“Okay let’s take this food inside before this turns into some weird crying fest thing,” Spencer speaks up from the backseat and I let a small laugh out before remembering I dislike him.
Ha. As if telling myself that can make it true.
We grab all the food and head up the front steps to the house, when I see something move from above us. I take a couple of steps back to get a better view into the windows on the second story, and eat shit on the step and slip backwards into the yard.
The breath is knocked out of me and I’m pretty sure my entire body is bruised from behind. Piper is laughing like a hyena and jumping up and down on the porch,whilepointing her phone at me. I’m going to kill her as soon as I can force my body to work again.
I start to sit up slowly when Spencer steps forward and reaches his hand out to help me up. The moment our hands touch I feel like an electric current is flowing throughout my entire body and I suck in a startled breath at the same time he does. He hoists me up and out of the snow, and I stumble directly into his arms.
His very warm, very muscled arms.
I must not fall for Spencer Larson.
I will not fall for Spencer Larson.
I cannot fall for Spencer freaking Larson.
Repeating my mantra helps me take that much needed step out of his arms and I look up into his eyes. “Thank you,” I tell him with a polite smile. I’m glad that it’s dark enough now that he can’t see how red my face is.
“You’re welcome,” he answers back softly, and he smiles a crooked smile back down at me. This smile isn’t the panty-dropping smile I’ve gotten used to over the last hour of being around him. This one is more reserved, softer somehow. This smile feels significantly more intimate, and strangely, like it was made just for me.
Before I can say anything back to him, something moves and catches my eye again. I narrow my eyes and look at Piper.
“Why is there a cat in my bedroom window?”
“Oh don’t mind him, that’s just Little E,” Piper answers back with a shrug before walking back up the steps to the front door. “Dad decided that this whole empty nest thing was for the birds after Phil moved out, so he went and got himself a stray.”
Okay, so maybe things aren’t exactly the same as they were when I left. I didn’t know that my little brother moved out. I guess I haven’t actually been the best daughter, or sister. I don’t remember the last time I answered my parents phone calls without trying to rush through the conversation. And I can’t count how many unanswered texts Phillip has sent me over the last few months.
I look back up at the cat who has now replaced me, and I feel a lump in my throat as I follow Piper and Spencer into the house. I’m hit with a wave of sadness as I realize just how much I’ve missed since I’ve been gone.
Chapter Six
Spencer
We’reallcrammedintight around the Andrews’ family table, much like we used to when we were all kids. The pizzas have all been demolished, and the pasta and breadsticks are nearly empty now. I’m not sure where Austin and Phil ran off to with the brownies, but I’ll be sure to hunt them down before I leave, because Lucene’s brownies are the best damn brownies on the entire planet.
Dad and Mr. Andrews are in the den watching whatever sport is playing, and Mrs. Andrews and Mom got up a few minutes ago to start cleaning up the dishes. Piper is outside on the back porch all bundled up in her winter coat and beanie while talking on the phone with some friend of hers back in Germany.
That just leaves Phoebe and I at the table.
I haven’t been able to stop sneaking peeks at her all night. Something is obviously bothering her, and it’s bothering me that I don’t know what it is. Ever since we pulled up to her house, she’s seemed off. It’s like an aura of sadness is enveloping her. When we got inside with the food, everyone did their normal song and dance with lots of hugs and even more ‘We’ve missed yous’, but the fire in Phoebe’s eyes has completely smoldered out. A normal person would just be able to reach out and ask if she’s okay, but I know I’m the last person in this house she’d feel comfortable opening up to.
My eyes follow her as she stands up and walks towards the front door. A moment later, I hear that tell-tale sound of a sniffle right before the front door opens, and closes.
I’m pretty sure she’s crying. And like that giant idiot that I am, I stand up and follow her outside. I can’t just let her sneak away and cry alone, not when it’s obvious that something is upsetting her.
How am I the only one to see how sad she is?
We are surrounded by her family, yet nobody seems to reallyseeher. That bothers me a lot more than it should. I’m just going to go check if she’s okay, and then I’ll let her be.
At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
I grab my coat and quietly open the front door, and close it shut behind me. When I turn, I see her sitting on the front steps. She has her arms wrapped around her knees, which are pulled tightly to her chest. The Christmas lights on the house illuminate her face just enough to see the tears glistening on her cheeks, and all I want to do is hold her until she stops crying.
Instead, I make sure to take a loud enough step towards her so she knows I’m here. I don’t want to startle her and upset her even more. She turns her face in my direction and quickly wipes the evidence of her distress off with the back of her hands. Her mascara smears a little bit on the corners of her eyes, but somehow it makes her even more beautiful.
She hasn’t yelled at me to go away, so I take that as permission to get closer to her. As I do, I take my jacket and place it over her shoulders, then I sit down a respectful distance away on the step next to her.
