Page 12 of Spencer's Satisfaction
In turn, I gave him the Cliff’s Notes version of my life. I have a single sibling (my twin sister), we were raised by our Nonna and grew up in a tiny town in bumfuck nowhere, I got kicked out of home after graduating high school, and we stayed in the first place I was able to find steady work.
Because we’ve already covered the big stuff, tonight our conversation turns more trivial, keeping things light and happy, which I am more than happy to do. He tells me all about Frank, his cat, and I lament that we can’t have pets in our little apartment. Then we discuss some of our favorite TV shows, and I grin when he confesses that he is addicted to baking competition shows.
“Tell me you’ve discoveredNailed It!” I beg just as Mandy, our bright and bubbly server, comes back with the fries and first round of wings from our share platter.
Spencer and I turn to thank her at the same time, shooting each other matching smirks before she nods and leaves us to our own devices again.
“Nailed It!is the one with Nicole Byer, right?” he asks me, reaching for a sauce slathered wing. “The one where the contestants are set up to fail?”
I laugh, munching on a couple of perfectly cooked fries. They’re crisp on the outside and soft on the inside, not too oily and dusted with a tasty blend of herbs and salt. So morish! “Yeah,” I answer after I swallow, “but it’s all in good fun, and it’s hilarious to watch.”
Oh, please let this man have a sense of humor.
“I’ve only watched an episode or two,” he confesses, “but I’ll admit, it was pretty funny. I’ll have to give it another shot.”
Whatever reply I was going to make dies as I watch him suck the bone of the chicken wing free of meat and sauce until it is clean as a whistle.
Holy fuck!
I’m pretty sure my brain short circuits at this point.
Oblivious, Spencer drops the bone into the bowl provided, where it clinks against the porcelain, and he reaches for a small bunch of fries. “So, I know you’re also into books,” he says, bringing up what has to be the worst subject ever now that my mind is already in the gutter. “Who are your favorite authors right now?”
“Uh…” I give myself a shake, trying to focus. Tearing my eyes away from his lips, I force myself to meet his gaze. “Um. That’s a hard, uh,difficultquestion.”
That wasn’t an awkward answer at all, Russo. Good job! Idiot.
My strange verbal stumble seems to grab his attention, because his lips quirk and he eyes me knowingly.
God damn it.
My cheeks burn and I avert my gaze, quickly trying to explain, “I don’tjustread or listen to porn.”
“Noted,” chirps Mandy from my side as she drops another selection of wings in between me and Spencer. I close my eyes and groan at her timing.
This. This is why I don’t date.
I can’t seem to do anything without humiliating myself somehow.
I vaguely hear Spencer thanking her, but my mortification is basically eating me alive from the inside now.
“She’s gone,” he tells me, but he doesn’t sound as amused as I thought he would. Instead, he sounds…concerned? “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he adds softly.
Thatgets my eyes to fly open in surprise and I gape at him. “I did that to myself,” I assure him, shrugging. “I’m…ugh,” my hands flap about in the air over our food as I try to put words to my dilemma, “I’m notgoodat social…stuff.”
Spencer’s gaze is soft and understanding. It almost makes me want to cry. And wouldn’t that just top off this date? Jesus, there’s no way he’s going to want anything to do with me after this.
I’m too much work. Too weird. Too childish. That’s what most guys tell me. And I’ve tried to change. I have. But I can’t. This is just who I am. And, right now, I think who I am sucks.
“In that case,” Spencer says, then waves Mandy back over and requests everything we’ve ordered to be packed up to go.
My heart plummets into my stomach.
This definitely has to be some sort of record. Officially fucking up a date so badly that we can’t even finish the meal.
With a tight throat, I attempt to fight back the sting of rejection and a little heartache (okay, a lot of heartache: I’d really built Spencer up in my head over the course of the week, after all.) I can feel tears prickling in my eyes and I have no idea how I’m going to walk out of here without letting on just how upset I am.
I’m so distracted by keeping my shit together that I don’t even notice Spencer has been talking to me.
