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CHAPTER 5
SPENCER
Iwoke to the sound of the front door slamming. The sky was still dark, the yard birds still sleeping. The clock on the dresser read half past three. Leon called out softly.
“Spencer? You home?”
I tensed where I lay, hardly daring to breathe. Could he hear both our breathing from out in the hall? Could he sense us both here? And what of our clothes? I tried to remember if we’d shed any outside, or if we’d waited till we got to bed.
Leon paused for a moment outside Izzy’s door, then he trudged on and into the kitchen. He made a disgusted sound and I remembered our hot chocolate, the bowl going crusty where Izzy had left it. She’d used one of his bowls. I’d meant to remind her. Leon hated when we used his bowls and didn’t at least soak them.
I listened to him banging around in the kitchen, rinsing his bowl out, and likely our mugs. Putting the pot away. Unloading the dishwasher. He must’ve had a bad night, to be doing all that. When Leon got frustrated, he liked to clean. Most of the time, I loved him for it. Having a clean house, who wouldn’t want that? But now, I lay stiffly, grinding my teeth.
C’mon, enough dishes. Get your ass to bed.
Leon sighed loudly, maybe hoping I’d hear him — hear him and know he’d cleaned up my mess. I heard the squirt of a spray bottle, the sound of the garbage can opening and closing, and then he came plodding back down the hall. He passed Izzy’s door again and turned down to his own room, and a few seconds later, I heard his door close.
Finally.
I kissed Izzy’s head, all fragrant and sleep-warm, then slid out of bed and into my pants. I found my shirt in her hamper and shrugged that on too. Then I crept out and down the dark hall. I was easing past Leon’s door when it cracked open.
“I thought I heard you,” he said. “You left my bowl out.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I was just going to grab it.”
His brows beetled. “Now? Hold on, where did you come from? I was just in the kitchen, and?—”
“The laundry,” I said.
“What, in the dark?”
“Who are you, the cops?” I threw up my hands in mock-frustration. “I didn’t want to wake Izzy, so I left the lights off. I was just there a second, changing my shirt.”
Leon glanced past me. “Weird I didn’t hear you. I was right in the kitchen. Why didn’t you say hi at least?”
“Because you looked mad.”
He blew out his cheeks and leaned on the doorframe. “Not mad at you, if that’s what you’re thinking. Work was just crazy, and that new guy quit. Pitched a whole fit over the mushrooms, thought he could… fuck it. Never mind. It’s just been a day is all. How was your game?”
“We won,” I said.
“No kidding? That’s great.” He clapped me on the shoulder, but I shrugged him off.
“You gotta act so surprised?”
“Not surprised. Happy.”
“Your brows are surprised.”
“My brows? Go to bed.” Leon gave me a shove and I headed off, chuckling. I jogged back to my room and shut the door softly, and let out a long breath as I leaned up against it. I’d almost blown our puck-buddy cover, the very first night of our secret affair. From now on, we’d have to be a whole lot more careful. No falling asleep again. No bending the rules.
I came home after practice a few days after that, and Izzy was in the garage changing her oil. I don’t know what the hell was so sexy about that, her legs sticking out from under her bumper, but I dropped my gym bag to watch her work. She must’ve heard me or spotted my boots, because she called out to me.
“Did you need to get in?”
“Nah, you’re okay.” I crouched down to watch her replacing her filter, oiling the gasket to make a tight seal.
“I can do yours if you want,” she said.
