Page 56 of The Stranger

Any other time, I would’ve hated hearing her speak those words, but for some reason, it didn’t bother me. Maybe because Delilah and I will never be married. She’s far too young for me, and I’m nothing like my old man—child brides aren’t my thing.

“Yikes. We need to remind her that we’ve officially broken up.”

I chuckle to myself as she pushes her chair back and opens the drawer to grab her handbag before slinging it over her shoulder.

“I’ll leave that one up to you,” I say as she grasps my hand. I help her stand, taking pleasure in these small moments when I get a free pass to touch her. “I have no intentions of breaking my mother’s heart.”

Chapter 19

Delilah

“Darling,” Eloise says, standing to greet us when we arrive at the restaurant. She embraces me first before air-kissing both cheeks. “I’ve missed you.”

“You have?”

She draws back and makes eye contact with me. “Of course, sweet girl. You and Spencer are my life … you two are what keeps me going.”

I hear Spencer chuckle from behind us before grasping hold of my shoulders and gently moving me to the side. “You’re laying it on a bit thick, Mother.”

“Nonsense,” she replies with a mischievous grin that contradicts her words. “Seeing my two favourite people together makes this old lady’s heart happy.”

Spencer’s eyebrows spring so high they almost reach his hairline. “Since when have you ever liked to be referred to asold?” he questions.

“I’m in my fifties now, darling,” she scoffs.

“Which is hardly what I’d call old, Mother.” Spencer briefly side-eyes me as he speaks and I have a fair idea why.

He leans in and places his lips on her cheek beforepulling out her chair and encouraging her to retake her seat. He then does the same for me.

“Thank you,” I say, glancing over my shoulder to smile up at him.

When I face forward, I see Eloise watching us with her open palm resting on her breastbone. I want to remind her we are not a couple, which deep down she knows, but I don’t have the heart to after that display.

“So how are you two handling cohabitation?” Eloise asks.

“You realise we aren’t actually cohabitating?” Spencer replies.

“You’re living under the same roof.”

“In separate bedrooms,” I add as my eyes move from Eloise to Spencer.

His attention is now on me, and the intensity of his stare has a tingle running down my spine. Somewhere along the line, I became super aware of this man. As much as I’m trying to deny these bizarre feelings he evokes in me, they are undeniable. It’s crazy how quickly he’s become a huge part of my everyday life.

This pull I have towards him is palpable, and I’ve tried many times to brush these feelings off as mere gratitude. An appreciation for him being there when I needed him most—an unexpected ally—but if I’m being honest with myself, it’s more than that.So much more.I want this man in ways that I shouldn’t.

My skin prickles and the air around us crackles as I continue to hold his stare. The moment is only broken when Eloise clears her throat. My gaze snaps to her, and the full smile she’s now giving us both tells me she sees exactly what I’m feeling.

Shit.

My life is complicated enough right now, so this is thelast thing I need. Besides, I can’t risk losing the only friend I have over a stupid crush on a man who is way too old for me.

After dinner, Eloise has her driver drop us back at the apartment. It was an interesting evening, and although there were no more mentions ofus, the weight of my epiphany hung heavy on my conscience for the duration of dinner. And somewhere throughout the meal, I suddenly became acutely aware of Spencer’s every move.

The way his strong hands held his cutlery or how the food slipped past his pillowy bottom lip. The movement of his strong jawline as he chewed, or the bob of his Adam’s apple when he swallowed. Every so often, his eyes would flicker to me and he’d briefly observe me watching him.

In those moments, I knew I should’ve looked away, but I couldn’t. It left me all kinds of hot and bothered. At one stage, I even squirmed a little in my seat to release some of the pressure that was building in my core.

Now that we’re alone, riding the elevator back to his floor, the scent of his cologne permeates my senses to the point I feel like I’m suffocating. Is it because we’re in a confined space, or just him?