Page 80 of The Geography of Happiness

We’d fallen asleep that way in the silence.

I smiled at the idea, then remembered the alarm.

Shit.Hannah.

I eased free of Spencer’s bear hug, one limb at a time, until I was sitting on the edge of the couch. He mumbled something and altered his position, but he didn’t wake.

I pulled my phone from my pocket and checked the time. Two in the morning. Hannah’s concussion check was due. I looked down at Spencer, warm affection bubbling in my chest. I was falling hard and I knew it. The friendship thing was a bad idea, but what the fuck. I’d survived a week of bad ideas, I’d survive Spencer... eventually.

I pressed my lips to his forehead and then studied him for a minute—the soft rhythm of his breathing, his mouth slack in sleep, the stress lines smooth at the corners of his eyes and mouth. He looked peaceful, calm, unlike the thundering of my own heart at the thought of what we’d done.

You are not them.

And for some reason, I believed him. Listening to his recounting of his ‘romantic’ adventures, I’d come to the surprising realisation that he and I weren’t that different after all. My complicated and often sluggish libido meant I didn’t need to deal with people, to consider anyone else, or manage the ups and downs of a relationship. And I didn’t need to worry about being hurt.

Spencer’s hookup lifestyle with its rigid boundaries did exactly the same thing. No strings. No expectations. No compromise. No niggly give and take.

But that’s where the similarities ended. Spencer was free to do as he pleased with his life and his career, and I wasn’t. But my four days in the Mackenzie had ripped the scales from my eyes, and for the first time since Judah, I found myself yearning for something for me, someonefor me.

What’s known can’t be unknown.

“Damn you, Spencer Thompson,” I whispered, brushing a stray curl from his eyes. “Damn you for waking me up and making me want more. I don’t have time for that in my life. I don’t have time for... you.”

I allowed myself one final look and then headed for Hannah’s room.

She woke easily, had no trouble with the questions, and quickly settled back to sleep with Gabby nestled behind her knees. I wasn’t happy with the swelling around her knee, but there wasn’t anything I could do except refresh the cool pack.

That done, I left Hannah to sleep, glanced wistfully toward where Spencer slept on the couch, and then headed in the opposite direction for a quick shower before I hit my own bed. I passed Spencer’s bedroom on the way and absolutely did not stop to take a peek at the huge bed with its caramel-coloured duvet and crisp white sheets. I also didn’t stare at the large framed painting of two naked men kissing, neither of which looked anything like me. And I didn’t wonder about that, either.

Showered and somewhat fresh, I made it into bed and took a deep soul-cleansing breath for the first time since I’d heard Hannah had been hurt. I shot a quick text to Zach and accepted his offer to drive us to the clinic and back to the station that morning and asked him to be there by ten. I knew damn well Spencer had lied about not needing to work and I wasn’t about to add to his stress. I also didn’t want a painful drawn-out farewell between us. Better to pop the balloon quickly on this bubble wewere floating in and get on with real life. Spencer wouldn’t be happy, but I’d deal with that when it happened.

Zach surprised me by replying almost instantly that he’d be there as requested.

I frowned and texted back.What are you doing still up?

He texted back.Got a bitch due to whelp and we’ve just been checking on her. No puppies yet.

The idea of Zach dragging himself out of a warm bed to check on his girls made me smile. Then I remembered he’d saidwe’ve.Is Luke with you?

Sure is. Why should he get to sleep?

That made me chuckle, and we exchanged a few more texts about Hannah and possible plans for heading back to Auckland, depending on what the doctor said, either later that day or the next. Zach told me Luke would make things work and just to let him know.

That done, I slid my phone onto the bedside table and willed sleep to take me. Anything to stop my mind replaying the delicious memories of the things Spencer and I had got up to just a few hours before.

Yeah, good luck with that.

The weak lightof morning woke me well before the six o’clock alarm on my phone. I’d been so tired, I hadn’t even closed the blinds. A concussion check was due at six, but instead of leaping into action early, I pulled the covers up to my chin and stared at the rivulets of water running down the panes of glass.

Theinsideof the glass.

I puffed a breath into the room and it condensed in front of my face. I shivered and pulled the covers over my mouth,hunkering down. Nothing moved in the silent old house. No rain hammering on the iron roof. No wind whistling through gaps in the old window frames.

I breathed in and out and took quiet stock of my body. It felt... different somehow.Ifelt different. A little wrung out but in a good way. My body also felt oddly expectant, even buzzing wasn’t too strong of a word. I guessed a slamming orgasm or two could do that to a guy. But nurturing false hope about any possible future together was a bad idea on every level. The sooner I got back to Painted Bay the better.

My alarm finally vibrated and when I reached for my phone to shut it off the first kiss of frigid air on my skin sent my teeth chattering and goosebumps popping all over my body. I ripped a blanket from the bed and wrapped it around my shoulders, then stood at the window and checked the weather outside. It took a minute for the fairytale scene to sink in—a crystal white world as far as the eye could see... in November for fuck’s sake.

A late frost blanketed the ground, a layer of ice crackling atop the puddles left from the night before. It was an unexpected wonderland that likely wouldn’t last beyond breakfast, and I idly wondered what Holden and Jules thought when they’d stepped out their doors that morning. Nothing good, I bet.

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