Chapter 13

Two Days Pre-Culling…

By late afternoon, the storm has intensified to the point that going outside is no longer safe, which means Spencer and I are stuck in the B&B until Mother Nature stops throwing a hissy fit. The winds are violent, and the waves crash over the docks and onto the several boats. Because Spencer’s boat is on the smaller side, the waves cause some minor damage, and that means we have no choice but to stay here even longer—at least until the storm stops, and we can get the boat fixed.

The storm eventually knocks out the power, too, and that only makes our stay more miserable. The owners of the B&B are trying so hard to keep their guests entertained with board games by candlelight, but that’s not really my thing. To make matters even worse, Spencer and I haven’t spoken about our kiss since right after it happened. I want to, but I’m afraid of what he might say. I don’t think he’ll say kissing me was a mistake, but why hasn’t he said anything at all? And why hasn’t he kissed me again?

“You sure you don’t want to go downstairs and play games with everyone else?” Spencer stands in the doorway, arms crossed.

I’m on the bed, feet dangling off the edge, bored out of my mind. I prop myself on my elbows and glance at him. “Do you?”

He lifts one shoulder in a lazy shrug. “I hear Monopoly gets pretty rowdy.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Old people take real estate very seriously.”

I laugh. “Uh, no thanks.”

“Suit yourself.” He pushes away from the doorframe and saunters farther into the room. “The storm is finally dying down, and I have a boat mechanic lined up to fix the damage as soon as it stops raining.”

“Good. I can’t wait to get out of here.” I groan and flop back down onto the bed.

The mattress dips with Spencer’s weight as he sits. “Shouldn’t be too much longer.”

We fall silent, and my heart punches against my ribs with anticipation. For what, I have no idea. Spencer hasn’t once tried to kiss me again, nor has he shown any affection toward me. Maybe he’s mad because I didn’t return his declaration of feelings. Not aloud anyway.

“So, what do you want to do?” he asks.

“There’s nothing to do.”

“I can snag a deck of cards from downstairs, and we can play our own game.”

“No thanks,” I say.

He mutters incoherently under his breath, then adjusts so he’s sitting with his back against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of him, ankles crossed. “Fine. If you wanna sit here and do nothing, I’m game.”

I roll my eyes. Spencer is not the type of guy who can just sit around and do nothing. Even as pre-teens when we planned a movie day, he’d have to be doing something else while watching TV. Usually that amounted to talking—or rather, interrogating me.

“This is why you’re not very popular, you know?” I rest my hands on my stomach. “You’re kinda lame.”

“I’m not popular because I refuse to associate with the people who are.” His tone holds an edge, and I worry I’ve offended him.

“Except for me.” I twist my head and grin at him. “I’m popular.”

“Yes, but you don’t act like you’re better than everyone else.”

“I don’t have to act like that because I just am.” I stick my tongue out at him.

“In your dreams.” Laughing, he nudges me with his foot.

I slap at his leg, but he moves before my hand can make contact. I scramble upright, intent on making him pay for that comment. His reflexes are much quicker than mine, though, and faster than I can blink, he has me pinned on my back, hands above my head. His hold on my wrists is gentle but firm, and he holds himself over me.

What had been silly goofing around suddenly turns to something more. I hold my breath and meet his gaze, which is dark, almost predatory. I’ve never seen that look in his eyes before, and I’m not sure if I find it sexy or scary.

I flex my fingers, but he doesn’t release my hands. “Now what?” I ask, my voice cracking.

His smile is brief, and then his lips crash down on mine in a kiss that’s ten times hotter and longer than our last one. When he finally stops, I’m breathless and shaky, and it’s one of the best feelings in the world. I had always imagined Reid would be the one to make me feel all gooey inside and starry-eyed, but how wrong I was.

Spencer drops a kiss to my forehead, then rolls to his side. I let out a heavy breath and ease my hands from over my head to my stomach. Every part of me tingles and buzzes with an excited energy that’s more potent than any drug.

“Can I ask you a question?” he asks after a moment.

“Can I say no?”

He laughs. “You can, but I’m still going to ask.”

“Then just ask,” I say.

“What happens when we get back home?”

And just like that, whatever blissful euphoria I’d been suspended in vanishes. My stomach twists into a tight knot, and bile coats the back of my throat. “What do you mean?” I ask, though I don’t have to. I know exactly what he means, but I need to stall for time so I can come up with an answer that won’t ruin the rest of our summer.

“You know what I mean, Ev.” He stares up at the ceiling rather than look at me.

I rub my hands over my face as if doing so will erase his question that hangs between us. “I guess things go back to normal.”

“Normal,” he repeats, his tone devoid of any discernible emotion. Then he nods, lips pursed, and sits upright. “So that means you’ll make fun of me behind my back with your friends again and pretend I don’t exist.”

My throat burns with raw emotion, and my heart slams hard against my ribs. I struggle to inhale deeply enough. I want to deny Spencer’s accusation, but I can’t, and we both know it. He’s right—that’s what I do with my friends.

“No,” I say after a moment. “I mean, I’m sure they’ll still do that, but—” I scoot up so I’m sitting next to him, though I’m careful to ensure our bodies don’t touch.

“But what?” He raises a brow.

I sigh and pick at a loose thread on the comforter. “I don’t know.” I shrug.

“Forget I asked.” He swings his legs over the side of the mattress, stands, then walks out of the room without so much as a backward glance.

Groaning, I let my head fall against the headboard with a thud. Why does this have to be so hard? Spencer’s a nice guy, a great friend, and he makes me feel things I’ve never felt before. As much as I want to deny our connection, I can’t. But being seen in school with him will destroy my reputation. Can I really take that risk?

I close my eyes and fight hard against the tears threatening to spill free. For so long, Spencer was my person, the only person in the world I needed. Becoming friends with Whitney, Mya, and Liz had changed all that, but why? Why is their friendship more important than Spencer’s? I mean, who’s here with me right now? Who stepped up when I most needed a friend?

I don’t know how long I sit there, my thoughts swirling in an endless loop, but when I finally reopen my eyes, the room is shrouded in mostly darkness. Except now the lamp on the nightstand is on, casting a soft glow. Straightening, I stretch, and then I yelp.

Spencer is sitting on the floor, arms propped on his bent legs. “Sleep well?” he asks.

“No.” I rub at the kink in my neck. “Have you just been sitting there watching me?” That’s creepy.

He shakes head. “I kept coming in to check on you. I’ve only been sitting here for a few minutes.” He stands, the movement incredibly graceful, and I’m hit with a stab of jealousy at how easily he seems to move. Nothing about Spencer is awkward. “The storm is over.”

“Good.” I stand and stretch my arms over my head. “The boat?”

“Fixed.” Spencer shoves his hands into his pockets. “We can leave now, if you want, or we can stay here until morning. It’s up to you.”

I nod and chew on the inside of my cheek. A few hours ago, I would’ve given anything to get out of here, but now I’m not so sure. If we leave, Spencer will be occupied with the boat and not me, which means we won’t be able to talk about earlier. I want to apologize to him for hurting his feelings, but that’s not something I can do on the fly.

“What do you want to do?” I ask.

“I don’t really care.” He sounds bored.

I frown. Staying here another night means sharing the bed again—not that anything will happen, but in this scenario, we can talk uninterrupted. Then again, if Spencer really wanted to talk about earlier, he wouldn’t have stormed out the way he did.

“Let’s leave,” I say. “I’m not sure I can stand to be in this room another night.” I force a laugh.

“You mean in this room with me,” he says under his breath.

“No, I mean in this room. Because I’m still going to be with you, Spencer,” I say, an edge to my tone.

“Not nearly long enough,” he grumbles, then bustles around to gather what few things we have in the room.

I stand near the bed, shocked and angry. I can’t make sense of him. One second he says and does things that make me think he wants a serious relationship with me. Then other times, he’s storming away like a child throwing a tantrum.

“Ready?” He stands near the door, a single duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

With nothing else to do, and at a loss for words, I nod and follow him out of the room. He quickly checks out of the B&B, and we walk silently toward the docks. Debris from the storm litters the ground, and I’m so busy paying attention to where I’m walking that I don’t notice Spencer stop—until I ram face-first into his back.

“Oof.” I grunt and stumble backward. Pain radiates from my nose and spreads across my cheeks.

Spencer turns, grabs me around the waist, and hauls me against him before I can hit the ground. I clutch his biceps and stare up into his eyes. He stares back, and in that second, my world shifts. Everything inside of me comes to life, beating and humming and pumping solely for Spencer. I can’t begin to explain what’s happening, but I know, without any doubt, that I’m supposed to be with Spencer.

And I don’t mean just right now, or this summer, or even when we get home. I mean forever.

My breath catches, and my brain screams at me to get away from him, to wiggle free from his hold and run away as fast as I can. But everything else in me keeps me in place, and I stop trying to fight against my instincts.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“For what?”

“What I said earlier, about things going back to normal.” I swallow hard.

No way will I ever be able to explain to my friends what happened with Spencer, or why I’m suddenly into him and want to be with him, but if they’re truly my friends, they’ll understand, right? But I know the answer before the question even fully forms in my mind.

When I get home, I’ll have to make a choice—my friends or Spencer.