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ChapterTwenty-Seven
TESS
I stay in the camp office, peeking out the window, until Spencer heads up to the cabins. For the record, I don’t really have work to do. At least not anything important. Mrs. Lockhart was with me at movie night, so I don’t have to send her a summary report. And I already have tomorrow’s camp schedule ready to post first thing in the morning. Earlier today, I confirmed that the extra food we need for the barbecue will be delivered on time. I’ve got everything in hand and under control.
Except my feelings for Spencer.
I hate that he just gave up and let me walk away like that. Then again, Itoldhim to kiss me. And I’m kind of his boss. How could he say no? But he must have regrets now. Instant buyer’s remorse. If my lips were for sale, that is.
The evidence is so obvious. I’ve known Spencer for years, and he’s never looked at me twice. And that hardly makes him special. This has happened with every other guy I’ve known. They all see me as their buddy. The fun McCoy. Not a woman you desire. That’s why I didn’t bother telling him we couldn’tfraternizein the first place. I imagined him laughing in my face at the prospect, which is the last thing my ego needed.
So yes. He got caught up in the moment when I told him to kiss me. Or he got caught up in Frank’s bet. Either way, Spencer doesn’t actually want me.
He couldn’t, could he?
What Idoknow for sure is this: I can’t be mad at him about the bet. At least not without being a total hypocrite. He risked a lot, being honest with me now. And sure, the truth bomb about the stupid wager came a little late, but I haven’t been fully honest with Spencer either.
For weeks now, I’ve ignored … feelings … I never saw coming. Because those feelings scared me. Caring about anyone scares me. And wanting someone as different from me as Spencer scares me the most.
But instead of telling him—or myself—the truth, I went into full-on Tess mode. I started deflecting, whirling, tornado-ing up our lives. Giving us a chance felt way too risky. So I did my best to avoid the one person I should have talked to. Not to mention, I pushed him closer to Kayla. I claimed she was into him without any real confirmation. I used Kayla like Spencer used me. I didn’t see it that way at the time, because I didn’t think. And Spencer thinkstoomuch. I don’t have to like it, but I can’t hate the guy either.
I’m too busy falling for him.
That’s why I took off tonight before I said something I’d regret. I need to clear my head and try to think logically. Logic has never been my strong suit. But in order to rid myself of Spencer, I’ve got to think like Spencer. That’s the other thing I know for sure now:
Irony isn’t my friend.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, so I check the text.
Emi: You must’ve done a great job cleaning up the place, because we got three new offers on the house this week. Thank you so, so much. Nash says thank you too. I would have FaceChatted instead of texting, but I know it’s late, and you’re busy with camp. Call me when/if you’re free. Love you. Miss you! Bye!
My stomach dives even lower than it was. Like an elevator barreling toward the lower-level parking garage. I’m sure Emi didn’t mean to blow up my world in a text, but that doesn’t make the news any less like an explosion. This is happening. The home on the river where I finally started to feel like an adult—is going to be sold.
To strangers.
I shove my phone back into my pocket, and make my way—like a zombie—up to the cabins. The lights are out already, so I wash my face and change in the dark. Then I crawl into bed as quietly as possible. My heart is aching, and the morning feels far away.
I can’t even imagine sleeping.
And the only person I want to talk to right now is Spencer.
