Page 12 of Next to You

I grabbed the second fork from the bowl and took a taste, tipping my head back with a groan. “Delicious. I was on the verge of becoming hangry. You don’t deserve to be stuck with me in that mood. It can get pretty ugly. I feel like we earned these.”

He let out a chuckle. “We sure did. That was an interesting drive, to say the least.”

“Interesting, yeah. You got that right.”

We finished eating the tacos in no time. As we ate, the fire took the icy cold edge off the space, and I relaxed a bit.

“I’ll take that.”

“Thanks.” I passed him the bowl, and he put it on the table.

He slid down and turned to his side. “I’ll repeat it. You’re safe with me, I’m warm, and you’re welcome to share it.”

Warm?

No.

He was hot.

Spencer was the sexiest man I’d seen in my entire life. A laugh shot out of me as I contemplated the ridiculousness of this situation. Earlier tonight, I’d been on a ten-minute date from hell, and now I was up close and forced proximity-personal with my secret high school crush.Go me.

I slid beneath the covers, resting my head on the pillow beside his. His arm stretched over my head, and his body heat beckoned me like a beacon. I turned to face him, biting my lip as I tried to think of something normal to say. Being normal washard for me under average circumstances, and I worried about what would come out of my mouth when I was still one-quarter freaked out, okay three-quarters. Lying to myself was a bad habit I had yet to quit.

“I went on a date tonight. It was terrible,” I blurted. “The only good thing about it was the tacos.”

Holy crap, what’s wrong with me? Too much information, anyone?

His body tensed, eyes growing sharp. “Do I know him?” He asked without missing a beat or making me feel awkward. “Is he your boyfriend?”

“No, well, maybe. I mean, no, he’s not my boyfriend, and maybe you know him.” I shook my head, trying to get my nervous energy out of it so I could make sense. “He lives in town but is not a local; he’s new. He invited me out at the last minute, and I stupidly said yes. Then, when I got there, he asked why I wasn’t dressed up, like hair, makeup, heels—he told me he expected more from a date and that my butt was too big for my jeans. So I left. I stormed from the table in a huge huff and ordered the to-go taco platter because fuck that guy.”

“First of all, he asked you out at the last minute and expected—what exactly? It’s Taco Time. What the hell? That place is a dump. The food is great, but it’s a total dive.”

“Exactly! That’s what I said. Well, that’s the nicest thing I said, anyway.”

“Good for you.” His eyes raked me up and down before gifting me with a lazy smile. “Don’t take crap from anyone. And second, Lucy, sweetheart, any man who doesn’t appreciate how stunningly gorgeous you are—and I’m including your amazing ass in this statement—is a fucking idiot who doesn’t deserve one single moment of your time.”

I sank into the bed as all the air left my body. My eyes got huge as my brain rattled around in my head, trying to take in what he had just said to me.

He threw back the covers and stood up, startling me. “It’s time.”

“What?” My eyes darted to him with concern. “Wait, are you leaving? Where would you go?”

“I’m not going anywhere except to the other side of the bed. Get into my spot. It’s warm.”

“Oh, okay. You had me worried for a second. That you?—”

“What, that I expect hair and makeup formality when we’re in the weirdest situation ever? That you have to put on a show and not be a real person with fears and concerns?”

I rolled into his spot, sinking into his leftover warmth with a thankful sigh as I pulled the covers up to my chin. As discretely as I could, I inhaled a deep breath, taking in the scent he’d left behind—it was heavenly, crisp, and clean, like sandalwood and fresh air. My thawed-out toes curled into the mattress as I fought the urge to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. Why did he have to smell so good?

“Maybe. I don’t know. I never know how to act around people. I’ve known you forever, but we don’t know each other well enough not to make this awkward. Does that make sense?”

"I understand what you mean, but we’ve already moved past awkward tonight. Let’s get comfortable and try to relax so we can sleep. I promise not to judge you for being emotional or scared. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I don’t expect any formality, and I hope you feel the same way.”

“I do feel the same. You’ve definitely seen me at my worst. Like nose running, smeared makeup, spiraling into a freakout, crying worst. And let’s not even get into what my hair must look like right now.”

“Likewise, you saw me get nervous in my truck. I was scared too, and also worried that I would end up failing us both. And full disclosure, you were in the bathroom when I sent my dad a panicked help-me SOS text—which, sadly, did not go through.”

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