“I’ll go get it,” I tell her and run into the house, grabbing the bottle from the counter where she left it. I take a quick swig of it, relishing in the burn again, then make my way back to her.
When I reach her side again, I hear music, and I can’t help but laugh when I recognize the Taylor Swift song coming from her phone.
“What, you don’t like her?” She asks incredulously.
“I didn’t say that. I don’t mind her music at all. I just didn’t expect to hear it, that's all.”
She holds her mug out to me, and I pour her what I think is about a shot into it. She tosses it back right away and holds her mug out again. I raise an eyebrow at her, and before I pour her next shot, I drink a mouthful straight from the bottle. Then I pour her another shot, and screw the cap back on, setting the bottle in the snow between us.
Phoebe takes her ear muffs off and tosses them into the bin of supplies and shakes her hair out. I think my new favorite smell might be campfires and mangoes. I itch to move closer to her, to inhale the heady scent of her. I watch as she tosses her shot back, and can’t help but love the way she scrunches her face up before swallowing.
“Alright,” she says after a full body shudder. “I need to know why, Spencer.”
Here we go.
“Why what, Phoebe?” I know I’m being dense, but I need to hear her say what’s on her mind before I spill anything.
She rolls her eyes at me, which only makes me smirk at her, and that irritates her even further.
“I just…I don’t understand what I’m missing,” she says in a rush. I furrow my brows in confusion. “Urg, you’re going to make me say it. And I’m going to feel even stupider than I feel right now.”
“You’re not stupid, Phoebe. I just want to know what’s going on in that mind of yours. I don’t want to misinterpret anything.”
“Ha. Like I misinterpreted that ‘almost kiss’ last night,” she shrugs and runs her hands through her hair in frustration.
“You didn’t though...misinterpret that, I mean.”
“Then why did you pull away?” My eyes meet hers, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen this expression on her face. The absolute anguish and uncertainty in her eyes. “Am I reading this wrong again? I thought…I thought maybe there was something here,” she waves her hand between us. “I mean, I don’t think it’s a surprise to you that I still have feelings for you. Even after all these years, I can’t seem to turn them off. And believe me, Spencer, I really wish I could. So, I just need to know why I’m not enough for you…” Her voice cracks slightly, and she wipes at her face angrily.
She’s left me speechless, again. Every fiber in my body is screaming at me to just give in and tell her the truth. Tell her that it’s always been her. That there’s been no else but her, and at this rate, I can’t ever imagine anyone else taking up space in my heart the way that she has. Even as kids, I knew there was something special about her. Nobody has ever made me feel this alive, this at ease in my own skin.
I should tell her that.
But instead, I say nothing. The silence stretches between us like the last strum of a guitar in the song that just ended on her phone. Long, unyielding, and utterly heartbreaking.
“You’re a coward, Spencer,” she spits out. Grabbing her phone and the bottle of whiskey at our feet, she storms into the snow-fort, leaving me alone to listen to the crackling logs on the fire, and regretting every second of my silence.
I put out the fire, then head inside the house to take a quick shower. I change into warm pajamas, and grab Phoebe a pair of my warm thermal pants and another sweatshirt that doesn’t smell like the campfire before heading back out to the snow-fort for the night.
I sit on the porch for a while, trying to give Phoebe some space, but it’s freezing out here and it isn’t long before I give in and slide the zipper of the tent open, squeezing my way into the small space.
Immediately the air between us is charged, and I can’t tell if it’s due to Phoebe’s anger at me, or the normal tension that lives and breathes between us at all times.
She’s already laying on her side, facing away from the opening of the tent. I place the extra pajamas I’ve brought for her at the foot of my sleeping bag, and maneuver myself into the small space dedicated to me.
I reach down and pull the blankets over both of us, trying my best not to disturb her. The space is an extremely tight fit with the two of us squeezed in here together.
Not that I’m complaining…I’m just worried about her snuggling just a little too close. Because I don’t know how I’m going to hide the fact that I’m incredibly fucking turned on right now.
So here we are, laying side by side in a two man tent, sharing multiple layers of covers and huddled together for body warmth.
And she’s angry as hell at me.
Chapter Fifteen
Phoebe
I’mdoingmybestto ignore the fact that Spencer’s entire body is about an inch away from touching mine. It’s not an easy feat though, when I’m having to scream at myself to stop slowly inching closer to him to steal some of the body heat coming off of him.
