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Get it together, Spencer.I tell myself, clutching my hands into fists.It’s just an adventure, remember? Temporary. Fun. Nothing more.
But deep down, I question if that’s really true. Is this a fleeting moment of excitement in my otherwise ordinary life, or is this the beginning of something much, much more?
Chapter Twenty-Two
Spencer
Sunlightleaksthroughthecurtains, casting a warm glow over my room. My eyes flutter open as I stretch and yawn, suddenly aware of the butterflies fluttering in my stomach. Last night with Percival is still vivid in my mind; our bodies entwined, the sensual dance we shared. As nervous as I am about confronting him, it’s time to face the music.
As I sit up on the edge of the bed, my hands fidget nervously with the hem of my oversized hoodie. My thoughts race with uncertainty, like a tumbleweed blowing across a desolate highway. Where do we go from here? I’ve always been cautious, especially when it comes to matters of the heart. But there’s something about Percival that makes me want to throw caution to the wind, and it’s both thrilling and terrifying.
I stand up and wander over to the floor-length mirror, taking in my reflection. My green eyes are wide and searching, reflecting the storm of emotions brewing inside me. The smudged mascara beneath them tells a tale of passion, but also vulnerability. My cheeks flush at the memory of our heated encounter, and for a moment, I’m lost in the sensation of his strong arms around me, the warmth of his body pressed against mine.
But reality quickly sets in as I remember that he’s a notorious womanizer—a man who craves adrenaline, luxury, and the finer things in life. That’s not me. I’m just a simple girl who loves flipping furniture and dreams of painting masterpieces someday. We come from different worlds, and yet I can’t deny the magnetic pull between us.
“Okay, Spencer. Get it together,” I mutter to myself, determined to face the day. I fish out a clean pair of leggings and a t-shirt from my dresser and change into them, trying to shake off the lingering doubt and fear. “You’re stronger than this,” I remind myself, taking a deep breath.
I glance at the door, knowing that on the other side lies the answer to my questions—or maybe just more uncertainty. But I can’t hide away forever. So, with one last look in the mirror, I gather my courage and prepare to step into the unknown.
Gathering my courage, I step out of my room and make my way towards the kitchenette. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, guiding me to where Percival must be. As I round the corner, I see him lounging against the kitchen island, bare-chested, wearing grey sweatpants that hang low on his hips. He’s as gorgeous as ever, with his sun-kissed skin and tousled dark hair.
“Morning,” I sign, trying to keep my expression neutral despite the butterflies in my stomach.
Percival looks up from his mug, a scowl already etched on his face. Of course, I can’t hear his response, but the tension in his body speaks volumes. I brace myself for whatever comes next, determined to stand my ground.
“Look, about last night…” I start, my hands shaking slightly as I sign the words. “I don’t regret it, but we need to talk.”
A spark of surprise flickers in his dark eyes before he takes a deep breath and nods, setting his mug down on the counter. “Alright,” he signs back, his fingers moving with practiced ease. “Let’s talk.”
“First, I want you to know that I care about you,” I emphasize, my hands steady now as I express my thoughts. “But you should also understand that I’m not one of your usual conquests.”
“Spencer, I never thought of you as just another—” he begins, but I cut him off, needing to get this off my chest.
“Let me finish,” I insist, my green eyes locked on his. “I’ve heard all about the women who come and go in your life. And I’m fine with that, but I won’t share you while this lasts.”
For a moment, he just stares at me, his scowl replaced by an unreadable expression. Then, he leans back against the island and crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re right,” he signs slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. “I’ve had my fair share of fun and have nothing to be ashamed of. I’m a single man having fun with single women.”
Women, as in plural. I won’t go there. There is no point.
I glance at the floor, tapping my fingers against the kitchen island. My mind races with thoughts of the uncertainty surrounding us. I look back up at Percival, his toned body so close and yet emotionally still distant. “Listen…” I start, signing my words with purposeful movements. “I want to make something clear. If we’re going to try, it’s going to be on my terms.”
His eyebrows raise, curious as to what I’m about to say. I take a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. “First, we need to be honest with each other. Second, I want us to take things slow.” I pause, gauging his reaction before continuing. “Lastly, I need you to understand that my duties come first, and I’m not willing to give that up for anyone or anything.”
The tension turns thick as Percival processes my words, his gaze intense. A wave of vulnerability washes over me as I stand there, waiting for his response. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, trying to break free from the cage of my ribs.
“Alright,” he signs finally, nodding his head. “I can agree to those terms. Trust, take it slow, and support your dreams. But Spencer, you need to know that I have my own ambitions, too. We need to support each other equally.”
I nod, understanding the importance of balance in any relationship. “Agreed,” I sign, allowing myself to smile. “Respect for each other’s life and boundaries. Good.”
As I watch Percival’s face soften, the sunlight pours through the window, casting a warm glow on his skin. For a moment, my world seems to be here like a blank canvas waiting for us to paint our story. Together, we’ll navigate this step by step. And maybe, just maybe, we’ll find what we’re looking for along the way.
A flicker of something indefinable sparks in Percival’s dark eyes as he meets my gaze, and I wonder what thoughts are running through his mind. His demeanor shifts, the tension between us seeming to dissipate like fog under the bright California sun.
“Alright, Spencer,” he signs, his fingers moving with a newfound ease. “I’m in. Let’s do this.”
We both stand there for a moment, taking in the significance of our decision. The possibilities stretch out before us like the Pacific Coast Highway. I feel a thrill deep in my chest, the kind that comes from setting off on a new journey, where the destination is unknown, but the ride is exhilarating.
“Are you hungry?” Percival asks suddenly, his hands waving animatedly. “I’m thinking about whipping up some breakfast tacos. You game?”
