Spence’s eyes widen, and something in me threatens to snap. The room feels smaller. Hotter. Too loud. Too much. Everywhere I look are examples of what I want but can’t have.
Correction: What I won’t let myself have.
I tug at my bowtie, suddenly suffocating. “Can we leave, Spence?” My voice comes out rough. Too tight.
He turns quickly, concern flashing across his face. “What?”
“I really need to get out of here, Perfect.” Spence doesn’t question it. Just nods, grabbing my arm and steering me through the crowd. His grip is firm and grounding, and he doesn’t let go until we’re outside. The night air hits my face, cool and sharp, and I suck in a breath like I’ve been holding it underwater.
When he releases me, I yank my bowtie off, shoving it into my pocket, pulling my phone out to text my driver.
“You good?” he asks, as we wait.
I nod as I drag in another long breath. “Yeah. Just, um, got a little claustrophobic.” Spence narrows his eyes, not believing me for a second. Before he can push, the headlights of the limo sweep the curb. He moves swiftly, stepping forward, opening the door. I just look at him for a second, a mountain of emotions sitting on my chest.
He gestures. “Get in the car, Ryan.” I obey and he follows in after me. The door shuts and the limo pulls away. The silence that follows—It’s loud. Thick. Feels like it stretches for hours, even though it’s probably two minutes, tops.
Spence finally breaks it. “Ryan, I—”
“Did you mean what you said?” I blurt, the words tumbling out in a frenzy. “About fucking me?” He freezes. His eyes close and his jaw clenches, hard enough I can see it. The car slows, pulling up to the curb outside his building.
Spence opens his eyes and shakes his head. “No. I’m sorry. I took it too far. It’s just—”
“Just what?” I push.
He exhales. “Nothing. It’s fine.”
“Clearly it’s not,” I say, shifting toward him. “Let’s go upstairs and—”
“There’s nothing to discuss.” His tone sharpens. Final. “Go home, Ryan. I’ll see you at the gym.” He reaches for the door handle, then pauses. “And” he adds, quieter. “We should probably keep things to that. To the gym. Strictly. Tonight was a mistake.”
That. Fucking. Stings.
Spence’s piercing words feel like a floor giving out beneath me. He opens the door, steps out, and shuts it firmly behind him. I sit there, staring as he jogs up to the entrance without looking back.
My eyes prickle, and I feel…empty.
I stare forward, swallowing hard before tapping on the partition. The driver lowers it and looks at me in the rearview.
“Take me home,” I say quietly.
Seventeen
I Touch Myself
Ryan
It’s been two days.
Two days since the exhibit.
Two days since Spencer Stark leaned in close, said those smutty, wrecking things in that low, controlled voice. And then he took it back. He just stepped out of the limo like it was nothing. Like he didn’t leave me sitting there, half out of my mind, completely undone.
Go home, Ryan.
Yeah. I tried that. Problem is, he came with me. Not physically. But his words? His tone? Yeah, they fucking came home with me. He can try and deny it all he wants, but the filthy thoughts swimming in his irises betray the cold exterior he puts on for the world.
His lewd words have been playing on a loop in my head like a pornographic soundtrack…and I haven’t been able to keep my hands off myself.
