Page 17 of You Found Me (The Meadow Springs #1)

Right as he opens his mouth to say something, I excuse myself, backing out from the table in a rush. I hide in one of Theo’s guest rooms, and as soon as I sit on the bed, I let the tears flow.

After a few minutes, there’s a soft knock on the door before it slowly opens. Figuring it’s just Colette, I continue to softly cry, waiting for her to come sit beside me.

Instead, it’s Spencer.

He kneels on the floor in front of me rather than sitting next to me on the bed. “What’s going on?”

“I’m fine,” I say as I wipe away the tears. “It was just a long day. I’m sorry. I’m tired and maybe a little tipsy. Don’t worry about me,” I fake a laugh, waving him off.

He gently grabs my hand, brushing his thumb against the bruises that have formed on my wrist. “What happened here?”

“Oh that, um, it’s nothing.”

“Well, nothing sure looks a lot like bruises,” he says with a raised brow. And I can’t help but stare at the scar that runs through his brow, it adds a bit of ruggedness to his entire “sweet boy” vibe.

“Spencer, it’s really nothing. Hazard of the job is all. Come on.” I start to stand. “Let’s go back out before they start to wonder where we’ve run off to.”

He steps in front of me without being too close. “Emmaline, seriously. Please tell me who did this to you. Is there not some protection or law for patients becoming violent with staff? I mean you said it happened at work so there has to be some kind of rule. ”

“There aren’t nearly enough rules and laws about that but that’s beside the point.” I pause, deciding to take a risk and trust him with the truth. “It was Chance.”

“What do you mean it was Chance? He did this to you?”

The clench of his jaw tells me he’s disturbed by this news, and I just don’t have it in me to hold in my tears to keep him from becoming more upset.

“He called me earlier tonight at work and when I didn’t give him the answer he wanted, he took that as a sign to show up.

He cornered me out by my car and when I tried to leave, he grabbed my wrist—hard.

He only let go because a coworker was walking to her car and asked if everything was okay. But it’s fine, he left.”

“Emmaline, none of that is fine. He’s not only harassing you, he hurt you.”

“I know, I know. He’s just been under a lot of pressure since being traded and—”

“Pressure or not, he should have never laid a finger on you. You shouldn’t make excuses for him. Can I do anything to help?”

“I’m not sure there’s anything you can do. I honestly think he was more upset when he thought I was dressed up for a date. Maybe that could be what gets him to finally leave me alone.”

“Are you ready to start dating again?” he asks.

“Not really. I’m a broken mess. I can’t force this on some poor unsuspecting soul.”

“You’re not a broken mess. It might feel that way right now but it’s just a bad day. Maybe a bad few months. But you’ll bounce back, I’m sure of it.”

“Maybe.”

“I bet as soon as you’re ready to date—hell, probably even before—the busybodies in town will have you set up in no time,” he tells me with a smile.

That pulls a quiet chuckle out of me. “So, you’ve had some experience with it?”

Spencer laughs, his dimple popping out. “Unfortunately. What about me screams ‘I’m desperate, find me a woman?’ I’m trying to focus on my career, my two jobs keep me pretty busy.

Yet, the women in my life, whether they’re related to me or not, seem to think I don’t have a girlfriend because I can’t get one.

I don’t know what the dating pool is like on the women’s side of things, but from this side it’s pretty atrocious. ”

I snort, then realize what I did and hang my head in embarrassment. “Sorry. That caught me off guard. I’m not sure what it’s like—I’ve been off the market, remember?”

“I’ve never thought a snort could sound so cute,” he says with a smirk.

“Oh, shut up. It slipped. I’m guessing your mom tried setting you up recently?”

“That’s not very neighborly of you,” he pouts. “But yeah, she tried last weekend.”

“Sorry, I’m not feeling too neighborly at the moment—what with jerk ex-fiancés causing trouble and all.” I sigh, “Maybe I do need to go on a few dates and post about them so he can see. Let these meddlesome women do some good for me and set me up.”

“First, stop apologizing. Second, if you want to do that, you should. However, I’m sure there’s a better way to get him off your back without dating the less than charming lot of single men here.”

“It’d be easier if I didn’t actually have to date someone.

Like if I could hire an unknown actor or come to some kind of mutual arrangement.

” I don’t know what comes over me—maybe it’s the wine—but I hear myself say, “You should pretend to be my boyfriend. It would keep the old biddies off your back, as well as your mom. We’re decent enough friends, and we know enough about each other that I think we’d pull it off. No one would question it.”

It’s definitely the wine.

Spencer starts having a coughing fit making me realize I’ve lost my mind.

Before he even gets a chance to respond, I look at him with wild eyes and burst out laughing. “Oh my god, ignore me. I can’t believe I even said that.”

My laughter starts dying down, becoming more nervous sounding. I take a deep breath. “I’m tipsy and emotionally drained. Please, let’s just act like that never came out of my mouth. ”

Feeling the need to distance myself from him, I go over to the mirror on the wall, swiping my fingers underneath my eyes to get rid of any mascara that ran down my cheeks.

Composing myself, I tell him we should head back to the party.

When I get to the kitchen, I immediately pour myself another glass of wine, gulping half of it right away.

Mia and Piper make their way over to me before Piper says, “Whose ass do we need to kick?”

A genuine laugh bubbles out. “It’s nothing. I’m just exhausted from this week. Is it time for cake yet? It looks delicious and is begging to be eaten.”

***

A loud noise jolts me awake, it takes me a second to recognize it’s coming from my phone.

Reaching over, I silence the irritating device while coming to the realization that I’ve got a wicked hangover and no idea of how I got home. I run through my messages. There are a bunch in my group chat with the girls and then one from Spencer.

Naturally I click on that one first.

Spencer

Hey. It's Spencer. Give me a call whenever you wake up. And take the medicine on your nightstand.

That’s when I see the very tempting bottle of water and Advil in front of me.

My mind goes back to when I woke up the morning after my parents’ anniversary party feeling the same way.

A wave of déjà vu hits me. This poor man is owed compensation for putting up with a very emotional drunk me, not once but twice.

Once I pop a couple pain relievers, I go through the rest of my texts, noting a message from Mia to meet her at Blossom Brews once her yoga class lets out.

I drag myself to the shower and get as ready as my body will allow in this state, and I don’t bother getting dolled up, going with a pair of biker shorts and an oversized T-shirt this morning.

Thankfully it’s not a hair wash day, so I French braid my hair.

Less than an hour later, I’m in line ordering the biggest iced white chocolate mocha latte I can get my hands on, when a deep voice behind me says, “Could you add a large black coffee and a cinnamon roll to that order, please.”

I know that voice.

I’d hoped to not run into the owner of that velvety, low draw that enters my dreams unwillingly—or ever have to face him again for that matter.

Realistically, I would’ve loved not seeing him until I had an idea of what else happened last night.

I’m about to tell the teenage girl behind the register that my order is separate, but Spencer cuts in with a dazzling smile informing her that he’ll be covering both of our orders.

Of course, she goes along with what he says because anyone with eyes would find him and that dimple attractive. I, being unswayed by his charms, roll my eyes at his antics and head over to a corner table with my back to the rest of the shop.

Spencer brings over the number holder that I failed to grab and sits down across from me. I begrudgingly look up, meeting his eyes and notice a small smirk is spreading on his stupid, handsome face. “Thank you for buying my drink.”

“That’s what boyfriends are for, Shortstack.”

“You must have me confused with another one of your several other women, because I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“No?” he asks with a playful tilt of his head. “So, you don’t remember anything from last night after we went back out for cake, huh?”

I couldn’t be more embarrassed if I tried. Which is why I tell him a small lie, “I’m sorry, I don’t. But I’m meeting the girls here in a bit so they can fill me in.”

“No need to apologize. You kept me entertained.”

“Ugghhhh. I usually remember things when I’ve been drinking, but I don’t this time. So excuse me while I go run out into traffic. ”

The sound that comes out of him is so rich and full of life that all I can do is stare as he throws his head back laughing. Our order is brought out to us, and he pushes the gooey cinnamon roll in front of me.

“Eat. It’ll make you feel better.”

“Someone sure is bossy,” I say with a small smile before relenting. “It looks too good to pretend that I don’t want it. Just know that I’m eating it because I want it. Not because you told me too.”

“Whatever makes you eat the whole thing. Would you like to talk about what you do remember, or do you want me to fill you in on what you don’t?”

“How about neither?” I say quickly.