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“Honestly, I’m telling you, it really is something special between us. From his side, too.”
“Ugh, okay, so he’s fucked you into submission. I get it.”
I giggle. “Ah, the sex. How have I been missing out on this for so long?”
She laughs. “I told you. And you do look stupidly happy.”
I take her hand over the table. “I am, Beth. I’m so happy.”
“Good for you, Lottie Prescott.” She glances over and makes eye contact with Anthony, slowly turning her attention back to me. “Could you give Anthony my phone number?”
I glance around, and Anthony looks away guiltily. “Has something happened?”
“He just looks at me like he wants to eat me.”
I roll my lips to hide my smile. “That could be kind of good… couldn’t it?”
“Fuck, yes. Pass him my number and just say, I’m setting you up with Beth, so here’s her number. Give her a call and she’ll fuck you real hard.”
I laugh. “I am not saying that.”
“Fine, say whatever you want. Just make sure he calls me.”
“Okay.”
“Now tell me what’s happening tonight.” She smiles.
“I’m cooking Spencer dinner at his house,” I announce proudly.
Beth smirks. “Look at you, being all domesticated.”
“Do you want to come over?” I ask.
“Hopefully I will be occupied with Anthony’s dick in my mouth. Give him my number straight away when you leave. Don’t forget, will you?”
“He might not even call you.”
“As if he won’t.”
* * *
Swoony Mr Spencer.
It’s funny how quickly things become a habit.
And by things, I mean Spencer Jones.
Every night, we talk and eat dinner together, and then we lounge about and laugh all night, before he takes me to bed and makes me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world. Well, it’s not always sweet lovemaking. He mostly fucks me like he hates me, but man, I love it when he hates me hard.
I never dreamed that it could be this good or that I could feel this satisfied. For the first time in a long time, I’m living completely in the moment. I laugh all day at work and then my nights are full of Swoony Mr Spencer.
Things are good—really good.
I’m sprawled on the sofa, reading my book. My feet are in Spencer’s lap and he, too, is reading. He wasn’t joking in that email. He really is an avid reader.
“Can you turn the television off?” Spencer asks, never letting his eyes stray from the page.
“No, I have to have it on.”
