfortably R-rated at this table.”

  Sophie blushed, feeling the heat all the way down to her tingling toes.

  Spencer grinned down at her lopsidedly. “I like the clearing out idea,” he murmured just for her ear, but returned his hand to her abdomen and removed the hand on her thigh to reach for a fry.

  Sophie had to bottle the whine tickling the back of her throat as she fumbled to open her lunch bag. She raised her head to peer at the figure across from her and jolted in surprise.

  “Joe!” Her elated exclamation was met with a dark glower from over the top of his open Math book. His knuckles were white around the battered text. Sophie tried to ignore the weight of guilt crushing her chest. “I brought your favorite today—”

  But she never got to give him the egg sandwich. He shot to his feet, slammed his book closed and stormed from the cafeteria as if his life was in jeopardy if he stayed.

  Horrified, Sophie turned to Lauren and Jessie, both who were trying so hard to pretend like they hadn’t noticed.

  “What did I do?” she demanded.

  Jessie’s lower lip trembled and there were red splotches on her face as if she were trying not to cry.

  Lauren poked her tiny container of salad dressing with a baby carrot a few times, but didn’t seem overly anxious to eat it. She slammed the unsuspecting vegetable down unexpectedly and turned to her. “Come on, So! You’re not stupid. Think.”

  Sophie had no idea what she was talking about.

  Lauren exhaled sharply when Sophie just kept staring at her, seemingly waiting for the answer to materialize across Lauren’s face. “Girl … ” Her gaze shot over Sophie’s shoulder then away. “Never mind.”

  “No!” Sophie grabbed Lauren’s arm, stopping her from returning to her celery sticks and baby carrots. “Tell me!”

  “It’s fine,” Spencer said from behind her, reminding her he was still there.

  Lauren shook her head, rolling her eyes heavenward, silently begging for patience. “Girl, the dude has liked you since like the second grade!” she said, glancing at Sophie’s stunned expression.

  “Joe? No!”

  “Yes!” Lauren insisted. “Why do you think he even comes to the cafeteria? You know he hates it here.”

  Sophie shook her head. “Because he’s our friend? Because he likes sitting with us?”

  “Yeah, we’re friends, but the guy loves you.”

  Sophie turned her head to stare at Spencer. “You knew?”

  He looked away. “It wasn’t hard to guess.”

  Was she the only stupid one that hadn’t seen it? How could she have missed something like that? The whole thing seemed ludicrous to her. Joe was like a brother. She had never once ever felt a spark for him, never looked at him as anything more. Had she given him some kind of impression that there could possibly be something between them? Had she strung him along? Was she really one of those clueless girls she’d read about and hated?

  “I have to go talk to him,” she said, climbing to her feet. She turned to Spencer, who was looking down at her
feet. “I’ll see you in Chem?”

  He just nodded.

  Sophie wanted to tell him more, but she grabbed her untouched lunch and hurried to find her friend.

  She found him in the band room, as she expected. It irritated her that she knew everything about him, his favorite foods, favorite colors, his hobbies, wants and likes and dislikes. She knew everything about his past and knew what he wanted for the future, but she had been completely oblivious to his feelings towards her until she walked into the room and his eyes met hers.

  The pain and anguish and anger struck her like a fist in the gut. She wanted to kick herself for not seeing it sooner, for not being more careful. She wouldn’t have been so openly affectionate with Spencer if she had known how much it would hurt Joe, because whatever happened, he would always be her best friend. They had too much history for anything else.

  “Hey,” she whispered, edging closer to him, hating how hesitant she felt.

  He popped the latches on his bass guitar and pulled the instrument from its bed of red velvet. “Hey.”

  She swallowed hard. “Can we talk?”

  He slung the strap over his shoulder. “What about?”

  He wasn’t going to make this easy, she realized. “You know what, Joe.”

  His hazel eyes rose up and met hers. “Doesn’t matter.”

  “How can you say that?” Tears prickled behind her eyes. “Of course it matters. You’re my best friend! I would never hurt you, you know that. I love you!”

  He gave a vicious strum of the strings, making them hum loudly between them. “But you’re not in love with me.”

  Sophie bit her lip, trying and failing to redirect the tears as she shook her head. “You’re like a brother to me, Joe.”

  His laugh was short and brittle, like ice encrusted twigs under careless feet. “Stupid me.”

  “No—!”

  “It’s my fault,” he muttered, staring down at his guitar. “I’m always too slow. Maybe if I’d made my move sooner, tried harder to show you how I felt, you wouldn’t be making the biggest mistake of your life.”

 

‹ Prev