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Chapter Three
Sleep didn’t come easy.Between the time difference and the two cups of coffee I ended up drinking, it was close to three o’clock before I was finally able to crawl in bed. Once I was about to drift off to sleep, I heard a noise. The floor creaked as if someone was standing outside of my door. The thought alone caused my adrenaline to soar.
Which is why I’m standing outside of the Java Bean right now, debating on going inside. I had two cups of coffee with the omelet Ruth made me this morning, but they didn’t even faze me. I could have drunk an entire pot of coffee and I have a feeling I would have been able to fall back asleep no problem. Still, a double-shot vanilla latte with skim milk sounds amazing right now. Extra-large. Maybe two. More than anything, it’s necessary if I want to make it through the meeting I have with the dean in less than thirty minutes.
Going inside brings with it a new set of emotions, though. Emotions I’m not sure I’m strong enough to handle on the little sleep I was able to get. Memories that will tear me apart and bring me back to a time I’ve tried to bury down deep because I’m not sure I’ll even be able to handle reliving them.
“You gonna stare at her through the window all day or go inside and say hello?”
Letting out a sigh, I turn to face the familiar voice even though I’m not entirely sure I’m ready. This weekend is already starting to feel like I’m ripping off band-aid after band-aid. Reopening wounds that have never fully healed. Wounds I’ve tried to ignore instead of deal with.
“Spencer,” I say, walking into his open arms. When they wrap around me in a warm embrace, a single tear falls.
Damn it.
I promised I was going to keep myself in check. Yet, my damn tears didn’t seem to get the memo. I blame the lack of sleep.
He feels the same as I remember. His large body has always made me feel safe though the first time I met him, I was slightly intimidated. He had shaved his head bald after losing a bet. Between his size, his shiny new dome, and the leather jacket he was wearing, he looked like he was in a biker gang. All that was missing was the motorcycle.
One conversation was all it took for me to realize I had judged a book by its cover. He was sweet and cuddly. More like a teddy bear, even without the hair. He never took himself or anything seriously. When he wasn’t cracking jokes, he was dancing around like a fool or poking fun at us girls. His teasing was relentless. He always found a way to use our words against us. Mainly turning any normal comment into a sexual innuendo.
When I would stay up late studying and complain,”I didn’t get enough sleep last night.”
His response would always be,”Who was the lucky guy?”
If I was talking to Mia about needing my hair done and say something along the lines of,‘My hair’s a mess.”
He would respond with,‘Who was pulling on it?”
After working all night, I’d plop down on their couch and throw my feet up on the table with Sam by my side. One of us would always say,‘My feet hurt.”
Spencer’s comeback?‘You mean your knees? We’re you down on them again?”
After a while, you could almost anticipate what he was going to say. Still, there were times he would surprise me by offering to rub my feet or brush my hair instead of making a witty remark. Or the time he came home with three little foot spas and set them out for us girls, pampering us for a few hours.
“It’s good to see you, Andi. I missed you, my California beauty queen.” I can hear the sincerity in his words as he squeezes me tightly, holding me pressed against his chest.
Smiling against his shirt, I can’t help but giggle at the ridiculous nickname he gave me the first time we met. I had hoped it wouldn’t stick but it did. However, he wouldn’t let anyone use it. Not even Jay, his best friend and roommate. Though he did on more than one occasion to piss Spencer off. Usually when we were all good and drunk.
Always after Spencer and I beat him and Sam at beer pong.
“I missed you, too, Spence,” I admit, taking a step back as he holds me at arm’s length. “You look exactly the same. How is that possible? Do you not age?”
“I can’t give away all my secrets,” he replies with a smirk.
“Mia’s been making you use those creams on your face, hasn’t she?” I tease, knowing damn well there’s a strong possibility it’s actually true. Before he can deny it, I change the subject. “Where is Mia?”
“Working, per usual. I promised her we’d stop by after our meeting so she could see you but now I’m reconsidering.” Spencer taps his finger against his lips as if he’s thinking hard about the decision. As if he really has a choice. Regardless, I’ll play along.
“What? Why?” I ask, the bell above the Java Bean door startling me as a middle-aged man comes barreling out.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like shit, Andi. Did you even sleep last night?” I can hear the concern in his voice laced with mock horror.
“I think the Hideaway is haunted. I kept hearing footsteps outside of my door, so no, I didn’t get much sleep,” I confess as I tuck a stray curl behind my ear, averting my gaze.
“Which means you need coffee yet you’re standing out here instead of in there.”
All I can do is nod, my eyes still focused on the bike rack behind him as the bell chimes again, but I don’t notice anyone walk past us this time. I don’t have to wait long to find out why when a pair of skinny arms wrap around me from behind at the same time lips are pressed against my cheek.
