Page 29 of Over You
“That’s a killer shirt.” Spencer’s arm went around my waist, and if I had to guess, he probably winked before he tugged me against his side. “At leastshelikes me, Rapunzel,” he whispered before nipping at my ear.
Groaning, I elbowed him away while Lottie stared at me like I’d grown a second head. She pointed a trembling finger at him, then let out a scream so shrill it could have shattered the windows.
“Hey. Hey. Hey.” Spencer covered his ears. “Christ. All that’s not necessary.”
But she kept screaming.
I slammed the door in the hopes it would drown her out before the neighbors called the police. “Lottie. Stop.”
“Spencer. It’s Spencer. Georgia.” She pointed again like I wasn’t aware of the massive, drunk asshole slouching against me. Her hands went to her head, and she spun around a few times; I was afraid she was either going to spontaneously combust or melt into the carpet. “That’s Spencer Hailstorm.”
“I know.” I sighed.
“How did you— How did he— What in the?”
Smiling like the smug bastard he was, Spencer crossed the room with complete swagger. The second he stopped in front of her and asked her name, she threw her arms around his neck. Holding up my hands, I went straight to the kitchen and rummaged through the cabinet for an open bottle of wine. I rarely drank, but this—thiscalled for alcohol.
The stopper came out with aplunk, and I necked it.
“Wine? You’ve gone all sophisticated on me.”
I literallyfelthim appear in the doorway—that’s the kind of presence he’d always had.
“What happened to tequila?”
I closed my eyes and took another swig before I spun around with every intention of demanding he leave. But one look at him with his arms braced in the doorway, the hem of his shirt riding up just enough to reveal a strip of tanned skin above the jeans sitting dangerously low on his hips—the smattering of hair that traveled to places I shouldn’t want anything to do with, but God, did I. It had been so long. . .
My traitorous heart stuttered.Say something. “Lurking in the shadows and waiting on me to leave work borders on psychotic. You realize that?” I took another chug.
“No more psychotic than you jetting off halfway around the world to get away from me.” His chin dipped. His stormy gaze tapered, and that single look plastered me to the wall. Spencer’s eyes were like fire in water, a deep blue that made me want to lose myself in him, but I knew, the second I did, I’d end up with third-degree burns.
I was trapped, with nothing to keep him away from me but the half-empty bottle of wine my sweaty palms had clutched in a desperate death grip.
“Don’t forget, I know you, Georgia Anne.” He smirked. “Better than anyone else.” His white teeth raked over his lip the way they used to before he’d grab me and throw me on the bed.
The subsequent heat that built between my legs from that thought alone made me livid. “Don’t remind me.”
“I know the reason your cheeks are turning pussy-pink right now is that you’re pissed and turned on at the same time.”
Warmth spread from my chest to my neck.
His arms dropped to his sides before he took a step into the kitchen. “I swear, I can still remember the way you taste. A little salty. A little sweet.” Another determined stride.
I kept telling myself if I didn’t move, he’d just go away, even though I knew how well that worked for the kid inJurassic Park. The T-Rex threw himandthe damn Jeep over the cliff, and the closer Spencer came, I feared that was exactly where my wine bottle and I were headed. I could feel it.
The worn toe of his Van touched the tip of my Converse, and a cold sweat broke out over my body. With the warmth of his skin only inches away, the temptation to run my hands along once familiar paths caused my fingers to curl into my palms. His smell—a little clean, a little rugged, with just a spicy hint of cardamom that made me think of sex—enveloped me like a seductive invitation. His lips—God, I remembered how they felt like crushed velvet against my mouth, against my. . .
“The way you moaned,” he said, a rough edge to his tone. Spencer touched the dip of my waist in a feather-light embrace, and my knees threatened to go rubbery. “And fuck do I miss it.” His fingertips applied that perfect amount of pressure to my skin.
My pulse throbbed.
I left him because,because.. .
“Wait!” Lottie bustled into the kitchen. “Youknowhim? You didn’t just randomly run into him and bring him here. You know him?”
Every muscle in my body tensed. “I mean. . .”
Spencer’s chin dropped on a scoff, but his hand remained on my side, burning through the thin material of my shirt and scorching my skin.
