Chapter Eighteen
An annoying buzz pulled Spencer out of a deep slumber.
He and Misty had passed out for real. Despite the size of his bed, they’d slept close to each other.
He savored the warmth of her body and the feel of her hair under his fingers.
All he wanted was to press his morning wood into her, but this racket was killing the mood.
His brain woke up enough to identify the noise as a vibrating phone. He reached for his out of instinct, but frowned at the blank screen without so much as a text notification. “What the fuck?”
“It’s mine.” Misty crawled out of bed and let out a loud “Fuck!” before answering it.
The sound woke Spencer up enough to take a second look at his phone and register the time, not to mention the light pouring in under the blinds.
Working outside the nine-to-five grind had gotten him used to getting up early, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been healthy and slept so late.
“Hey...I know, I’ll be right there... I know... What do you want me to do now, talk and be late, or get ready to go and be on time?... Yeah... Look, let’s forget breakfast and meet at the airport. It’s the only way.”
She’d looked relatively composed while on the phone but scrunched up her face as she hung up.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck! I was going to pack first thing in the morning, get everything I needed for today into the suitcase along with everything else, but I’m supposed to be at the airport by now and can’t even get dressed! ”
“Hey, hey.” Spencer got out of bed, putting on his sweats as he headed toward her. “I can help, but we’ve got to get going.”
He tossed her a shirt and a pair of track pants, feeling relieved for their similarities in size. “That should hold you until we get to your place.”
She dressed quickly, grabbed her phone, and followed him the few blocks to her place. In the lobby, she poked endlessly at the elevator button. “Come on!”
That was exactly how Spencer had felt on his first trip up in her elevator, but a different kind of anticipation was in play today.
After a painfully slow ride, they got off to see that no one else was home, sparing them the awkwardness of a conversation they didn’t have time for now.
A suitcase sat open and half-packed on her bed. “How can I help?” he asked.
“Go into the bathroom and get everything off the left half of the shelf.” She spoke as she dug through the chest of drawers, filling her suitcase with workout clothes and sweaters.
He surveyed the shelves, marveling anew at how many items women used every day. “Do you have a toiletry bag or anything?”
“Here.” Now dressed in her own clothes, she handed him a patterned pouch. He threw the shirt on over his own and pulled the pants on top before filling the bag with her toothbrush, toothpaste, skincare products, and makeup.
“And where are you leaving from?” he asked, poking the stubborn toothbrush into the package to zip it shut.
“Kennedy. Why?” she asked, accepting the toiletry bag.
He opened an app, then looked up. “I just got you an Uber. He’s about two minutes away.”
Instead of looking relieved to be on time, Misty only looked more panicked as she leaned on her suitcase to close it. “Could there be any more pressure for this?”
Spencer felt his back go up. “There didn’t have to be. Why’d you leave this all for the last minute?”
“I didn’t plan on it! I thought I’d do it last night or get up early and do it before I left, but you saw how that turned out.” She leaned on one side of the suitcase and fumbled for the zipper on the other.
“Why didn’t you say? I would’ve understood and come over to help.”
Before she could answer, his phone went off with an alert. “Tell me later. A black Civic’s downstairs.”
He found the other half of the zipper to close the suitcase, then picked up the handle and wheeled it to the elevator. Misty followed him with a tote bag that might be too big to carry on and a chagrined expression. “I didn’t mean to bite your head off in there. I just—”
“Doesn’t matter now. Let’s just get you to the airport.
” The words came out through clenched teeth.
Spencer knew he was strong, but Misty’s suitcase was proving to be a challenge.
Had he misread the message, and she’d actually be at a three-and-a-half-month combine instead of a three-and-a-half-week one?
It was the only thing he could think of that made sense for all this, and it was a relief to get to set it down in the elevator.
They didn’t talk, just watched the floors tick down like a pair of anxious strangers.
True to the app’s word, a black Civic was waiting in front of the building. The driver popped the trunk at the sight of the luggage, and Spencer hefted the suitcase inside. Misty added her own bag before turning to him. Her blue-gray eyes looked huge. “I—”
He touched her shoulder. “Go. I’d hate to see you do all that work and not make the team because you got there late. Text me when you get there.”
She threw her arms around him in a hug so quick he barely had the chance to respond before getting in the car.
Spencer stood on the sidewalk watching it even after he couldn’t see it anymore.
He felt kicked in the gut and at loose ends.
The sensation wasn’t unlike blue balls, but that was ridiculous considering all the sex he’d had yesterday alone.
Besides, as nice as a morning fuck would’ve been, that wasn’t what he wanted the most. He wished he could have hugged her for real, kissed her goodbye...Was emotional blue balls a thing? It sounded silly, but it was also the closest he could come up with to describe how he felt.
And yet, it was silly to feel that way. They’d gone from trainer and client to sleeping together in the span of an afternoon, and hadn’t discussed taking things beyond sex.
There hadn’t been much discussion lately, come to think of it.
Just displays of affection that they hadn’t even been able to think about when he was training and getting to know her.
His phone buzzed with a text.
Lawrence: I’m here. Where are you?
Spencer’s heart lurched into his throat yet again. He’d forgotten all about this session in the rush to get Misty to the station on time.
Spencer: On my way. Be there soon.
It wasn’t totally inaccurate. The one upside to this was that Misty didn’t live totally out of the way, and he wasn’t too late to his client’s appointment.
“Where’s Lawrence?” he asked the receptionist when he arrived at the gym.
“Warming up on the treadmill. But are you sure you’re okay to be back?”
“Fine. Why?” The answer came automatically.
“You called out sick yesterday and don’t look so good now.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“I mean it. You know the policy.”
“I do, but I’m ready to work now.” If trainers weren’t feeling well, the gym’s management allowed sick days with no questions asked.
In place since a norovirus outbreak in the eighties, the rule kept germs at bay, kept employees happy, let clients come back with confidence after lockdown, and gave Spencer the out he’d needed yesterday.
The receptionist squinted at him. “Maybe change first. What the hell are you wearing?”
“Never mind.” Spencer had all but forgotten about how he’d chosen to carry the extra clothes and could only imagine how he looked. He rushed to the locker room to take off his upper layers, then headed to the training floor.
****
Misty: Did they announce the gate yet?
Tish: A14. Should be boarding soon.
Misty’s already tense back tightened even further at the sight. On the one hand, at least she knew exactly where she was going once she got there. But on the other, it didn’t bode well that they were already getting ready to board.
The one upside to this was that midday on a weekday didn’t seem like the most popular time to go on a plane trip.
The Uber pulled right up to the drop-off area, and Misty bolted out of the car.
The driver had popped the trunk so she could get her luggage out, and she rolled it inside with her right hand, balancing her carry-on on her left shoulder.
She felt like a pack mule, but it wasn’t for much longer as she checked her suitcase.
At least a little less encumbered, Misty rushed through the terminal, wishing for time to pick up some magazines for the flight, or at least get breakfast. Instead, her eyes kept darting to the clocks throughout the airport.
They were all ticking, and there was a BOARDING notification by her flight.
As soon as she got through a mercifully short security line, she started to breathe easier. She sent Tish a text as she ran down the moving sidewalk.
Misty: On my way.
Tish: Thank God.
Misty made her way forward just as the signs flashed to LAST CALL. She showed her e-ticket to the official, and they let her on. Her breathing finally evened out as she stepped forward, and they closed the door behind her.
On the small plane, she found her friend in the window seat and a middle-aged woman with an “I’d like to talk to the manager” haircut sitting next to her. “I don’t think you understand. I can’t leave two children under four unsupervised.”
“And no one is asking you to,” Tish said more calmly than Misty would have. “But there’s someone else coming who should be here any minute, and she has a ticket for this seat.”
“And since this person hasn’t shown up yet, and may not, I don’t see why you can’t clear out this row and let the three of us sit together.”
“Excuse me,” Misty said, edging closer with her luggage.
Tish looked up. “Here she is!”
The older woman shuffled aside, but didn’t look assuaged. “You still don’t need all these seats,” she huffed as Misty put her tote in the overhead rack.