“Damn,” I say, trying to act cool. “You’re a romantic.”
“Who would have thought?”
“Not me. You were never this sweet when we were going out before.”
“Cut me some slack, I was seventeen, and trying to be cool.”
“You drove a beat-up Renault Clio. You were never going to be cool.”
“Oh.” He clutches his heart with his free hand. “I can’t believe you are judging my old car. The Clio was good enough to get us to the beach.”
“Apart from that time we broke down and your dad had to come and get us from the side of the road at one o’clock in the morning.”
“Yeah, besides that night. It wasn’t a total bust, though. We stood on the embankment with you huddled upto me, face on, not an inch of space between us.”
“I was freezing.”
“I couldn’t sleep that night from thinking about you. I wanted to go back and do it all again. You don’t know how disappointed I was that my car made it home every other time.” I don’t have time to respond before Spencer says, “Good view up here.”
That’s like saying Jason Mamoa is mildly attractive.
“It’s incredible, and we’re not even there yet. All the cars look tiny. There aren’t many people up here.”
“It’s a fairly quiet time to come,” he tells me, as if he does this all the time. He probably asked his people. Spencer has ‘people’ who take care of a lot of things a grown man should do for himself.
Someone even makes reservations for him, and I know Spencer is fully capable of ordering food. We’ve had no end of pizzas over the years.
The sun is shining down on us like we have a long summer – or winter – stretched out. We have today. I shouldn’t complain. It’s not like we’ll never see each other again, and I’m going home knowing that we’re way more than friends who struggle to keep in touch now.
Spencer and I are together, and we’ll both have to make this work.
The ground is uneven, and we have to climb up and try not to fall down. Spencer clutches my hand and helps me step up a steep rock. He’s not let go of me since we arrived. It’s like he’s trying to get all of the touching in before I leave.
“Thanks,” I say, accidentally walking into his hard chest. Hello, six pack. That might not have been accidental.
With a smirk, he raises his eyebrow, and I’m busted. “You’re a little pervert, Indie.”
“You corrupted me yesterday.”
He wraps his arms around my back and pulls me flush against his chest. “Why, yes, I did.”
His lips seal over mine, and I suddenly don’t care about those very big letters on the hill, or the stunning view. All I want is Spencer taking over every one of my senses for the rest of my life.
Twenty-Four
Spencer
After a hike, we go back to my apartment for lunch and a bath. I’m usually a shower kind of guy, but Indie’s converted me. I don’t think they’ll be much fun without her, though.
When we got out, covered in bubbles and dripping wet, we had sex on my bed. It’s still soaked, but I honestly couldn’t care less.
Now we’re having dinner with my parents before they have to leave. This is a moment I’ve been dreading since they arrived. Having them here has made me acutely aware of how alone I am. Ella and Ethan are great—Denny and Jared, too—but they’re not family. Tomorrow, I have a full schedule, which means Jared will no longer give me as much space. At least keeping busy will stop me from going insane.
I’ve taken Indie and my parents to the best Mexican restaurant in town. We’re on our second round of nachos, and our third mojito.
Mum shakes her head. “I still can’t believe my son is known here—and everywhere—by name. They treat you like royalty. They call you Mr Lowe.”
She’s said that about seven times so far.
“Yes, Mum,” I say, grinning in amusement.
“No way are we calling you Mr Lowe,” Indie teases, grabbing a tortilla chip from the bowl in the middle of the table.
I roll my eyes. I wouldn’t mind her calling me Mr Lowe in bed.
“We’re going to miss you,” Mum says, pouting. “The house isn’t the same without your mess and that racket you call music.”
“He’s twenty now. It’s time he was finding his own place, anyway.” Dad smirks.
“Wow, so not only is it ridiculous that people know me by name, but I’m also getting kicked out. This has been a delightful visit, guys, thanks for coming.”
“We’re only teasing. When will we see you again?” Mum asks. “Anything longer than a month is unacceptable.”
“The audition is next week. After that, I’ll know how long I have.” My eyes slide to Indie. “I’m definitely back over Christmas and again for appearances in March.”
She gives me a doubtful smile, and I can see that she doesn’t think I’ll be home for long. She wants me to get the part, and she also doesn’t.
I get it. Part of me wants longer between movies but this is how it goes. Sometimes it will be back to back, and on other occasions, I’ll have time.
The worst part is that we can only make plans when I’m sure of my schedule. There’s no booking a holiday until we know when I’ll be working. Soon, she’ll graduate and start her career. There will be even less time available.
“You’ll get it,” Dad says. “I’ve been on that tweet thing and seen that the movie is trending. There are a lot of pictures of you.”
Indie and I grin at ‘that tweet thing’.
“Apparently, you’re too hot,” Indie tells me. “Women have been gushing over you on Twitter and Instagram all day.”
“You should stop looking.”
She shakes her head. “Nope, I don’t think I will.”
Like watching other women want what’s yours, do you?
It’s good to be hers again, finally.
Our main dishes arrive,
