I watch him pour a bottle of water into his glass before he swipes a cookie from the plate in front of me. A sound escapes his mouth that causes my eyes to widen slightly, a throwback to a time that shouldn’t have been.
He enjoys cookies the same way he enjoys my pussy.
A long silence graces us, and I wiggle my fingers against the countertop.
“Do you have any hard liquor?” I shoot out.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“After the way this week is going, yes, I’m sure. It’s after 8pm, so I’m leading by example.” I give him a cocky look.
He shakes his head ruefully. “All right.”
Spencer walks to a high cupboard near the pantry and pulls out a bottle of tequila. I kind of assumed a guy like him would have a whole bar for entertaining, but alas, no.
A minute later, he has two shot glasses on the counter, and before he has a chance to find lime or salt, I pour a glass and quickly down it.
“Whoa, slow down, horsey.” He takes the bottle from me.
“It's been one of those days,” I lament and hold my glass out again.
“No shit. Want to talk about how you’ve been in a mood since the grocery store?”
Great, the reminder. I had nearly put the grocery store fiasco to the back of my head. Now that emotional boil begins to resurface… again.
“You have shitty timing,” I inform him.
Spencer also takes a shot without the essential lime and salt. “I beg to differ. When it comes to baseball and sex, then my timing is right on par.”
“Of course, you would say that. I just need no more surprises for a while.’
He pauses for a second and his jaw flexes side to side. “April, about the child comment—”
My hand flies up to stop him. “Don’t remind me. You are as bad as Jeff. It’s not true, you know?” I hop off the stool and hold onto the shot glass for dear life. “I’m a fun person.”
“Riveting,” he deadpans.
But my rant continues. “I would have been a good wife. You know, sometimes two people just are not sexually compatible or maybe he is the one who's no good in bed. So good luck to hisnewfiancée. Besides, how wrong is he, I mean, I made a sex tape because I can be wild, so fuck him and his opinions,” I ramble, take a shot, then realize to my horror what I just admitted.
My eyes shoot up to Spencer who is studying me intently. “Is that why he ended your engagement, because he thought you weren’t good in bed?”
I avoid his eyes because this is beyond embarrassing. “Can we just ignore the last minute?”
“No, because it isn’t true.”
My gaze snaps in his direction, and I can’t read his face. “You don’t need to lie on my account.”
The corner of his mouth hitches up. “When you talk, sometimes I want to ram a soap bar into your mouth, but damn, you have a talented mouth.”
I feel my jaw drop because he has such strong conviction in his voice, and his words are probably the sweetest thing someone has said to me in a while, which has me questioning my sanity.
Spencer steps in my direction, and I feel like anticipation moves in a wave through me. I’m not sure what he's going to do, especially when his glass clinks against the counter when he sets it down in passing.
When he reaches me, his fingers grab my glass. “You may want to go easy with this.” He sets it behind him on the counter.
“Show me the video.”
He clucks the inside of his cheek. “Not a good idea.”
