Page 27 of Next to You

What if he was getting news that we could leave? I wasn’t ready.

Was I being selfish by not thinking about my family and what they could potentially be going through in town?

Or was it finally my chance to have something for myself?

I wasn’t worried about my mom. Her house could withstand any disaster that came her way. Her anxiety wouldn’t allow her to be ill-prepared for anything. Whenever I finally made it out of this cabin and went to her place to prove to her I was still alive, she’d tell me everything that happened while I was gone, how she was right about all her paranoid safety-freak ways, and how I needed to stock my car and house with more cold weather supplies—which, obviously, was a fair point—over peppermint tea and her sugar-free sugar cookies, which I, much to her amused annoyance, referred to as imposter cookies.

I wasn’t worried about my grandparents either. The Honeybrook would also be okay. It had stood proud for almost a hundred years, weathering every storm that had hit this area. However, they wouldn’t lecture me about anything when I got home. We’d just crack open a few beers by the big fireplace in the lobby and rant about storms from the days of yore and yesteryear and how much snow we’d be cleaning up around the property for the next few months.

I guess I could worry about my four half-sisters—my dad was a player before and after my mother, and during, too—but I didn’t like to think about him. They were all scrappy ladies and would be okay no matter what.

“No news. Or at least nothing we couldn’t have guessed for ourselves.” Spencer’s voice startled me as his boot steps sounded across the wooden floor toward me. I dropped my spoon in the bowl with a clatter. I really had to stop zoning out like this.

“Is everything okay?”

"Yes, for the most part, everything happening in town is to be expected. The usual: power outages, icy roads, fallen trees, and people hunkering down. So far, it’s nothing out of the ordinary. It’s good that the schools are still on winter break.”

“So we’ll just hang out here and ride it out. Are our families okay then? And what about my mom?”

“Exactly. We stay put. Everyone is fine. Your mom is at the inn with your grandparents and sisters. They’re making meals for the Honeybrook Action Center as usual and keeping the road workers supplied with coffee and snacks.”

“I wish I were there to help.”

“Me too. They could use another tow truck. But it is what it is. And it’s best if they don’t have to worry about us.”

“Okay, I agree. You’re right.”

“Also, I found this.” He handed me an emergency radio with a hand crank. “We can listen to music if we can get a station to come in. And you can have some actual music to dance to in the kitchen.”

“You saw that?” Luckily the cringe I just cringed was not fatal and I would live another day and probably find another way to embarrass myself again somehow.

“Sure did.” His smile turned into a chuckle “You have some great moves, Darlington. Prom was definitely a missed opportunity,” he teased, rejoining me at the table and taking a bite of his soup.

“Oh my god.” Brushing my embarrassment aside, I started cranking it and then turned it on. “I know you don’t like the quiet. This is amazing.” It was staticky, but I smiled when "1999" by Prince came on. “How apropos; tomorrow is New Year’s Eve. We can party like it’s—what, 2099? We’ll probably both be dead by then.”

Dying didn’t worry me. Stopping myself from jumping Spencer is what worried me. I slammed my eyes shut when the mental image of kissing him at midnight tomorrow popped into my head. Damn it—I wasn’t supposed to be thinking about things like that—like how sexy he looked in his blue flannel shirt. He’d rolled the sleeves up while he was in the loft, and how kind of him it was to give me something new to lust over.

“What a cheerful thought.” He chuckled. “Almost as macabre as your gangrene pedicure discount.”

I huffed a sardonic laugh. “I used to think of myself as an optimist, but I’ve spent too much of my life searching for silver linings. Those days are over.”

“I feel that, especially after my last relationship.”

“Oh yeah?” My curiosity piqued, and I leaned forward, steepling my fingers beneath my chin. “Want to talk about it? I’m a great listener, and my advice is usually well received.”

One of his eyebrows shot up as he weighed the question. “Do you want to talk about Skip McFadden? And why you agreed to go out with a tool like him?” He finally answered me, and I smiled, not missing the gentle sarcasm in his tone. Maybe he was bad at love too.

“Oh god no. But I have already told you everything there is to know about him. And I get you. For the sake of fairness, you can always ask me about my dad or my last two boyfriends, then we can really get into it.”

“Are we foregoing our plans for board games and poker for twenty questions?” He countered.

“Or maybe truth or dare?” I boldly suggested.

“I never turn down a dare and I’m honest to a fault. Better be careful what you ask for.”

Blood pounded in my brain, and I enjoyed a full-body shiver. For someone who wanted to wait to kiss me, he was sure flirting his ass off right now.

“You’re perplexing me, Spencer. I think I like it. Mixed messages are fun when I know what you really want.”

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