He grinned ever so slightly. “Awesome. I’ll see you later then.”
She walked him to the front door and waved him off before barreling upstairs for that much needed shower. She dressed quickly. She brushed out her hair and left it to curl naturally down her back while she grabbed up her phone and texted Lauren.
“Where r u?”
It took only seconds for Lauren to respond with, “Home. Where r u?”
“Home, but going out.”
“???”
She hesitated, not sure why. It wasn’t as if Lauren would judge or tell her she was being nuts, although she probably needed it. She just wasn’t sure how to explain things with Spencer. It was so strange, so new. It wasn’t as if they were even together. He’d made it clear he didn’t want a relationship, which completely confused her after the kiss they’d shared, because her mother was right. There had been nothing appropriate about that kiss. They’d gone on a date, he’d said so himself. He was now inviting her over to hang out and watch a movie.
Her phone vibrated in her hand, reminding her Lauren was waiting for a response.
“Hello!”
Sophie sighed. She dialed Lauren’s number. If anyone could help sort out this mess she’d gotten herself into, it was her friend.
“’Sup!” Lauren greeted after the first ring. “How was garage cleaning?”
Sophie faltered before answering, “Fine.”
A moment of pause before Lauren spoke again. “Okay, what’s up?”
Sophie sighed, dropping down on her bed. “I think I’m in trouble.”
“Holy crapcicles! You’re pregnant!” Lauren’s screech had her arm jerking away, wielding the phone a safe, non-lethal distance from her ear. “Who? Who did it? I’ll kill him!”
“Oh my God, Lauren!” She had to scream over her friend’s irate ranting to be heard. “I’m not pregnant!”
Lauren paused, but only for a split of a second. “Are you sure, because I got my ass kicking boots on right now and we can flatten him.”
As touched as she was by her friend’s thoughtfulness, Sophie couldn’t help prodding at the dull throb chiseling into her temple. “Lauren, I promise. It’s nothing like that.”
“What then?”
She sighed, using the tips of her fingers to rub her brow, wishing she could rub out the headache just as simply. In ten minutes flat, she told Lauren everything. From the moment she’d met Spencer, to him giving her his jacket and telling her to come over for pizza. Lauren never interrupted. She listened, making appropriate noises when necessary. She gasped when Sophie got to the kiss at the restaurant, but continued to not interrupt until Sophie finished.
“So now I have no idea what he’s doing or what I’m doing,” Sophie moaned.
“Girl, that is all some seriously juicy details you’ve been keeping from your bestie! Not. Cool.”
Sophie groaned. “It wasn’t deliberate or anything! I just don’t know what to do or how to even make sense of this.”
“Well, it’s pretty straightforward isn’t it?”
Sophie frowned. “How do you figure?”
Lauren huffed, exasperated. “It’s obvious how he feels about you! The guy is on his head, totally and completely gone over you, but he’s been hurt and doesn’t want that again.”
“But I would never hurt him!”
Lauren sighed again. Sophie could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “Sophie,” she said sternly. “You read more than anyone I know. How many times have you read where the heroine has been hurt by someone and doesn’t want anyone near her?”
At least thirty different books popped into mind, but she didn’t say so. Something told her this was a rhetorical question.
Lauren continued. “Okay, so what happened in every single one of those books?”
Sophie didn’t have to think about it. “She meets a boy who helps her see that not everyone is the same.”
“Exactly! Now take all those stories and reverse them. The guy is hurt. This chick seriously messed him up. You just need to prove to him that you’re not like her.”
“Lauren, you do know those books are all fiction, right? As in not real.”
Lauren pfft’d. “Girl, please! You already have the guy crazy about you. You just need to convince his head that his heart isn’t wrong. But don’t let him talk you into anything you don’t want to do. Be strong and remember, just because he doesn’t want to be in a relationship, doesn’t mean he doesn’t want a piece of your pie. So, wear something nice and go over there. Then tell me about it tomorrow at church.”
The line went dead before Sophie could say anything else, before she could even ask how things had gone at the cabin. She stared at the phone, replaying her conversation with Lauren in her mind.
As crazy as Lauren was, her logic made sense. It was the part about convincing Spencer to take the chance that had her pressing a hand to her queasy abdomen.
A soft knock interrupted her one-person dive into hysteria. Her mom poked her head inside.
“Going somewhere with the girls? I heard you talking to Lauren,” she added when Sophie eyed her with surprise.
For the second time in minutes, Sophie stared down at the phone still in her hand. “Uh, no. Not with … ” she trailed off, licking her lips. “I’m going to Spencer’s.” She lifted her gaze to catch her mother’s reaction. It was as she expected, surprised, wary. She plunged on quickly. “I have to return his jacket and he asked me over to watch movies. His mom will be there and he did help with the garage!” she added, knowing her mother’s need to be a good neighbor would overrule all other thoughts inside her head, although the part about Jackie being there was a mere guess on Sophie’s part.
Her mother frowned. “I want you back before midnight.” She left before Sophie could respond, closing the door behind her.
Sophie exhaled.
She gathered her things, mainly Spencer’s jacket, her phone and keys. She grabbed a jacket for herself even though it was much more tempting to wear his again. Her mother was in the living room when she hurried downstairs. She was flipping aimlessly through the channels, muttering about season finales and how stupid they were.
“I’ll see you later, mom!” she called, practically running to the door before she could be stopped.
“Don’t be late!” Her mother’s words were snipped in half with the closing of the door behind Sophie.
Sophie ducked her head and ran through the rain towards the house next door, completely missing the figure sitting in the parked car across the street.
Chapter Fourteen
The door to Spencer’s house flew open before her feet even touched the front steps. Spencer stood in the doorway, bathed in the soft, yellow light of the hallway. He held the door open for her, closing it behind her once she was engulfed in the warmth of the house.
“It’s horrible out there!” she gasped, shaking the rain from her hair and jacket. “I swear if it doesn’t stop raining soon, we’ll all float away.”
Spencer snorted a chuckle, taking his jacket from her, then her jacket when she shrugged out of it. He took both to the closet and hung them up.
Further down the hall, a soft buzzing drew her attention. She glanced towards the living room to find Jackie leaning forward on the sofa, face blotchy with tears as she stared wide-eyed at the TV. Next to her, looking bored was Suzy. The girl had her arms folded over her chest and she slouched so far down that she looked like she was sliding off.
“Is she all right?” Sophie asked, gesturing to his mother.
Spencer followed her gaze and nodded. “She’s watching Little House on the Prairie reruns. She’ll be at it for the rest of the night.”
“Oh.” She tried and failed to conceal her disappointment. “So the movie idea is a no go?”
Spencer shook his head. “We can watch TV upstairs.” But he led her into the kitchen. “Mom wouldn’t let me order pizza. She said I needed real food.” She giggled when he rolled his eyes. “You don’t mind, d
o you?”
Sophie stared at the pots neatly lined on the stove and shook her head. “No, I don’t mind. What is it?” Because there was no smell coming from them. Didn’t food normally give off a smell?
Spencer winced. “Mom can’t cook.” He leaned in close, startling her into freezing like a deer in headlights as his scent washed over her. “I’ll make us something else. But shh. Don’t tell.”
Tell? She couldn’t even think.
“Okay,” she squeaked.
He pulled away much too quickly and crossed to the freezer. He yanked open the door and fished inside. “Allergies?” he asked suddenly, pulling out a box.
“Pineapples,” she answered, moving to stand beside him as he tore the top off a microwaveable dinner. She laughed. “Good choice. Nothing’s touching.”
His mouth turned downward in a teasing scowl. He flicked her gently on the nose. “Back off, brat.” He nudged her aside as he reached for the knobs on the stove.
“How are things with your mom?” she asked, keeping her voice low.
The amusement faded from his eyes. He leaned back against the counter, folding his arms over his chest. “The insurance place is closed over the weekend. She’s going to call them Monday.”
Sophie nodded slowly. “That’s cool.”
He exhaled, pushing away and moving towards the door. “Come on. We have to wait for the oven to preheat.”
“You know the whole point of microwavable meals is the beauty of not having to wait, right? You just pop them into the microwave.”
He slanted her arched eyebrow glower that contradicted the grin on his mouth. “I don’t like soggy food.”
“No soggy food. No food touching each other. Is there anything else I should know about your eating habits?”
He snorted a laugh, poking her in the side. “You’re such a pain.”
Sophie snickered. “Yeah, I know.”
She followed him back into the short foyer, pausing at the bottom of the stairs. She glanced at Spencer. Realizing she wasn’t following him up the steps, he stopped and glanced back.
“I should say hi to your mom,” she said. “I’ll meet you up there.”
He nodded. “Second door on the left.”
With a nod that she understood, she walked down the narrow hall to where Jackie was sniffling into a wad of tissue. Careful not to startle the pair, Sophie stopped in the doorway.
“Hello!”
Suzy didn’t budge, but her lips turned down further at the corners. She stared at the screen a little too hard to be paying attention. Her deliberate avoidance didn’t faze Sophie.
Jackie blinked, her lashes clinging together, clumpy with mascara gunk. Her blue eyes were ringed black, raccoon style. She looked like a kid in her jeans and fluffy sweater, her hair swept back in a ponytail.
“Sophia!” She rubbed at her nose with the tissue. “I didn’t hear the door. Is everything all right?”
Sophie nodded, not sure what Spencer had told his mother about that evening’s plans. “I’m watching a movie with Spencer.”
Jackie blinked again as if this bit of information confused her. “Oh! He must have forgotten to mention … ” She trailed off, clearing her throat. She smiled. “Never mind. You know you’re always welcome here!”
Sophie smiled. “Thank you.”
But Jackie’s attention had reverted back to the screen. She sniffled, her bottom lip trembling. “I’ve seen this show a million times, but this part … ” Her voice broke. “Poor Mary.”
Sophie, who had never watched the show, could only nod sympathetically before excusing herself politely and slipping quietly from the room.
Her feet made no sound as she ascended the stairs to the top. The cream colored carpet sprawled down a narrow hall with two doors on either side and another door at the very end that opened into a bathroom. Sophie followed Spencer’s instructions and walked to the second door on the left and peered inside.
The room was painted a tropical blue that popped with the white of the ceiling and the trim. Gently used furniture in glossy oak took up most of the room, really bringing out the color. It took only one glance for her to realize this wasn’t a spare sitting room or a rec room. It was probably the massive bed taking up most of the place or the dresser, the posters, the pictures and trophies, but it came to her real quick that this was his bedroom. She was in his bedroom. She was about to watch a movie with him in his room, possibly on the bed because there was nowhere else to sit.
Holy poopcicles.
The boy in question stood with his back to her, shuffling through a stack of DVDs, oblivious of her building hysteria. He looked so comfortable in his private place, in his chamber of solitude where he slept and dressed and did all his daily things.
Unconsciously, her gaze flickered to the bed. No way was she going to be able to get comfortable to watch anything while sitting on his bed … with him.
Maybe she could make a run for it. She could escape now before he even knew she was there. All she had to do was take two steps back, turn and …
“Oh hey!” He caught sight of her before she could follow through and bolt.
Crap!
“Hey!” The single word came out high pitched and shrill.
His eyebrows shot up. “You okay?”
Distrusting her ability so speak again, Sophie nodded.
“You going to come inside?”
The bed pulled her eyes again, sending hot fingers of heat creeping into her face, burning behind her eyes. She swallowed hard, rubbing the sweat off her palms across her thighs. Her mind worked overtime, shouting at her the pros and cons of what she was about to do, but she had to do something fast. He was watching her, waiting.
She took one step in, then another, her movement almost robotic.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“No! I mean yes! I’m okay. I just … ” She sucked in a lungful of air. “I’m okay.”
He looked doubtful, but amused. “Okay. Here.” He pushed the stack of movies at her. “You pick.”
She took them from him, grateful for something to do other than stand there like an idiot. She was doing pretty well too, flipping through each one, until she saw him walk over to the bed and stretch out across the dark sheets, a beautiful banquet. It took a little more effort after that to focus, to not let her fingers tremble or her eyes to stray over to him.
He sat propped against a mound of pillows, hands folded beneath his head as if he had not a care in the world. His feet were crossed at the ankles and his shirt had ridden up, revealing a thin strip of flesh between the hem and his waistband.
“This!” she blurted, randomly selecting one without looking.
He leapt off the bed and ambled over to her. She was careful not to let their fingers touch when he took the DVD from her.
He looked it over, looked at her, lifted an eyebrow. “Serious?”
Trying not to fidget, Sophie frowned. “Of course!”
His gaze dropped to the cover again. His teeth caught his bottom lip. “Okay.” Something in the way he said it, oooook, all doubtful and surprised, made her want to snatch it back from him, but he was moving away to the plasma TV mounted over a squat bookshelf stacked with a stereo, game systems, DVD player and comics.
She watched him slip the disk into the machine, watched the machine swallow it, never once seeing the title.
Spencer turned to her, case still in his hand. “I’m going to put our food in the oven.” He grinned. “Feel free to browse. I keep all the really good reading material under the mattress.” He laughed when she gasped. “I’m joking!” He walked to the door. “Maybe!” Then he was out of sight, leaving Sophie staring after him, not sure how serious to take him. Her gaze shot to the bed for the hundredth time, wondering.
She walked to the opposite side of the room, away from the temptation to check. She wandered over to the bookcase next to the closet and looked over the titles, surprised to find several she recognized. She roamed over to the spi
nning CD rack, but recognized nothing there. She was peering over his many athletic accomplishments when he returned.
“Why don’t you play anymore?” she asked, gesturing to a soccer trophy.
He shrugged, moving to stand beside her. “My dad was into the whole sports thing. After the divorce, I decided I didn’t want to play anymore.”
“You were very good,” she murmured, reading the gold plaques.
He moved away. “The food’ll be ready in thirty minutes. We can start the movie or do something else while we wait.”
Sophie turned away from the shelf to face him. “We could play a game.” She gestured to the multiple systems lined neatly along the shelf.
His eyes narrowed. “You play?”
Sophie couldn’t help but bark a laugh. “Ha! No, not even a little, but I’m a fast learner. If you’re up for it?”
His lips twitched. “You’re on.”
Playing against him proved to be a very bad idea. She had no idea what she was doing and spent more time than not lost in the maze. Several times, she killed herself by falling down a dark hole or getting eaten by giant spiders. A few times, she had to give Spencer her controller so he could get her out of a trap. But he never complained or lost his patience, not that it stopped him from rubbing it in.
“Admit defeat?” he teased thirty minutes later as he dropped down his controller and rose to his feet.
Sophie sulked. “I was only letting you win.”
He laughed, leaving her to sit and scowl at the screen as he hurried off to get their food.
Her tailbone throbbed as she struggled off the ground, using the footboard of the bed as leverage. She wondered if they would be sitting on the floor throughout the movie as well, and partially hoped not. But then again, she wasn’t looking forward to sitting on his bed either.
She was still standing, staring at his bed when he returned with a tray laden with two microwave dinners, a six pack of Coke, a bowl of chips and a bottle of water. He set everything down gently on the bed and turned to her.
“You look like you’re going to pass out.”
Games of Fire Page 16
