God, I need him. Crave him. I’d gone along with this bet only because Spencer had seemed so determined to win it. Had I realized how it would affect me… I never would have agreed. Would have refused outright. Because now I’m consigned to that damn toy again. And this time, it’s made worse since I’m fueled by memories and daydreams of him, as well as the mounting irritation that there’s still two more weeks before he can fulfill every single last message he’s sent me.
For someone who once needed a different girl every night, Spencer sure is excelling at waiting for me.
The thought both irritates and thrills me. Until another girl steps up to the register and smacks her hand on the counter.
“Can I get some fucking service here?” she says. I almost drop my phone when I see Spencer’s ex.
I recover quickly, hiding my phone and the message on the screen—the one about where Spencer wants to put his tongue the minute we get naked again. Poising a hand over the register, I give Meegan a flat stare. “How can I help you?”
She orders a non-fat latte with three extra pumps of caramel and sugar-free syrup.
I wrinkle my nose. Sugar-free syrup? But I don’t point out the process of making syrup kind of, you know, involves sugar. Mostly because Meegan moves down the counter to where Dawn stands, ignoring the build up of messy dishes in the sink. Though technically, I’m on cash duty and she’s on drinks, my co-worker starts chatting with Meegan.
Rolling my eyes, I begin making the drink, since no one’s in line behind her. The sooner I get Meegan her oxymoronic coffee, the sooner she can leave, and I don’t have to think about Spencer calling her his girl.
“He’s totally fucking disappeared,” I overhear Meegan say.
Dawn asks, “Who?”
“Spencer.”
I spill non-fat milk on the counter. Neither look my way as I clean it up. The whirring of the frother sounds over their voices, but I strain to listen as they continue talking.
“—sent him a video of me sucking off that guy at Bella’s. Last time I did that, he tracked me down at every party I went to that week—”
Clang!
I glare at the counter, foamy milk sloshed all over it and the electric frother on the floor. Dawn and Meegan glance over, snickering at the wet spot on my apron. I send back a cold look, wipe up the mess, and restart mixing the coffee with whole milk.
“You think he’s fucking someone?” Meegan asks Dawn. For a moment, I think I spot a flash of concern on her face. It’s quickly replaced with anger. “If I find out he’s got some whore somewhere—”
“No fucking way,” Dawn rushes to placate her friend. “He’s obsessed with you…”
Meegan preens with reassurance. I finish off her latte with a foam drawing of a penis, then cap the cup and plunk it in front of her just as Rylie walks in for her shift.
My roommate rolls her eyes at me when she sees the other two girls, and I mouth, Wait for it.
Meegan takes a sip. Grimaces. “This caramel tastes funny.”
Caramel. Passion fruit. And just a teensy splash of root beer.
Rylie hides a smile behind her hand as I blink wide-eyed and shrug. “Huh. Weird.”
* * *
“Are you still in contact with your ex?”
Spencer swears as something clamps the tips of his fingers. He jumps back from his motorcycle, shaking out his hand, then wipes it on his shirt. Grease streaks the fabric. “Who, Meegan? Fuck no.”
I frown, leaning against the worktable in Main Desire’s back shed. After things had become a bit too heated on the couch inside the house, he’d brought me out here to hang while he tinkers on his bike. Like having a giant hunk of metal between us would stop me from wanting to tear off that shirt. That dirty, dirty shirt…
Debating how I can convince him to fit in a load of laundry while we have this hour together, so I can watch him take off said dirty shirt, I almost miss his follow up response.
“But if you ask if she’s still in contact with me?” Spencer scowls as he goes at his bike again with a ratchet. “…Yes.”
A torrential downpour had begun the moment we entered the shed. Now I stare at the ceiling, listening to the raindrops hitting it.
“Why?” I ask him.
“Because she’s pissed I broke up with her? That I’ve fucked my way through campus? Maybe it’s just that she’s fucking crazy, I don’t know. You’ll have to ask her.”
“No,” I shake my head. I can fathom why Meegan wouldn’t be over Spencer. Who wouldn’t want to give up the perfect boyfriend? Especially one that looks like Spencer. “Why do you let her?”
Spencer stands from his kneeling position with a scowl. “You think I haven’t tried to stop her?”
He comes over to the worktable and sets down his tools. I pass him a rag for his hands, watching as he methodically wipes down each finger.
“Because I have. I avoid every bar or party I think she might be at. Still, she shows up wherever the fuck I go. She sends me these fucking messages—Videos and pictures and all this dumb fucking shit of her with other assholes. I delete every single one. I changed my number three times, and still, she gets it. Nothing fucking works.”
“But you…” My face scrunches as I try to hold back tears. “You still react.”
He throws the rag on the table. “You reacted to that picture of Keeland.”
My skin flushes. The one of another girl kissing Ash. I’d told him about it over spring break.
But the way I’d reacted… had been to run to Spencer. To start something with him to help me get over my ex. Something infinitely better than I thought possible. It hadn’t been to punch anything.
Then again, my reaction had been for me. To take pleasure for myself with
