Chapter 1 #2
Spencer had gotten home a little after three, but even by then, Noah and Chase still hadn’t returned.
Noah had probably slept over at Eli’s, and Chase was on night four in a row at Killian’s.
The house had been too quiet without them, so Spencer had thrown off his shirt and jeans, turned on a very loud and violent action movie, and passed out to the sounds of aggressive alphas punching each other.
Not a bad night of sleep overall, actually, cramp or no cramp.
Spencer sat up and pressed his hands to his lower back, arching forward to try to relieve the aching soreness. Then he stumbled into the bathroom, where he brushed his teeth and splashed water on his face.
It was time for a protein smoothie, and then he’d hit the campus gym.
Maybe a good sweat would get his lower back straightened out.
He hated spending the extra money for a summer pass, but it was too fucking hot in the summer months to exercise outdoors, and Spencer needed a physical outlet or he’d go nuts.
The school year was starting next week anyway, and then his membership would be covered by his scholarship again.
Maybe Chase’s old teammate Carter would be there—he and Spencer tended to keep similar workout hours, and the surprisingly chill alpha was always down to spot Spencer on weights.
Spencer had just blended his smoothie and was about to pour it out into three glasses—he’d fucked up and thrown the ingredients in on autopilot and made enough for Noah and Chase too—when the doorbell rang.
He yelled out, “Coming!” and hustled to the front door. He’d feel kind of ridiculous if it was just someone leaving a package and bouncing, but whatever. He wasn’t going to apologize for answering the door in his underwear when it was before noon and he’d been up the whole night.
It wasn’t a delivery man after all. Ash and Ryder were at his door.
Spencer beamed at them, his heart doing that weird kick-thump again. “Damn! Two days in a row. We’re, like, totally besties now. Come in.”
He didn’t wait for them to answer, just left the door open to the sweltering August heat and headed back to the kitchen. If he didn’t eat right away in the morning, he turned into a pissy fucking beast.
“Noah’s not here yet,” he told them as he poured out three glasses. His back was still aching, so he tried stretching it again, groaning loudly at the twinge. “But if you want to wait for him, I made extra smoothie.”
His offer was met with silence. Had they even followed him inside? But they must have, because the whole house already smelled like damp earth and wet leaves, Ryder’s pheromones easily overpowering Spencer’s spiced-tea scent.
Spencer turned. Ash and Ryder were both standing in the doorway of the kitchen, but Ash was looking … weird. Kind of flushed, actually, and his mouth was hanging open. He was staring at something on Spencer’s chest.
Spencer looked down. Had he spilled toothpaste or something?
But there was nothing. Well, yeah, he’d gotten his nipples pierced this summer, but Ash had already seen those at one of Eli’s pool parties.
And maybe there was a little hole in Spencer’s boxer briefs, but he wasn’t flashing schlong or anything.
“You good, Ash?” Spencer asked.
Ryder cleared his throat pointedly. “Yeah, Ash. You good?”
Ash immediately closed his mouth, sending a glare Ryder’s way.
Oh, damn. Trouble in paradise? Maybe Ash was a beast when he was hungry too. Spencer picked up one of the glasses and handed it to him. “I used extra vanilla protein powder. Nice and creamy. Goes down smooth.”
Ash didn’t take the glass, and Spencer was startled by a low, raspy chuckle.
Holy shit, had Ryder just laughed? Even with all their time hanging this summer, Spencer had never heard it. Ash had claimed it happened, but Spencer had started considering it some kind of urban legend. Like, there were gators in the sewer. That dude with the hook. And Ryder’s laugh.
But Ash was still all flushed and weird, and Ryder wasn’t saying anything.
Spencer frowned at them. “Am I missing something?”
Ryder cocked a dark brow. “Why, is that unusual for you?”
Before he could stop himself, Spencer slammed the rejected smoothie back onto the counter. “Hey, I’m on an academic scholarship, dick. I’m not stupid.”
Now both of Ryder’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. “Did I say you were?”
No, he really hadn’t. Ash and Ryder were both snarky by nature—even if Ryder’s snark was usually a little more hidden—and Spencer was getting defensive for no real reason.
That was on him. “Oh. Right. Sorry.” He swept a hand through his hair, hoping the new, bitter edge to his scent was less obvious than he thought. “I get cranky when I’m hungry.”
Ash and Ryder exchanged a wordless glance. The telepathy wasn’t quite as sick this morning as it had been the night before. Well, it was still cool, but something was off, and it was making Spencer more jittery than usual. Or maybe that was the low blood sugar.
It was just … Spencer was an open book, and it always threw him when other people acted cagey and mysterious.
It had gotten him into hot water too many times, taking someone at face value and then learning they had hopes and expectations he’d just been supposed to, like, magically guess for no reason.
He didn’t usually have that problem with these two, but maybe everyone had woken up on the wrong side of the bed. Or couch, as it were.
Eventually Ryder broke his freaky Ash telepathy link and sighed. “We’ve gotta go,” he said brusquely, already turning away, one hand on Ash’s shoulder. “Tell Noah that Ash is looking for him.”
“Oh. Yeah. Will do.” Spencer didn’t bother reminding them that texting was a thing. Ash’s phone was always dead or dying.
Spencer followed them out to the front door. The tips of Ash’s ears were red, but he didn’t turn around again, so Spencer couldn’t see his expression. Maybe he was coming down with something.
It was Ryder who gave Spencer a sardonic little wave at the door, and Spencer couldn’t stop himself from waving back like a dope.
It was a shame Ryder was wearing jeans in the August heat. Not just because he must have been dying a little inside, but because the denim was hiding his thigh tats from the world.
Spencer’s brain had damn near short-circuited when he’d seen Ryder in swim shorts for the first time at the start of summer.
Because people called Spencer slutty (and maybe there was something to the accusation), but Spencer had never in his life seen anything sluttier than a shirtless Ryder in swim shorts, his thick, tattoo-covered thighs on full display.
Spencer shut the door behind them with a frown. He supposed even if Ryder had been flashing leg, it wouldn’t have mattered. They’d left within two seconds. And now that he thought of it, Ash—mouthy-ass Ash—hadn’t said a single word the whole time.
What a weird fucking start to the day.