Page 48 of Over You
I may have walked the streets of Venice, but I forwent the gondola ride.
I lived twenty-minutes from Stonehenge, and I’d only seen it from the road.
Maybe I had been holding out hope that we could still experience all of those things together.
The bus unloaded, and we followed the herd of people toward the one-level building set in the middle of a sprawling field.
Spencer stopped at the edge of the sidewalk, his gaze aimed at the black sign. “Stonehenge?”
I beamed. “I haven’t visited this yet.”
“Why would you bother? It’s just a bunch of stupid rocks.”
I felt my expression relax. He headed toward the ticket counter while I told myself I shouldn’t haveexpectedhim to remember.
Spencer paid for the tickets and held open the door to the museum. We stepped into a dark, circular room. Images of the monument scrolled over the walls while mystical music played in the background. Spencer stopped for a moment to read a line on the display, then headed toward the exit.
Kids dashed in and out of tiny straw huts.
“What is this,Lord of the Rings?”
“It’s a replica of the houses the people who built Stonehenge lived in.”
“They don’t even know who built the place.” He pulled Aviators from the collar of his shirt and put them on. “So where are the rocks?”
I pointed to the side of the building where a loading zone for the shuttle was. He shrugged and started around the corner.
“If you don’t want to be here, we can go,” I said.
“I’m fine.”
We stopped at the back of a line, and he leaned against the building. I didn’t know how to handle his sudden aloofness. Him going from swoon-worthy to distant gave my heart whiplash. Spencer’s phone chimed. Then dinged again and again.
“Fucking dicks.” He groaned when he took it from his pocket. He jabbed a finger at the screen. “I swear to God. I hate people. Everyone needs to just leave me alone.”
A teenager came out of the building behind me, swinging her souvenir-shop bag and popping gum. She slowed when she passed. Her gaze honed in on Spencer before she sprinted off and grabbed another girl from the line. Their eyes went wide, ping-ponging between each other and Spencer. A few shakes of their heads. A nod. They linked arms and took timid steps in our direction.
Pretty soon, they were right beside me, breathing hard and clinging to each other. “Ohmygod. Ohmygod. Lucy!”
Spencer looked up. I couldn’t see his eyes through the sunglasses, but his face was completely expressionless.
“It’s him!” They lunged toward him.
His back hit the wall, and he held up his hands while they pleaded for pictures. “Fine. Just. . .” He wriggled free of their hold. “Just get outta my personal space. Christ.”
Their ecstatic smiles vanished. Spencer may have been arrogant at times, but he had never been outright rude to fans—even if they were groping him.
“Do you have a camera or something?” he asked, tone clipped while he smoothed out the wrinkles in his shirt.
He huffed and tapped his foot like he had somewhere to be while one of them dug through her backpack. The camera shook in her hold.
“I can take the picture.” I held out my hand.
The girls stood on either side of him, their arms around his waist. He stood with his hands by his side.
“Okay. Smile. . .” The shutter clicked a few times. Spencer never grinned. I cleared my throat. “One more. Andsmile.”
The flash went off.
