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“What?”
“The lack of freedom and their control.”
I frown at him. “What do you mean?”
“They know where you are every minute of every day. How do you stand it? Don’t you feel suffocated and just want to break free?”
My heart sinks. He’s the first person who’s ever got it. “More than you know.” I sigh sadly.
He looks over at me and grins mischievously.
“What?” I smirk.
“Maybe you should run away with me and join the bad girl club.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “I can teach you how to have fun in the dirtiest way possible.”
I chuckle as I look out the window. If only he knew how tempting that offer is. “I’m sure you could, Mr Mischief.”
He laughs and puts his hand on my thigh, like he’s done it a thousand times before.
This is the weirdest thing. He’s not getting romantic on me, he’s not trying to be perfect or pretend to be something he’s not, and it’s working. Second by second, I’m feeling more comfortable with him. All this honesty has him sliding right in under my skin.
God, he plays a good game.
“This is it, up here on the left,” I tell him.
We get to the large stone gates outside, and he glances over at me. “What’s the code?”
My eyes flicker nervously to Wyatt in the car behind us. I’m not supposed to give anyone the code to get in. “Eleven, zero, five,” I blurt out. I look at Wyatt through the passenger wing mirror and see he is getting annoyed.
Spencer pushes the code in and drives down the driveway. “This is my house here,” I say.
He parks the car and looks over at me as Wyatt’s headlights pull in closer behind us.
Spencer watches him in the rearview mirror. “This guy is pissing me off,” he mutters almost to himself, and then he opens his door. “Come on.”
I stare at him, confused. Does he think he’s coming in?
“I’m walking you to the door, Charlotte.” He rolls his eyes. “Fucking relax.”
“Oh.” I smile feeling stupid, and I get out of the car to follow him up the six stairs to the porch and my front door.
“Can I come in… for a coffee?” he asks.
I stare up at him as we stand in the darkness. “We have nothing in common, Spencer.”
“Spence,” he corrects me.
“We have nothing in common, Spence.”
He smiles down at me. “I don’t care.” He leans forward as if he’s going to kiss me, and I step back.
“See?” I snap.
“See what?” He frowns.
“This is why you can’t come in.”
“What is?”
