Chapter 8
HARLOW
Ipark my car in the paver driveway of the beautiful Spanish style beach home. It has an updated modern flair from the renovation Spencer did on it three years ago.
I close my eyes, remembering the day he bought this house and wanted to show me. It was shortly after we started sleeping together again and he pulled his fancy SUV into the driveway. Monroe was sleeping peacefully in the backseat.
“What do you think?” Spencer turned, his hand still braced on the steering wheel as he looked at me.
“What do you mean what do I think?” My tone was skeptical.
“Of the house.”
“It…” I paused, studying it. It was a beautiful home, a little run down and in need of some TLC, but I could see the potential. “It looks like what you’ve always wanted.”
Spencer always talked over the years about buying a home in Malibu. How he wanted to be able to walk out his backdoor, grab his surfboard, and hit the water.
He undid his seatbelt and climbed out. Standing in front of the car he motioned for me to get out as well.
“Come on,” he mouthed before plucking Monroe from her car seat and into his arms. She woke momentarily before pressing her face against his neck and falling back asleep.
Climbing from the SUV, I followed him to the front door where he pulled a key from his pocket. The wooden door swung open with a creak, revealing a vaulted ceiling entryway and grand staircase with beautiful old tile floors.
“You bought it already?” I asked, nodding at the key grasped in his hand.
He bit his lip nervously. “Um, yeah.” He rubbed the back of his head with his hand that wasn’t supporting Roe. “I did.”
“That’s great. You’ll love it here.” My smile was genuine. This was exactly the kind of place I saw Spencer living. Sure, a tad bigger, but it was earthy and homier than some of the cold mansions dotting the surrounding area.
“Will you love it here?”
“Me?” I blurted. “Why would that matter?”
He tilted his head, looking at me in question. “I bought it for us.”
“Us?” I repeated, looking at him disbelief. “What do you mean?”
“You, me, and Roe. Isn’t it perfect?” He looked around with a grin. “It’ll be great as she grows up and we have more kids and—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I slashed my hands through the air. “Spencer…” I paused, trying to figure out a way to deliver the blow nicely but coming up empty. “We’re not together.”
He looked at me like I was the crazy one. “Low, we’ve been back together for months now.”
I took a step away from him, closer to the door. Wrapping my arms around myself I shook my head. “No, Spencer we haven’t. At least not to me we haven’t.”
“I’ve been staying over at your place a lot,” he reasoned, counting it off on his finger, “we’ve been hanging out, doing things as a family, the sex—”
“Spencer,” my voice cracked, “that’s all it’s been to me. Sex. And the family stuff, that’s been for Roe. She deserves to have some kind of normalcy with her mom and dad.”
“But…” He put his hands on his hips, biting his bottom lip. “You don’t see us as a couple?” The pain in his eyes is nearly too much for me to bear. I’ve never wanted to hurt him.
I shook my head sadly. “No, Spencer. I don’t. I thought you knew that. I thought we talked about this—”
“We did.” He looked away, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Slowly, his blue eyes met mine, the deep color swimming with tears he refused to let fall. “I was the fool who hoped it’d mean to you, what it did to me.”
I closed my eyes, one lone tear leaking from the corner of my right eye. “I’m sorry.” And I was, so fucking sorry.
I broke his heart once. I didn’t mean to do it again.
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat, looking at the house with new, saddened eyes. Like he was seeing it in a whole different way now. “Me too.”
Shaking my head free of the memories, I grab my purse from the passenger seat. Climbing from the car, I shrug the purse onto my shoulder and stroll up to the front door. Beautiful lush green ivy surrounds it. Reaching out, I press the button for the doorbell.
I barely need to wait until it’s swinging open and Spencer stands in front of me in a pair of low-cut gym shorts that expose the V leading down to his…
Don’t go there, Harlow.
Sometimes it’s hard. We were together for years, had a child together, and even though he’s not, sometimes he still feels like he’s mine.
“Mornin’.” He tilts a bottle of water up to his lips, draining it. His hair and chest are damp with sweat. “Just finished my workout.”
“Morning,” I echo stepping inside. “Please tell me you have coffee.”
“Help yourself.” He motions for me to follow him into the kitchen. Despite his help yourself comment, he grabs two mugs and pours the coffee himself, sliding one to me. Scratching his washboard abs, he lifts the cup to his lips. “You know, I’m kind of surprised you’re here.”
“You’re the one that suckered me into this,” I remind him. I take a sip of the hot coffee and close my eyes. “Oh my god, this coffee is amazing.”
“Best coffee maker on the planet.” He points to the shiny stainless contraption. “Worth every penny.”
“Rub it in,” I joke, but he frowns.
“I can get you one.” He brightens a bit.
I shake my head. “I don’t need one. Remember where I work? Free coffee all day, every day.”
He chuckles and looks away. “Right.”
I know there’s a huge disparity between our incomes, it’s impossible for there not to be. I also know it bothers him way more than it ever has me. I’m happy with my simple life. I’m the kind of person who believes in working for what they have, and I’ve never liked handouts.
Wrapping my fingers around the mug, I tilt my head and watch him as he leans his hip against the shiny marble counters and looks out the floor to ceiling windows that lead to his backyard, the pool shimmering in the sunlight, and the ocean beyond that.
“So why am I here?” I voice and he shakes himself free of whatever thoughts or memories held him captive.
“I told you. I want us to be friends again.”
“And that entails having coffee and sitting in your kitchen?”
A tiny grin appears on his lips. “Not exactly. Hold on.” He holds up a finger and walks away. I hear a door open and close and then he returns with a long black garment with aqua colored piping.
“A wetsuit? What do I need a wetsuit for?”
“We’re going surfing.”
I eye him suspiciously, reaching out to touch the neoprene. “I haven’t been on a board in years. This is going to be a disaster.”
His grin lights up his face, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes that wasn’t there before. “It’s as easy as riding a bike. You don’t forget. Besides, I’ll take care of you.”
I blow out a breath. Logically, I should say no, grab my bag, and leave.
I’m bound to hurt myself, but for some reason I don’t want to.
In fact, I feel excited. Maybe I need this as much as Spencer does.
Our relationship has been strained for too long, and no matter what, we’re always going to be in each other’s lives.
“Fine.” I take the wetsuit from him. “If I get even one scratch…”
He grins, his dimples popping out and dammit if some small part of me doesn’t swoon at the sight of it.
“You won’t regret this.”
Pushing my wet hair out of my eyes, I smile at Spencer on my right as we bob up and down on our shortboards. “Wow, I forgot how much I loved this.”
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” He squints against the sunlight.
“How often are you out here?”
His nose crinkles. “Every morning just about. I’m always in a better mood when I start the day out here. It calms me. Some people do yoga or smoke a joint. This is what I do.”
“How are things for you?” I venture to ask. “With work and stuff?”
He glides his fingertips through the gray-blue water. “I have a big audition coming up.”
My heart drops. “How big?”
He hesitantly meets my eyes. “It’s expected to be the next big blockbuster, rival the Marvel Universe, but it’s just an audition, Low. It’s not a guarantee.”
“You’re talented. You’ll get it.”
Despite the fact that Spencer wasn’t a theatre kid, or brought up in an acting household, or with any inclination to go down that path, it truly comes natural to him.
“I’m not so sure.” He gives a shrug, now tracing his finger over the swirled design on his board. “But we’ll see.” Sitting up straighter, he points. “Another one’s coming. Get ready.”
“You take this one, it looks like a big one.”
He shakes his head adamantly. “You better start paddling.”
Continuing to argue will only waste time.
Laying on my stomach, I paddle out, my veins thrumming with a rush of excitement as the wave gathers.
I wobble a bit as I stand, but instinct kicks in and I find my balance.
It’s the biggest swell of the day, and I ride it with ease, surprising myself.
In the back of my mind, I know Spencer is cheering me on, but my only focus is riding the wave as long as I can.
Surfing has always been a big thing for Spencer, skateboarding too, but especially surfing.
Because of that, I became well acquainted with it too and got decent at it.
I figured after years of being absent on a board, today would be one major fail, but he’s right, it’s just like riding a bike.
You don’t forget. Your body knows what to do. It becomes intuitive.
When I make it back to where Spencer sits on his board, bobbing in the water, he says, “Let me catch one last wave and we’ll have lunch.”
I hesitate. I don’t have anywhere to go today or anything to do until it’s time to pick up Monroe, but… “I should go.”
“Stay,” he pleads, eyes earnest. There’s a loneliness I spy there behind his gaze that makes me feel guilty. “It’s only lunch.”
I don’t know why my gut tells me this is a bad idea, that hanging out with Spencer is bound to land me in trouble, if not today, then at some point.
But I answer with, “Okay,” anyway.