Page 93 of Revival

“You aren’t sick of me yet?”

“Never.” He kisses my knuckles one by one. “If I see you tomorrow, that just means I get to fuck you again.”

My vagina gives an eager little clench.

“You’re going to have to put a pause on that because Ollie has a baseball game tomorrow. I’m free on Wednesday night, though.”

“Wednesday it is. You better pencil me in.”

“I can assure you my schedule isn’t that full.”

Spencer takes me to my back. “Do you want it to be? Because I have a few ideas on how we can occupy your time.”

“I think I might need a demonstration.”

He slants his head and kisses me.

“I forgot I need to thank you,” I say when we come up for air.

“What for?”

My gaze shifts to the side. “I ran into Sebastian the other day.”

Spencer stiffens, but his voice remains steady. “Tell me what happened.”

“He said he’s been trying to get ahold of me, but I forgot someone blocked his number.” My pointed look places blame in the appropriate place.

“Can’t imagine that idiot would have anything important to say.”

“He didn’t.” The pillow crinkles beneath me as I shake my head. “He wanted another chance.”

Spencer’s jaw clenches. “You’re shitting me. After what he did?”

I run a soothing finger down his cheek. “I told him there’s no chance.”

He catches the digit in his fist, bringing it to his lips for a kiss. “You shouldn’t have had to. That guy is fucked in the head if he thinks he should be allowed to even breathe the same air as you.”

“I essentially told him the same thing.”

Spencer flips us again and rearranges me on his chest. “Think it’s time someone else tells him to get lost.”

“He’ll go away eventually.”

“Not soon enough,” he mutters. “Next time he bothers you, you call me.”

“I can handle him.”

“I know you can.” Spencer lifts his chin to press a tender kiss to my forehead. “You’re the strongest person I know. The problem I have with that is you shouldn’t have to. You’ve done enough on your own.”

22

Spencer

The doorin front of me is large and looming. I raise my fist to knock, fighting against the tightness in my throat. I don’t normally venture out. People come to me. I decided last night that if I’m doing this, if I’m all in with Cortney, then I need to be all in with everyone who means something to me.

My knuckles strike the door in three sharp taps. I shove my hands in my pockets and drop my chin to my chest, folding in on myself as I wait.

A booming bark sounds in the background, followed by a practiced command.

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