3. Grady
CHAPTER 3
GRADY
Crickets chirp in the tall grass, audible now that everyone else has gone home for the night. Ally and Mason have retreated inside the cabin, leaving Spencer and I alone in the driveway. It’s dark save for the glow of the moon and the porch light attracting some dizzy-looking moths. The air has chilled and Spencer is shivering in her camisole.
“I have an extra jacket on my bike if you want,” I offer, opening the compartment on the back that houses my helmet and my leather bomber jacket. I feel less nervous around her now, having sat across the firepit from her all night. It was like exposure therapy if I had a phobia of beautiful, intimidating women. “And you’ll need this.” I hand over the jacket—which she accepts and throws over her shoulders—and my helmet. She loosens the messy bun that her hair has been falling out of all night, and the red waves are finally free to cascade over her shoulders in a way that makes my breath catch in my throat. Her hair is still wild, falling down her back as she clips the helmet on under her chin.
“What about you? Don’t you need a helmet?” Spencer looks between me and the bike. I pull my baseball cap out of my back pocket and throw it on backwards, the way I like it, so it doesn’t blow off in the wind.
“Sure, I normally wear one. But I’ve only got one, and we have to make sure that pretty little head of yours is protected.” I place a hand on the top of her head and wobble the helmet around. “Besides, we’re not going far.”
I offer Spencer my hand, and she takes it to balance on one of her long, lean legs as she throws the other over the bike and scoots herself up onto the seat behind mine. I climb up after her and stick the key in the ignition.
“Ever been on a motorcycle before?” I ask.
“Uh, does a moped in Rome count?” Spencer lets out a nervous giggle. I cock my head, contemplating the similarities between a moped and the Harley beneath us. There aren’t many, save for the fact that they both have two wheels.
“Sure,” I lie. “Just be prepared for a few more horses underneath you.” I kick up the kickstand, pull out the clutch, add some throttle, and we’re off.“Hold on, tight,” I shout over my shoulder. I feel the muscles in her thighs flex, squeezing me tighter. Her hands wrap around my waist sending a thrill through my chest that I don’t think is from the roar of the bike this time.
Spencer lets out a shriek as I lean to one side to round the corner, and her fingers curl and grip my T-shirt. Goosebumps spread out from the concentrated spot where her fingertips graze my abdomen.
“You’re alright,” I reassure her, calling out over my shoulder. “Just lean with me next time.” I catch her nod in my side mirror. She closes her eyes and takes a calming breath, and the corner of my mouth quirks up at the thought of how nervous she is behind me. Spencer doesn’t seem like a woman who is ever nervous, and I wonder if it’s the bike or me causing that reaction.
We round the next bend, the quiet street belonging only to us as I weave around the gentle curve. Her weight shifts with mine and we take the corner much smoother this time.
“Atta girl. You’ve got it.” I can’t help but flick my eyes down to my side mirror again, just in time to catch a smile spread across Spencer’s face as she closes her eyes and lets the wind caress her skin. Her body is less tense, and I can tell that she gets it now, why I ride. That feeling of pure freedom.
The entrance to my driveway is a blur as we whizz by and continue along the road that leads past my house and to the provincial campground. I down shift as we approach, and the sudden drop in our speed makes Spencer’s hips buck against my back. I’m suddenly acutely aware of how long it’s been since I’ve had a woman so close to me. It’s not that I’m against dating, I’ve just had other priorities. The dating pool in a town like Heartwood is small, which means that, for the last few years, I’ve been in a strictly monogamous relationship with my right hand. I see no need to mess with a good thing.
My mind wanders for a moment, wondering how it would feel if she was straddling me like that from the front. But the fact that she’s Ally’s best friend makes her just a little off-limits. Not totally unacceptable, but unacceptable enough that I shouldn’t be entertaining thoughts like that. Just drop her off and go home. It’ll be better for everyone.
“This is me,” she says, pointing to a camper van parked on a gravel pad. It’s nestled in the trees, the woods around it pitch dark except for the twinkling glow of the fairy lights Spencer has strung up on the canvas awning. The effect it gives is homey and warm, like she’s made the best out of the fact that her house is on wheels.
I pull the bike into the campsite and come to a stop, neither of us making a move to get off just yet.
“I should let you off here,” I start. “I was always taught never to go near a stranger’s van.”
“Am I a stranger?” Spencer’s raspy voice hums in my ear. For all intents and purposes, Spencer is a stranger. This is only our second interaction, ever. I know nothing of significance about her, only that she doesn’t stay in one place for long, so it may be in my best interest to keep it that way. That was the primary reason I didn’t make a move on her when she stayed at my place. I knew that once I entertained the idea of Spencer, I’d fall hard and fast.
“Guess not anymore.” She starts to lift her leg over the back of the bike, and I put my hand out to stop her, letting it land on her outer thigh. “Let me help you down.” It takes everything in me not to let my hand linger there a little longer, but I climb off the bike and ensure that the kickstand is secure before extending my hand to her. She takes it and uses it to steady herself as she starts to lift one leg up and over the seat. The bike wobbles and a shriek escapes from her throat.
“It’s going to tip over, I’m going to get stuck underneath it,” she cries, her eyes pleading.
“I won’t let that happen,” I say, but I let go of her for a moment and move behind her, placing my hands on her hips and lifting her down in a swift motion. Spencer removes the helmet, her hair windblown, her cheeks pink from the breeze. She dusts off her ketchup-stained shirt as if any dirt is going to matter at this point.
“Thanks,” she says, her arm outstretched handing me back my jacket. “And thanks for the ride.”
“Sure,” I say, but I hesitate before turning back towards my bike to leave. Something in me doesn’t want this conversation to end. I want to stay in Spencer’s presence as long as I can. For every day over the last year I thought about having the chance just to talk to her again. “Are you sure you’re okay here, out in the woods all by yourself? You know, there are legends about these woods … some pretty spooky stuff.” I let my voice trail off, but I don’t stifle my playful grin. I’m not trying to terrify her.
“Don’t freak me out! I’m the one that has to sleep here tonight you know.” She bounces on her heels and shakes her hands as if she can shake off the thought of anything in the woods around her camper.
“Maybe I should check the perimeter for you, just in case. You never know what might be lurking out there,” I suggest. She can’t possibly think I’m serious about there being monsters or whatever she’s imagining out here. There are bears though, and cougars. Even I wouldn’t be able to fight one of them off.
“Oh, fuck off, Grady!” Spencer whimpers.
“Better safe than sorry, right?” I joke as I stride past her and walk the edge of the gravel campsite pad, making an exaggerated show of peering into the woods, hunting for an imaginary threat. I round the back of the campsite, and a sound I was not expecting catches my attention. It’s a scratching, scraping sound coming from behind the van.
“What the fuck is that?” Spencer says, suddenly right behind me, trying to peek out from around my shoulder.
“Jesus, don’t sneak up on me like that!” I just about jump out of my skin. Okay, so I may have freaked myself out a little bit, too. Now that I know there’s actually something over there, my shoulders tense.
“A little jumpy, are we?” She digs her index finger into my bicep. “You’re supposed to be protecting me from monsters, remember? Go see what it is.”
I nod. I can’t really argue with her. I guess that makes me the first victim of whatever it is that could be lurking around back there. The Rockies are littered with grizzlies, and I might be about to come face to face with one. I lift a finger to my lips, indicating to Spencer to be quiet, and I creep along the back hatch of the van, stopping short of the corner and craning my neck to see around to the other side.
What I find, rummaging through some stacked-up boxes where Spencer keeps her trash, is worse than I was expecting. I back away slowly and turn to face Spencer.
“I’m going to need you to be very quiet, stay very calm, and back away from the camper, okay?” I instruct her, my voice no louder than a whisper, and her large green eyes go wider than dinner plates. What is it? She mouths, taking a tentative step back.
My heart is thudding in my ears. This could go very, very wrong. The last time I encountered this … thing, it did. I position myself in between Spencer and the wild beast, which I can tell by the increasing volume of the scratching, is growing nearer.
It pokes its head out from around the back tire, and Spencer lets out a bark of laughter behind me.
“A skunk?!” she shouts and I whirl around, just about smacking a hand over her mouth. “That’s what you were so afraid of?!” She cackles again. “I’m so sorry, Grady, but I cannot take you seriously right now. A skunk.”
“Be quiet, you’re going to startle it!” I say, remembering the absolute horror of the smell that made my eyes water and clung to my skin for weeks. Jett, Hudson, and I had been playing in the yard and the skunk that decided to wander through did not take kindly to Jett chasing after it. The spray aimed right for Hudson and I and, wanting to spare my little brother, I shoved him out of the way, taking the brunt of the gruesome stench. Jett never did apologize. Asshole.
“Look at it, it’s cute. What’s it going to do? Spray you?” Spencer admires the filthy animal that I despise so much for what one of its relatives did to me. I don’t hold many grudges, except for Carter Bouchard, and skunks.
“Yes, that’s exactly what it’s going to do,” I say, matter-of-factly. “Some people have never been sprayed by a skunk, and it shows. Do you know how many tomato juice baths it takes to get the smell out?” Spencer blinks back at me, a cheeky grin still toying with her supple lips. “No? Because I do. Approximately six. Even then, the smell still lingers.”
Her grin widens.
“Well,” she says, “it’s a good thing we’re both covered in ketchup.”
“I don’t think—” I start. “It’s not like skunk repellent. Just be quiet until it leaves, okay?”
Spencer puts her hands up in defeat.
“Okay. But I don’t know how to defend myself from a skunk. Are they the kind of animal where you have to pretend to be one big predator to get them to leave?” Spencer takes a step towards me, and I squint one eye, considering what she’s suggested for a moment.
“Yeah, I think they are,” I say, matching the step she took, closing the distance between us.
“Put your arms around me,” she instructs, and I do. Spencer’s head reaches just under my chin. “We have to get close. So, it thinks we’re one person.” I clasp my hands around her back to bring her tighter to my chest, and she rests her cheek on my peck. I just hope she can’t feel the way my heart is hammering against my ribs.
“Like this?” I ask.
“Yes, exactly. Now we wait,” she says.
“Aren’t we supposed to pretend to be scary? Isn’t that how this works?” I ask.
“No, dummy. That’s how you get sprayed.”Nothing about Spencer’s tactic here makes logical sense, but it makes sense to me if it means I get to stand this close to her for a second longer.
We’re both quiet for a minute or two. The only sounds are the skunk, happily sniffing around in the dirt, our breathing, and my pulse pounding in my ears. Eventually, the skunk moseys off into the woods.
“Is it gone?” Spencer asks, remaining perfectly still against me.
“Let’s wait here until we know it’s far away,” I say, not wanting to pull away from her just yet. I give it another fifteen seconds or so, not long enough to be weird, and then I say, “I think we’re safe.”
Spencer glances around the campsite, confirming that the stinky pest is truly gone, and she leans back to peer up at me.
“You saved my life,” she says, somehow maintaining a completely neutral expression. “How can I ever repay you?”
Her hands are still around my waist, and I fear that the thoughts I’m having will soon make themselves known between us. A rogue erection is not how I want to make my declaration of my feelings for Spencer.
“I have a few ideas,” I say, knowing that if I give myself any more time to overthink this, I won’t let myself go near her again. I will slip into the ether of the friend zone as I have so many times before. Although I’m not one to regret the choices I’ve made, the one thing I can say with certainty is that I would regret not taking advantage of this second chance I’ve been given. The rational, responsible part of me didn’t make a move last time because I wanted to be respectful. I never wanted Spencer to feel uncomfortable staying in my house. We didn’t know each other then. But now … even she admitted we’re no longer strangers.
To my surprise, Spencer looks intrigued. One eyebrow quirks up as she perches up on her tip toes and twines her arms around the back of my neck, pulling my face down close to hers so our noses are almost touching.
“Then I would say great minds think alike, Landry.” Her teeth sink into her bottom lip before she cranes her neck up and grazes them against mine. Those lips. Those pillowy soft lips that I haven’t been able to stop staring at since the moment I caught her standing in the pantry cupboard looking like an absolute goofball. A really sexy goofball.
The first time she places them on my mouth it’s soft and tentative, until she nips at my lip and lets out a soft moan that sounds more like a hum. It sparks something within me, and my hand grips the back of her head, my fingers twining through the back of her hair, tugging so her head is pulled back, face angled up towards me giving me better access to her mouth. I kiss her the way I should have done months ago.
I kiss her, and I wonder if the version of me all those months ago was more responsible, and whether that was for the best.
Because now that I’m kissing her, I don’t want to stop.