Chapter 26
chapter twenty-six
Something warm and heavy shifted against Spencer’s legs. A second later, the smell hit, thick and rancid, creeping into her barely conscious brain like an uninvited guest.
The air was not great.
Her first thought: God, Dax. What the hell did you eat?
Her second thought: Wait.
Then came the sound.
A soft, airy pfft.
Spencer froze.
Slowly, she cracked one eye open, just enough to assess the damage.
Dax was still face-down in his pillow, snoring like a dying lawnmower, mouth open, drool pooling. It was a disgusting sight, but not the source of this nightmare.
Which meant…
Her gaze dropped to the real culprit.
Gruit.
He was sitting at the foot of the bed, looking deeply satisfied with himself.
Spencer inhaled sharply, then regretted it immediately.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
The dog rolled over and sniffed at Spencer like he was considering whether she was worth his time, then promptly flopped across her legs like a bag of wet sand. One oversized paw pressed into her arm like an official declaration of ownership.
Spencer sighed, scratching behind his ears.
Christine, standing in the doorway, smirked. “He’s very entitled. No idea where he gets it from.”
“Yeah, shocking,” Spencer deadpanned, slumping back into the headboard, pretending she wasn’t still recovering from a literal biological attack.
Christine raised an eyebrow, giving Spencer a once-over. “You okay? No offense, but it reeks in here.”
Spencer lifted her leg semi-gracefully before letting out a dramatic sigh. “Oh, please. Like that smell could ever come from my delicate, ethereal body.”
Christine snorted. “Uh-huh. I am your sister. I’ve survived road trips with you. I know exactly what you’re capable of.”
“You smell that?” She took another dramatic sniff of air, eyes narrowing. “That’s your fur child, ensuring you never know fresh air again.”
Christine waved a hand in front of her nose. “Debatable.”
“Sooo,” Spencer mused, stretching out the word like a cat batting at something dangerous. “Did I overhear some shenanigans last night?”
Christine’s face was heated, but she played it cool. “What?”
Spencer gave her a flat look. “Christine. Please. These walls don’t even go all the way to the ceiling.”
Christine cleared her throat, suddenly aware of the loft’s horrible open-concept design. “Well, it’s not like we?—”
Spencer cut her off with a dead-on impression, clutching her chest dramatically. “Ohh, Oakland, I’m almost there! I’m going to co?—”
Christine’s face went beet red as she screamed and hurled a pillow straight at Spencer’s head. “Shut up! Shut up! You’re such a perv for even listening.”
Spencer cackled, swatting the pillow away. “Oh sure, I’m the perv here.”
“I swear to God, if you don’t stop, I will smother you in your sleep.”
Spencer held up her hands in mock surrender, grinning like she’d won anyway. “Fine, fine. But let’s be clear. I’m the real victim here.”
Christine huffed, crossing her arms. “It’s not like we really did anything. I basically just got myself off.”
Spencer immediately shoved her fingers in her ears. “Nope! I do not need the details, thank you!”
“Oh, now you have boundaries?”
Spencer laughed, the sound coming out a little too forced because a tinge of guilt now sat heavy in her stomach, low, nauseating, and persistent.
She couldn’t stop thinking about the interaction between Silver and Oakland the other night, and she felt shitty about Christine not knowing about the kiss.
It wasn’t her secret to tell, was it? Maybe it was.
As she opened her mouth to confess, Silver stormed into the bedroom, looking wildly exasperated.
“Guys, I need help,” she announced, hands on her hips. “That chick I brought home last night will not leave.”
Christine and Spencer exchanged an amused glance.
“She’s just laying in my bed watching TV,” Silver continued, waving toward her bedroom. “And she brought something—like, some kind of… um, gadget.”
Christine blinked. “Define gadget.”
“I can’t! I barely looked at it, but it’s there, and now I don’t know what to do with that information.”
Christine smirked. “I mean, ideally? You let her use it on you.”
Silver groaned. “Chris, I don’t even know this girl! I’m not kink-shaming, but this is a lot of enthusiasm for a first-time sleepover. And she just had it… with her. Who does that?”
Christine shrugged. “Maybe she’s just efficient.”
Silver shot her a glare. “That is not helping.”
“Tell her you have to go to work,” Spencer suggested, swiping through her phone.
“She knows where I work,” Silver groaned. “She’ll know it’s bullshit.”
“Isn’t she like… twenty?”
Silver narrowed her eyes. “Maybe?”
“Oh, my god, Silv.” Christine chuckled. “You should tell her you’re late for your geriatric exercise class.”
Silver kicked at her shin. “I hate you.”
Spencer grinned. “Or tell her you’re late for birdwatching club.”
Christine gasped. “Oh! Oh! Early bird special at the movies. That’s convincing.”
Silver threw herself onto the bed with them, groaning. “You’re both so unhelpful.”
Christine smirked. “What was her name again?”
Silver stared at the ceiling. “…Uh. Chloe, I think?”
“Zoe,” Spencer said flatly.
Christine raised an eyebrow, and Spencer could feel her tone must’ve landed wrong. There was something in her sister’s face—confusion, maybe?
Silver, oblivious, just snapped her fingers. “Right. Zoe.”
Spencer’s grip on the remote tightened. “Try not to be an asshole, Silver. She’s a person, not a problem.”
“I know that.” She stood up and wandered back toward her room, muttering, “This is why I usually go to their place.”
Christine pounced when she disappeared, lunging for Spencer and wrapping her in a suffocating bear hug.
“You’re such a good person,” she cooed dramatically. “Never change.”
Spencer barely heard her.
Because she wasn’t a good person, she should have told Christine last night when she heard what happened between Oakland and Silver.
She should have said something before anything physical happened between Christine and Oakland.
Christine hesitated, then asked, “You seemed kinda pissed at Silver. Everything okay?”
Spencer could feel Christine’s eyes on her, waiting.
She needed to say something.
The words were clawing up her throat, frantic, desperate to get out, but every way she tried to arrange them felt wrong. It felt like a trap she was setting for herself.
She swallowed hard, gripping the cuff of her hoodie. “Okay, so, something happened…”
Christine’s eyebrows lifted slightly, skeptical but patient. “Yeah?”
Spencer rolled her shoulders back like that would shake off the crawling unease under her skin. “And it was… weird.”
Christine’s head tilted. “Weird, how?”
Spencer opened her mouth and closed it. Her stomach turned.
She rubbed the back of her neck, forcing herself to look at Christine, trying to keep her voice steady. “Silver and?—”
Christine immediately held up a hand. “Nope.”
Spencer blinked. “What?”
Christine shook her head, pushing herself up from the bed like she needed distance from whatever Spencer was about to say. “I do not want to hear that sentence.”
Spencer hesitated a beat too long.
“Oh my god,” Christine breathed. “You hooked up with Silver.”
Spencer recoiled so hard she nearly fell off the bed.
“What?!” She gagged on instinct, running both hands down her face. “Are you fucking insane?”
“I don’t know, Spence! You just said?—”
“Oh my god, shut up.” Spencer squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head violently. “That is the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard. I think I need to die now.”
Christine looked vaguely ill. “Well, clarify faster next time.”
Spencer groaned, flopping back onto the couch, feeling physically unclean just from the implication.
Gruit, clearly unsettled by the sudden spike in volume, popped his head up but wisely decided against getting involved.
Christine rubbed her temples like she was trying to manually delete the last minute from her brain. “Okay. So what the hell are you talking about?”
Before she could, Silver appeared again, arms flailing.
“Guys. She won’t leave. I told her I was going to the gym, and she literally said, ‘I’ll be here when you get back.’”
Christine rolled her eyes. “Alright. I’m handling this.”
“No—shhh!” Silver hissed.
Christine cupped her hands around her mouth. “Zoe!”
“No! Chris!”
Christine dodged Silver’s grab and yelled louder. “Zoooooeeeee!”
A voice called back, “Yeah?”
Silver looked like she wanted to die.
Zoe appeared, looking adorably rumpled, her short hair messy, a pleased little glow still on her face.
Christine smiled. “We’re all heading out, so you need to leave.” Then, because she wasn’t completely heartless, she added, “But Silver will be at the bar tonight!”
Zoe’s face lit up. “Really? I’ll come by!” She shot Silver a dorky wink.
Silver, murderous, waited until Zoe disappeared to glare at Christine. “Why would you say that? Now she’s gonna sit at the bar and stare at me all night.”
Christine patted her shoulder. “Good for business.”
“I hate you.”
Christine grinned. “I know.”
Silver stormed out to see the girl off, leaving Christine and Spencer alone again.
Christine turned, fixing Spencer with a look. “Okay. You were saying?”
Spencer’s easy posture was long gone. She sat stiffly, hands clenched into fists against her thighs, eyes still locked on the space where Silver had stood.
Her pulse was pounding, half from the sheer horror of Christine’s earlier accusation and half from the absolute nerve of it.
She blinked, still struggling to process. “How could you even think I would hook up with Silver?”
“I don’t know, Spence. The way you two flirt all the time?” Christine arched a brow. “You’re always kind of… um, watching her.”
Spencer’s stomach lurched.
Her face contorted, pure horror and disgust flashing across her features.
“Oh my God, Chris.” She shuddered. “That’s fucking vile. Take it back.”
Silver’s voice rang out from the kitchen—sharp, cold, wounded, though she’d probably die before admitting it.
“Oh wow,” she called out, the sarcasm so thick it could cut through steel. “That’s nice, Spence.”
Silver reappeared in the doorway, coffee cup in hand, but her usual cocky ease was gone. Instead, her jaw was tight, her eyes flashing with something sharp and unyielding.
“You know,” Silver continued, tone deceptively light, “that actually cuts kind of deep. Vile? Didn’t know I ranked that low on your list.”
Spencer laughed, sharp and humorless, standing abruptly. “Oh, please. Don’t act like you care what I think.”
Silver’s lips parted slightly like she was about to fire back, but something about how Spencer said it stopped her.
Christine stood up, her gaze bouncing between them, hands on her hips. “Okay, what the hell is happening right now?”
Spencer ignored her, too angry to stop now, too caught up in the sudden burn under her skin.
She turned to Silver.
“You are literally the most self-serving person I have ever met,” Spencer seethed, stepping closer. “You screw around, you use people, and you think it’s funny—and somehow, you still expect the world to like you for it.”
Silver’s jaw tensed, but she just tilted her head, studying her like she was waiting for Spencer to figure something out on her own.
“I think you’re pissed about something else,” Silver finally said, voice low and steady.
Spencer’s stomach flipped, anger surging through her veins.
“Stop it,” she snapped. “Stop playing stupid.”
Silver didn’t flinch, didn’t blink, didn’t so much as shift. She just stood there, expression caught between disbelief and exasperation, like her brain short-circuited mid-thought.
And that, more than anything, made Spencer’s blood boil.
Because Silver knew exactly what this was about.
Christine stepped forward, looking between them like she was trying to piece something together. “Spence,” she said slowly, carefully. “What is this?”
Spencer clenched her jaw, her nails digging into her palms.
She backed herself into a corner.
And now, there was only one way out.
Her eyes flickered to Silver’s for a half-second, and that was all it took.
Silver’s lips quirked, just a little. Not a smirk. Not quite.
More like an acknowledgment.
A silent, you’re really gonna do this, huh?
Spencer swallowed hard, then turned to Christine.
“It’s about Oakland.”
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