Chapter 16
ALFIE
Ifind Drake hovering outside, smoking a cigarette. I don’t say anything but I know Lisa hates it when he does that and he promised to stop once they got married.
“She’s a firecracker, that one.” Drake laughs. “She’s telling Mother about the most recently found dinosaur bones. I mean, that’s surely not first impression conversation?”
I should laugh along. Should agree it’s inappropriate. It would get Drake off my back. Instead, all I can think about is how Tara’s smile makes me want to smile too.
How she makes everything feel more alive.
“She’s not right for this world,” Drake continues. “Not Spencer material.”
“No,” I agree quietly, but for entirely different reasons. Because she’s too genuine, too bright for our shadows. Because I’m starting to want things I can’t have.
“CalTech, huh?” He taps out the ash. “Grandpa would’ve loved that.”
Something in his voice makes me pause. “Drake.”
“No, really.” He turns, and for once his smile seems genuine. “He always said one of us would end up there. Used to bore everyone at board meetings talking about his research days.” He laughs softly. “Drove Father insane.”
I shift awkwardly. “I didn’t think you remembered all that.”
“The telescope lessons? The way he’d sneak us up to his study during Mother’s parties to look at Jupiter?
” Drake takes a drink from the crystal glass he’s got rested on a brick wall; I hadn’t noticed before.
“Of course, I remember. I just... somebody had to carry on Dad’s legacy in aviation. Keep the family business going.”
The words hang between us, heavy with everything we’ve never said. With choices made and paths not taken.
“You could’ve—” I start, but he waves me off.
“No, I couldn’t. Not really.” He sets his glass down. “But you can. You’re actually good at it. The science stuff, I mean. Like he was.”
I don’t know what to say to this Drake. This version who remembers telescope lessons and admits he has dreams. Or feelings.
“Besides,” he adds, his familiar smirk sliding back into place, but it seems more practiced than natural now, “someone’s got to keep Father’s empire running while you’re off playing with space rocks.”
“They’re mineral formations,” I correct automatically.
“Whatever you say, little brother.” He claps me on the shoulder as he heads for the door, then pauses. “Just…don’t fuck it up.”
He’s gone back inside before I can respond, leaving me alone with confusing thoughts whirling around.
I’m still pissed at him for bringing everyone here.
I still wish he’d have found out about CalTech in another way, I almost feel guilty.
Which is so fucked considering all the shit he’s given me over the years.
“Ready?”
Tara approaches me, looking so fucking beautiful it takes my breath away. She’s just finished saying goodbye to Drake, and I can’t resist pulling her close as she reaches me, my lips brushing her ear.
I’m pretty tipsy, she looks great and I just want to forget this dinner ever happened. What’s the harm in me flirting with my fake girlfriend a little? I reason with myself.
“You look so good tonight,” I murmur, enjoying the way she immediately tenses. “I’ve been wondering how you might taste all night.” I let my voice drop lower.
I watch with satisfaction as her eyes go wide, that pretty blush I love spreading across her cheeks. She opens her mouth, probably to tell me off, but I stay close, enjoying how her breath catches.
“Alfie.” She starts, but I cut her off by letting my thumb trace her bottom lip. I know I’m towing the edge, crossing some invisible line, but right now I don’t fucking care.
“Yes?”
“Oh, don’t let me interrupt.” Gran’s amused voice startles Tara, making her jump away from me as if she has been burned. “Though I’d suggest getting a room first. That’s what we used to do”
I straighten but don’t step back, enjoying how Tara’s still flustered. Gran’s eyes dance with knowing as she looks between us.
“I was just saying goodnight to Tara.”
“Mm-hmm.” Gran’s knowing look says she isn’t fooled.
“Oh! Look at that, our Uber is here. Bye, Irine, it was a pleasure to meet you.” Tara smiles wide, still slightly embarrassed.
“You too, dear.”
I laugh and realize for the first time in years, I actually sort of enjoyed a family dinner. Well, didn’t hate every single second. I know exactly why.
With a wave to Gran, I open Tara’s door for her.
“I can open my own door.” She looks up through her lashes, challenge in her eyes.
“I know, Tink.”
She slides in, and I catch the faint scent of her perfume—something light and floral that makes me want to lean in closer but I stop myself, keeping my feet rooted. I close her door carefully, using the moment to compose myself.
Watching her handle my family tonight was.
.. enlightening. I’ve seen society girls crumble under my mother’s careful scrutiny, watched Lisa reduce dates to tears with her perfectly aimed questions.
But Tara? She deflected every thrust, handled every subtle dig with a grace I’m still trying to understand.
Our driver is thankfully silent. I am not in the mood to talk with anybody else tonight. Well, anybody but the woman sitting next to me.
The engine’s purr fills the silence.
From the corner of my eye, I catch Tara’s leg bouncing up and down.
“You okay?”
Her head snaps toward me. “Yeah, why?”
I exhale slowly. “I need to thank you. For tonight. I had no idea they would all show up. We can end this tomorrow. I’ll tell them we broke up if you want. I wouldn’t blame you for it, I mean––”
“Are they always like that?” she interrupts.
“Like what?” I ask, though I know exactly what she means.
“Like... vultures.” She claps a hand over her mouth, eyes wide.
A belly laugh escapes me, not the polite chuckle I’ve perfected for family functions.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” she rushes out. “They’re your family. I shouldn’t compare them to vultures. Sorry, I must be tired, or maybe I’ve had too much champagne. I have to admit that champagne was really freakin’ good.”
“Yes, they’re always like that. But I’ve never seen anyone handle them the way you did tonight.”
I place my hand on her thigh. Her leg stills under my palm, and the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of her dress makes my blood run hot. I squeeze gently, then force myself to focus on trees moving past us out of the window.
“Really? God, I feel like I messed up. I should have made up something better about my parents, something more impressive—”
“Tara.” Her name comes out rougher than intended. “Don’t. Never suggest that again. Who you are, the truth of who you are, is...” I struggle for words. “Perfect. And I’ll never ask you to pretend to be anything else. Ok?”
The weight of what I’ve admitted sits between us in the dark car. I wonder if she can hear what I’m really trying to say.
You’re real. You’re genuine. You’re everything this world I come from isn’t.
The silence stretches, but it’s not uncomfortable. Just charged. I’m too aware of my hand still resting on her thigh, of how her dress has ridden up slightly. I should move it.
I don’t.
Because I’m an asshole.
“So,” she says, her voice slightly breathless, “your grandmother seems fun.”
“Careful. She might adopt you if you keep making her laugh like that.” I’m grinning. Gran really did seem to like Tara. She’s the most like me out of the whole family, even though she’s a lot crazier than I am.
“Might be worth it just to see your face again when your mother mentioned the debutantes.”
I snort. “You have no idea how many garden parties I’ve had to escape. Always some friend’s daughter who just happens to be visiting...”
“Poor baby,” she teases. “All those girls throwing themselves at the mysterious Alfie Spencer.” The way she draws out my name makes me want to hear what it would sound like if she screamed it.
“Hardly mysterious. Just antisocial.”
“Please.” Her hand lands on mine, but instead of pushing it away, her fingers intertwine with mine on her leg. “You’re a living enigma. Who are you? What do you stand for? What’s your game? I want to figure it all out.”
“Do you now?”
“Yes,” she answers fast. “I’ve already got the picture; you’re like an eligible bachelor from Bridgerton.”
“That’s a terrible description.”
“Is it?” She shifts in her seat, turning toward me. “Rich boy rebels against family expectations, secretly passionate about science, probably has a tragic backstory involving boarding school...”
“I never went to boarding school.”
“No? Damn, there goes my theory about your mysterious past.”
I squeeze her thigh, maybe a little higher than strictly necessary. Her breath catches. “You think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?”
“Not even close.” Her voice barely carries in the night air. “But I’d like to.”
The Uber pulls into her apartment complex parking lot. I close out the ride, making sure to tip well - the poor guy had to deal with our tension the entire way home.
“Wait,” Tara says as she steps out. “Look at the stars. You can actually see them tonight.”
I follow her gaze upward. She’s right, the mountains block most of the city’s light pollution, leaving the sky impossibly clear. But I find myself watching her instead - the way moonlight catches in her hair, how she tilts her head back like she’s trying to absorb the whole universe.
“You remind me of a supernova,” I say before I can stop myself.
She turns to me, startled. “What?”
“The way you affect people. You just... explode into their lives with this incredible light.” The words feel raw, too honest. “I’ve watched you do it - make Alex braver, get Ethan to actually care about something, even make my Gran laugh again after years of silence.
” I swallow hard. “You did it to me, too.”
“What do you mean?” Her voice is soft, careful.
“When I’m around you, it’s like...” I struggle for words that won’t reveal too much. “Like I can’t help but catch some of that light. You make it impossible to stay in the shadows.”