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She turns over in my arms. “I’m not high maintenance, Nate. You’ve been a great friend all night. That’s alreadyearning it.”
Fuck, it’s tempting. The way she smirks at me, the scent of sweet fruit and flowers, and the way her hips swing every time she walks away from me, was enough motivation. But feeling her soft, warm body against mine has me craving my assistant at ten times the intensity.
I roll her back over, punctuating my rejection with a sweet kiss to her temple. “Be high maintenance, Spencer. Don’t settle for what you can get. Demand what you’re worth. Now go to sleep.”
She makes a joke about being unable to sleep with my massive weaponry poking her in the back. I’m sporting a partial, so if she thinks that’s massive, she’s going to be unnerved when I let go of self-control and she really sees what she does to me in its entirety.
In only a few minutes, she’s breathing deeply, chest rising and falling in a pattern.
“You awake?” I whisper. Trying to gauge if she’s faking slumber, I trace the curves of her body from her shoulder, down the slope of her waist, over the curve of her hip. She doesn’t even flinch. Assured she’s sleeping deeply and won’t hear me, I part her hair around her ear and rest my lips right by her earlobe. “Spencer, it scares me how much I already like you.”
20
Nathan
Islowly pry open my eyelids, feeling the warmth of the bright, morning sun pouring in through the plastic blinds. Spencer’s still in my arms. We’re both a little damp with sweat. I remember it being hot last night. We kicked off the covers but were apparently unwilling to let each other go.
Carefully, I pull my arm out from under her, trying my best not to jostle her. I don’t think it matters. She’s sleeping like the dead.
Her mouth is open as she silently sucks in heaps of air. Her big hair is disheveled in every direction, making it look like she’s sleeping underneath a mop. She slept in her makeup, so her eyeliner is smeared and her blush has faded from rubbing against the pillow.
She’d probably hate me to see her like this, but I stare because it’s beautiful. She’s sleeping so hard because she felt safe with me last night.
Rolling over, I reach for my phone. It’s still early. Seven on a Saturday morning. I should lie back down, but I need to make a few calls. First my dad. Then the lawyers. Finally, The OrchidSpa. It’s a luxury spa that Dawn loves. I get her a gift card every year for her birthday.
I pull on my pants but leave my belt behind. I don’t want the clanking to disturb Spencer. I’m pushing my arms through my dress shirt as I sneak out of the bedroom and take the two steps to the living room.
“Oh, hello,” I say when I see an unsuspecting girl sitting at the kitchen table with a giant bowl of cereal.
Her jaw drops as she peels off her bright blue headphones with rainbow-colored cat ears. She pauses whatever’s on her cell phone and closes the scrapbook sitting next to her.
“Hi,” she squeaks.
I button up my shirt faster than humanly possible. Thank fuck I had the good sense to put my pants on before coming out here. I almost forgot Spencer and I weren’t alone.
“Charlie, right?”
She nods and points at me. “You’re my sister’s grumpy boss, right?”
I grin. “Or feel free to call me Nate.”
We both stare in awkward silence for a beat. I actually consider fleeing back into the bedroom right before Charlie breaks the ice.
“I have a little left of the good cereal. I was going to have another bowl but you can have it if you want,” she offers.
I near her, examining her cereal-dyed milk. I smell the sickeningly sweet scent of fake fruit. “Fruit Loops?”
She makes a disgusted face. “Trix with marshmallows, you animal.”
“I’m an animal for liking Fruit Loops? They’re the same thing.”
“So wrong,” she mutters under her breath before hopping up to fetch me a cereal bowl and spoon. Do I want children’s cereal this morning? Not remotely. But I’d be a fool not to seethis for what it is. An offering, but not of food, of friendship. I’d be willing to bet every penny in my bank account that if Charlie doesn’t approve of me, Spencer’s interest will dwindle quickly.
Charlie proceeds to fill my bowl with the last of the cereal, dumping crumbs and all into the bowl which barely fills it halfway. Next, she grabs the half gallon of milk from the fridge and slams it onto the table. Setting my bowl in the space across from her, she drops the spoon in the dry cereal and looks at me. “You want me to pour your milk for you too, or you got it?”
I chuckle softly. Apparently, snark is a family trait. “I think I can manage.” I sit down in the seat Charlie chose for me. After splashing my cereal with just enough milk to coat the fruity shapes, I stir the cereal with my spoon.
Charlie’s looking at me like I just committed a gruesome crime. “You can use more. We can always get more milk.”