Chapter 40
HARLOW
Jameson doesn’t want to be at the apartment when Spencer drops off Roe and I can’t say I blame him.
When the knock on the door comes, I save my work and close my computer.
There’s another, more impatient knock, that I know belongs to Monroe.
Shaking my head and trying not to laugh, I open the door.
“Hey, Monster,” I greet, bending down to hug my daughter. Her cast should be coming off in another week or two if all goes well—which is probably for the best, because it hasn’t slowed her down one bit and it’s covered in grime. The once vibrant pink is much more muted now.
“Hi, Mom.” She hugs me back. “I have to check on my friends,” she says, letting me go and heading toward her room and horde of stuffed animals. I once tried to weed out some of her less played with stuffies, but she caught on to me before I could drop them off for donation.
Standing, I make eye contact with Spencer and give him a smile, but I think it must be more of a grimace based on the curious look he gives me.
“Is everything okay?” he asks.
I shake my head, wrapping my arms around myself. “I told Jameson about the kiss.”
Spencer nods, a muscle in his jaw pulsing. He slides his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “And how did he take it?”
I swallow past the lump in my throat and turn away from Spencer, busying myself by picking up my snacks from the coffee table.
“He’s hurt.”
Spencer nods, eyes focused on my ceiling like it holds the answers to every question he’s ever had. “Understandable.”
I spin towards him, arms filled with wrappers and my collection of cups—one for lemon water, an iced coffee that I half drank, and a can of sparkling water.
“That can never happen again,” I hiss.
His eyes narrow. “Are you really going to try to act like that kiss meant nothing?”
“Yes,” I snap. I set the empty glass in the sink and empty out the iced coffee and small amount of remaining soda. Dumping the empty cup and can in the trash, I say to him, “It can’t mean anything.”
His nostrils flare—not in anger, I know him enough to know that isn’t his angry face. He’s hurt.
“You felt something and now you’re fucking scared.”
“I’m not scared,” I hiss quietly, not wanting to draw Monroe out here to catch us fighting.
“Yes. You. Are.” He makes sure to enunciate each word. “Why are you so afraid of what you feel for me? Why are you willing to break both of our hearts for the safe choice?”
I gape at him. “Jameson is not the safe choice.”
“Yes, he is,” Spencer bites out. “Because you’ll never love him as much as you love me. Lie as much as you want, but I know it’s true.”
“It’s not.” The words sound more like a plea than firm reproach.
He crowds me against the counter until I’m boxed in. He rests a hand on each side of me on top of the counter, so I have no means of escape—not that I feel any genuine fear to.
“Who are you really lying to? Yourself or me?”
“I’m not lying,” I declare, lifting my chin defiantly.
He stares down at me. There’s an intensity in his green eyes I don’t remember ever seeing before, like he could easily devour me.
“Then why are you looking at me like this?”
“Like what?” I bite out.
His eyes flick down to my lips and back up to make eye contact. “Like you want me to kiss you.” I open my mouth to retort, and anticipating that, he plows on. “I know your tells, Harlow. I told you that you can’t lie to me. I know you too well.”
“I don’t want you to kiss me again.”
“Sure.” He nods. “Whatever you say, but I know the truth.”
He backs away and I feel like I can finally take a breath, but it’s for naught, because all I do is inhale his scent.
He heads down the hall to say goodbye to Monroe. When he comes out of her room, he finds that I haven’t moved an inch.
He looks me over and I see a million things behind that look. Hurt and want mixed with pain and desire.
“Goodnight, Low,” he says softly, and lets himself out.
When the door shuts behind him, I finally seem to snap out of whatever spell I’m under.
“What the fuck is wrong with me?” I mutter, turning and clutching the edge of the sink for dear life.
I need to get a grip on myself before my entire life implodes and leaves me obliterated.