Page 233 of Mr Spencer (Mr. 2)


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“It’s okay, Spence, I trust you. You can go. I don’t want you to lose business over us.”

“Angel.” He smiles down at me. “I will not be held for ransom from an old lover and risk fucking up what I have in this room. She can jam the fucking contract up her arse for all I care.”

I look around at our surroundings, unable to stop myself from grinning. “We have two drunks in the corner of this room. I’m happy to sacrifice them,” I offer.

He laughs as he looks around at the two old men sitting drunk at the bar. “I wouldn’t even give up them.”

Spencer looks over and spots Wyatt, and I see a frown crease his brow. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

“How well do you know Wyatt?”

“Why?”

“Nothing.” He frowns. “Just something he said to me the other night has me weirded out a bit.”

“What did he say?”

“He asked me if I’d ever fucked a guy.”

I stop dancing again. “What?”

He widens his eyes. “Weird, right?”

“Seems I haven’t been the only thing he’s been watching then.”

“What does that mean?” He frowns.

“Wyatt is into men and women.”

“What?” he gasps.

I giggle at his surprise.

“How do you know this?” he whispers.

“We’re friends, of course I know this. He was in a three-way relationship with a woman and a man for over twelve months. They broke up last year.”

“You think he’s checking me out?” he whispers, completely terrified.

“No, I think that was his way of trying to tell you that he’s bisexual without coming out and actually saying it. When he said that to you, did you ask him the same question back? Because I know that’s how he told Edward.”

“What do you mean?”

“He asked Edward if he’d ever fucked a guy, and Edward said no, and then Edward asked him if he had. Of course, Wyatt said yes… that he swings both ways.”

Spencer’s eyes close, relief pouring out of him. “Thank fucking God. I thought there was some sinister paparazzi story being concocted about me. I was freaking the hell out.”

I laugh out loud. “Spencer, why don’t you just ask me these things instead of brewing on them for days?”

“Hell, woman.” He rests his cheek against mine. “I’ve aged thirty years since I met you.”

I smile up at him. “Spence?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t sing our song to me.”

“Hmm.” He closes his eyes. “There's a place I go when I'm alone.” He rocks us to his whispered song. “Do anything I want, be anyone I wanna be. But it is us I see, and I cannot believe I'm falling.” He pushes me out by the hand and twirls me under his arm, slowly bringing me back to him. “Dream catch me when I fall.”

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