My head was clouded with what Peyton said.
She’s meeting up with Jax tonight. He wanted to talk.
Were they talking right now? Had they already talked? Was he being a fucking grown-up this time? Or was she scared and needed me to step in again?
The alcohol from earlier was wearing off, only making my thoughts more intrusive. As much as I’d told myself every day to stop texting her, that she wouldn’t answer, I had zero self-control. Even though I wasn’t supposed to know that they were meeting up, I did. And it was fucking torture. It was taking everything in me not to text Peyton for more information.
“Fuck it,” I grumbled, grabbing my phone from the kitchen counter.
Me: Hi, Peyton. I know Jayson was supposed to keep his mouth shut, but it’s not his fault?—
I was mid text when the elevator door dinged. There were only a couple of people on my list that were allowed access without having to call up for permission. And I swear to God, if Jayson was barging in on me, I was going to fucking lose it.
“Spencer?”
I froze.
Her sweet sound echoed through my penthouse, and my stomach bottomed out. I’d been dying to hear her voice. For weeks, I’d spent my lonely nights, filling the void in all the ways she used to say my name.
The breathy tone when I had her underneath me.
The grogginess in her voice when I’d wake her up too early.
The sweet way she clipped my name, calling me Spence.
Now adding to the list, the question in her voice as she searched for me, continuing to call out my name.
“Spencer? Are you home?”
Her question pulled me out of the spiral my mind was going down. This wasn’t a moment of reminiscing—this was real. She was here, calling out for me.
My throat was dry, unable to get the words out.
Instead of answering her, I followed her voice like a siren.
When she walked in from the elevator, she must have turned down the hall toward my room. The entryway was empty, her intoxicating cherry scent being the only thing in my path.
At forty years old, I’d never been nervous to come face to face with a woman before. But Avery had a way of bringing me to my knees. She had full control over me, making me feel weak the moment I laid my eyes on her. With her being here, my mind went to one of two places: she’d break it off with me for good, orshe’d work through this with me, take me back, and put me out of my fucking misery.
Before she could shatter my heart, I stood back, watching as she looked for me in every corner of my bedroom. When I wasn’t in the closet or the bathroom, she turned to head out of the room to look elsewhere. Except, she wouldn’t get far, because I was already there, looking at her just a few feet away with my eyes latched onto hers.
“Spencer...” Her lips parted as she cried my name.
“Bella.” My eyes stung with tears that threatened to fall. I could hardly say her name without feeling the ache in my heart when there was still a possibility I could lose her for good.
Her purse dropped to the floor, and before I could even hear the thump, her arms wrapped behind my neck, and her legs hugged tightly around my waist.
I’d hold her in my arms until they completely gave out. And even then, I’d fall along with her, keeping her against my body until the end of fucking time.
I couldn’t risk letting her go again.
“Spencer.”
My name was the only word on the tip of her tongue. Her body shook as she cried it into my ear over and over again, and each time, I told her everything would be alright.
Her back molded to my hands. The sensation of touching her felt completely unreal.
“Talk to me, Avery,” I whispered into her shoulder.
