Page 37 of Next to You

Each morning here, we’d woken up all over each other. We did in our sleep what we couldn’t allow to happen when we were awake.

This was not the direction I should let my thoughts go in. I let out a frustrated growl. I had never been an impulsive man, but something about Lucy made me want to deconstruct my carefully built walls and let myself go.

Needing something to do, I headed to the kitchen and gathered the ingredients for pasta. I laid out plates, silverware, and glasses on the island.

The water was simmering in the pot when she came out of the bathroom dressed in leggings and the hoodie I’d left on the counter. It was huge on her, and the sight of her wearing something that belonged to me had my stomach turning somersaults and my heart racing out of control.

“I hope it’s okay that I’m wearing your hoodie. It looked cozy and warm.”

Why was this sexier than that black bathing suit?

I had to look away. Turning back to dinner, I dumped the noodles into the water.

“Yeah,” I cleared my throat. “Of course.” It was more than okay. It was everything.

She was going to be mine.

But I’d wait until we got out of here to tell her that.

“Pasta for dinner?”

“Yeah, are you hungry?”

“Starved.” She slid onto the stool at the island. “Should we wait to have the cider at midnight?”

My lips twitched. “Ahh, yes, let’s save the toast for what is arguably one of the most romantic times of the year,” I teased.

“The midnight kiss.” Her eyelashes fluttered playfully. “No pressure there.” She added with a mock pout, “I didn’t get one last year. Unless you count the one on my cheek from my mother.”

“I did.” I met her eyes over the counter. “And it was not worth the trouble.”

Tonight would mark a year of me being alone. No dates, no one-night stands, no flirting, no texting, talking, hoping, or planning—nothing because I had been done with trying.

Cut to finding Lucy on the side of the road…

“Oooh, there’s a story there.” With her elbows on the counter she rested her chin on her hands. “Tell me all about it.”

“It’s nothing, really, just the typical not right for each other, wanting different things out of life stuff—which basically sums up the entirety of my dating life. The only story I care about is the one happening right here with you.” I touched her nose with a fingertip. “Compared to now, everything else feels like I was just passing the time.”

She sat up straight, shaking her head. “How do you do that?”

“Do what? Am I in trouble?” One glance at her playful grin told me I wasn’t.

“If I were a Victorian, I would have swooned, Spencer. Like, you’d have to carry me to the fainting couch and put some freaking smelling salts under my nose to wake me up.”

“What—?”

Her stunning eyes warmed on mine. “What I love most about you is that this stuff just comes naturally. You’re not saying sweet things to get me into bed or placate me somehow. In fact,the only reason why I haven’t already jumped your bones is out of respect for you.”

“Lucy—” I had to set her straight.

“You’re a romantic, Spencer,” she cut me off before I could explain. “Any woman who couldn’t make it work with you is a complete idiot or dead inside.”

“I’m not a romantic?—”

“Bullshit.” She threw her head back and laughed, sending a cascade of butterscotch waves over her shoulders. I wanted to tangle my hands in it. I wanted to pull her into me and let myself go.

Shit.

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