Page 30 of Over You
“Georgia! How could younotbloody tell me this?”
Spencer leaned down, placing his lips by my ear. “You hate me so much that you pretend we never existed?” He shoved away from me and drunkenly stumbled into the counter.
Lottie tossed her hands in the air. “At least tell mehowyou know him. Why he’s in our house.” Her gaze shifted to the corner of the room, and she touched an apologetic hand to her heart. “Not that I care. I’m honored, really. Just make yourself at home. Would you like some tea?” She started toward the stove and grabbed the kettle.
“Lottie, he doesn’t want tea.”
But she already had the kettle under the tap, filling it.
Spencer glowered at me. “How do you know if I want tea or not?”
“Oh, my God! You don’t drink tea.”
“Maybe I started drinking it. I’d love tea.” He glanced at Lottie and grinned. Then his gaze was back on me, narrowing while a smirk played at his lips. “Why don’t you tell her how we know each other, Georgia Anne?”
This was not a road I wanted to, nor was I prepared to go down right now. I dug my fists into my hips and cocked a brow. “Why don’t you go somewhere else?”
“I’ve got tea coming.” Spencer leaned against the cabinets, braced his palms on the counter, and crossed one ankle over the other. And that pose right there could have graced the cover ofVogue. “So,Lottie, much to Georgia’s dismay, we used to date. It ended in nothing too serious. You know, justmarriage.”
“What?” Lottie glared at me on her way back to the stove with the pot. One twist of her wrist and the gas ticked before the flame caught. “I’m sorry.” Laughing, she dropped the kettle onto the burner with a clang. “Georgia?You’rethe estranged wife? You’rehiswife?He’sthe ex you told me about on the train.The.Ex.”
“Oh. I’m not her ex-anything.” He hiccupped before patting Lottie on the cheek. “Those papers haven’t been signed.”
Her lip went into a spasm. “You’re married to Spencer Hailstorm, and you never thought to mention that?”
The cat was out of the bag. Howling and scratching. I dropped my chin to my chest. “Shit.”
“I feel like I don’t even know you right now.”
“It’s a sore subject, Lottie. Don’t take it personally.”
“A fucking sore subject,” Spencer grumbled and pushed away from the counter with a shake of his head.
This was the Twilight Zone, and I desperately wanted out. “Anyway, Spencer, Lottie’s a huge fan. Have your tea. Make her day.I’ll leave the divorce papers by the door for you.”I placed the wine on the table on my way into the living room.
“Where are you going?” he shouted. Something banged into the wall—most likely him. “Hey!”
“To bed.”
“Hell, ye-ah. That’s more like it!” Spencer was right behind me by the time I reached the steps, the wine to his lips while he chugged.
“What are you doing?”
The bottle moved away from his mouth. “Coming to bed.”
“You don’t need any more alcohol.” I snatched the wine from his grasp. “And you are most definitelynotcoming to bed with me.”
“Come on, Georgia.” His shoulder brushed mine when he passed by with an arrogant gleam in his eyes like he knew he was my weakness. Two steps in front of me, he tripped. Instead of standing, he proceeded to crawl, on his hands and knees, up the stairwell. “Just one night.”
This was not good. Not good at all. He needed to get out of here. “Where are you staying?”
He managed to stand at the top of the stairwell. “I haven’t worked that out yet.”
“Well, work it out. Because you aren’t staying here.”
He snorted before making a dramatic, Jack Sparrow-like spin before he stumbled down the hall as if he knewexactlywhere he was going.
I started up the steps after him. “Would you get out of my house?”
