Games of Fire (36 page)

“I’m not going to hurt you, Spencer,” she whispered. “I’m not her. That’s what I’ve been trying all this time to tell you. I’m not Aimee!”

No hesitation, no doubt, he looked into her eyes and murmured, “I know.”

She searched his face with surprise. “You do?”

He nodded. “I’m an idiot for not believing my heart sooner, but I’m usually pretty good at learning from my mistakes.”

Sophie swallowed hard. “What are you saying, Spencer?”

He dampened his lips. “Go to the Valentine’s Day dance with me?”

Her jaw slackened. “Really?”

He moved a curl off her face. “Unless you have other plans?”

She shook her head. “No! I mean, I was going to Brian’s cabin, but
… ”

“We can still go if you like.”

She nodded, still a bit dazed. “Yeah. I’d like that!”

Sophie woke up the next morning with an unusual amount of vigor. She leapt out of bed as though the mattress springs had catapulted her to her feet. The almost euphoric sensation stayed with her all through her shower and even when she
dressed. It was a little more work trying to keep her features schooled when she walked into the kitchen to find her father scowling over a mug of coffee. He looked up from the single slice of toast sitting in front of him and glowered at her.

“You didn’t tell us you were leaving last night!”

“I left a note,” she said, moving to take the bowl and spoon her mother passed her over the island.

“That isn’t how we communicate in this house,” he retorted. “We don’t leave
notes.
If you wanted to go out, you tell us.”

Sophie dared a sideway glance in her mother’s direction, saw no help there and faced her father once more. “I’ve done it before. I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

“Well it—”

“Ben!” Her mother sighed, turning while she stirred a cup of tea. “Just tell her why you’re really upset!”

Twin flags of pink rode high on his cheeks as he glowered at his wife before turning his attention back on Sophie. “I had a talk with Spencer the other night—”

“Dad!”

He ignored her humiliated protest. “He’s a good, solid kid with potential. Hear me out!” he snapped when she opened her mouth again. “But that doesn’t mean I like him molesting my daughter on my sofa!”

“What
… he … !” Mortification strangled her tongue, sending her words tripping over each other. “He wasn’t
molesting
me! It was a kiss!”

A single eyebrow rose to contradict her. “Sophie,” he said exasperated. “I know the difference between a kiss and a
kiss
!”

“So you’re saying we can’t kiss on your sofa?”

“I’m saying I’d rather you didn’t kiss at all. In fact, I would die happy if you maintained a ten foot distance at all times. But … ” He glanced at her mother and glanced back at Sophie. “I know that’s unfair to ask.”

“Unfair? It’s crazy!”

He waved a hand dismissively. “My point is, cool the hormones. The last thing I need is anymore gray hairs, or grandchildren.”

Her sharp intake of air propelled a spitball back into her throat, choking her. She doubled over, hacking and coughing. The spoon tumbled out of the bowl in her hand. It hit the laminate with a noisy clutter.

When she finally managed to calm down, she set the bowl down on the table, picked up the spoon, set it on the table as well and faced her father. “Who said anything about grandchildren? We’re not having sex and if we were—”

“Ahh!”

She ignored the rapid shake of his head and the wave of his hands by plunging on. “I do know a thing or two about protection! I do sometimes listen when you guys tell me stuff, like how to have safe—”

Her father made a face between torture and regret. “We’re not having this talk!” He rose quickly to his feet, gathering his briefcase from beneath the table. “That is your mother’s department. My department is beating the stuffing out of that boy if
… well, for a great number of reasons. One of them being me becoming a grandfather at my young age. Now, I’m late.” He hurried over to her, kissed her forehead. “Don’t make me break his legs, okay? Have a good day at school.”

“I’m not an idiot!” she yelled after him as he hurried out of the kitchen. She turned to her mother. “What the hell was that?”

Sipping her tea leisurely while watching the show with amusement dancing in her eyes, her mother shrugged. “Your father coming to terms with reality.”

Her
bizarre morning conversation followed her down her walkway. She was so lost in thought she narrowly missed the figure standing by the fence dividing her yard from Spencer’s.

“You look
conflicted.”

Sophie jumped, spinning around. “Geez! Why are you always sneaking up on me?”

Spencer pushed away from the fence and ambled over to her, looking ridiculously gorgeous in his black jeans and cargo jacket with his hair falling into his eyes. “Because you’re easy to sneak up on.” He joined her on the sidewalk. “What are you thinking so hard about?”

They started towards school.

“You told me my dad didn’t give you a hard time the night he stayed with you at your house.”

He raised an eyebrow at her accusing tone. “No I didn’t. I said everything was fine.”

“You said you didn’t talk!”

He shook his head. “I said it was quiet.”

“Quiet means there was no talking involved!”

He stopped walking and turned to her. “What’s up? Is your dad still pissed about us kissing?”

Sophie exhaled. “I just got the weirdest lecture from him.” She rubbed a hand over her face. “What did he say to you?”

His shoulder moved in a shrug. “The usual
; school, cars, my plans for the future. Normal stuff.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You guys didn’t talk about me at all?”

He jostled his backpack higher. “You might have come up. What’s this about?”

She considered telling him, but decided against it. “Nothing. I think my dad is just getting super paranoid.”

They continued walking.

“He just worries about you,” he murmured quietly. “He doesn’t want you to get hurt. He’s a good guy.”

Sophie started to tell him she already knew that but realized there was more to that statement than the obvious. She slanted him a glance from the corner of her eye, a little surprised to find his head down, his shoulders hunched up by his ears. It took her a moment to figure out why and she instantly felt like the biggest idiot to be standing there, complaining about her father, when his had left him and his mother for another woman. She couldn’t imagine what he must have gone through from that experience alone. Aimee hadn’t been the only one to betray him, to hurt and abandon him. He’d said before that it wasn’t just Aimee that kept him from trusting. Aimee had played a huge part, but his own father had ripped Spencer’s world apart. Sophie didn’t know Janice, but from what Spencer had said, she’d been a solid fixture in their household, someone he had trusted and grown up with.

“Spencer.” She took his hand, pulling him to a stop.

He raised his head and fixed his gaze on hers. She peered into his silvery eyes and lost the ability to formulate words of comfort. She knew she was horrible at them anyway. Anything she said now would be an attempt at humor and that wasn’t what he needed.

Instead, she reached for him, sliding her hands up his arms to encircle his shoulders. It was a bold move. Part of her expected him to push her away as he once had, and she expected
it even more when his muscles tensed against her. Her own body stiffened in uncertainty. She began to draw away.

“No.” His palms pressed into her lower back, compressing her body into his. His soft exhalation whispered over her upturned face. A single raindrop struck her cheek, drawing a small smile from him as he smoothed a thumb over the spot, wiping it away and making the area feel warm and tingly. “What was that look?”

Mind blissfully numb from his touch, it took her a moment to formulate words. “What?”

“You were looking at me funny a second ago.”

She stared at him for a minute, not understanding. Then it hit her. “Oh!” She dropped her gaze, embarrassed at having been so open with her features. “It was nothing.”

“No, it was something.” He nudged beneath her chin with a finger. “Tell me.”

Giving a sigh, she looked up. “I just thought you were going to push me away.”

Pain fluttered over his face. “I won’t.” His hand slid down her arm to curl around her fingers. He raised her hand and lightly rested her palm against his cheek. “You can touch me all you want.”

She swallowed hard. “That sounds kind of pervy.”

Spencer blinked, surprised. Then
his riotous laughter rolled through the deserted street. He drew her closer into his warmth, his chest rumbling with his low chuckles as he placed his face against hers. “You’re such a strange girl,” he murmured into her cheek.

But I still made you laugh,
she thought, silently pleased with herself as she tucked her face into the curve of his neck.

He smelled incredible, warm and spicy with a slight hint of fabric softener. She closed her eyes,
injecting him into her system.

They continued to stand that way for what felt like an eternity before she finally pulled away and smiled when he took her hand.

“Should get to school,” he murmured, threading his fingers through hers

She nodded, rolling her eyes. “Yes, I’d hate to miss Algebra II.”

He laughed, giving her a gentle tug forward.

They walked as if there was nothing new about their sides bumping with every step. Several times, Sophie had to repress the urge to rest her head on his shoulder, which surprised her. Everything was so backwards. Before he accepted her into his life, touching him had been natural and fluid. She never had to consider it really. But now that he’d given her the green light, she felt timid, unsure, as if she were breaking some kind of rule by giving in to the temptation. 

She was saved from having to make the decision when they reached the school. He walked her to her locker and waited as she gathered her books for the next two classes.

“I’ll see you at lunch?” he asked.

She nodded. “I’ll be there.” She hesitated, picking at a torn corner of her textbook. “Save me a seat?” She raised her eyes to his face.

He was watching her intently. “I will.”
With a kiss to her cheek, he walked away, leaving her to face Algebra II on her own.

At lunch, she dropped her things off at her locker, grabbed her lunch bag and hurried to the cafeteria. It was nearly completely full by the time she got there and she had to squeeze her way through the thick crowd packed around the door, shoving and making their way to the front counter and the questionable food. No one paid her any mind as she stumbled into the throng of tables and searched for a pair of gray eyes.

She found him immediately. He sat between Lauren and an empty spot she was pretty sure was for her. He had his head down, occupied by the tray of burger and fries in front of him. But that didn’t last when, seemingly out of the blue, a figure bound forward and slipped in beside him. His head came up just as Sophie stiffened.

Maggie Chow hooped her arm through his. Her glossy pink lips moved animatedly as she chattered on about something that was swallowed by the buzz around them. She smiled up at him, her big, brown eyes sparkling.

Spencer looked absolutely dumbfounded, like he had no idea what just happened or who this person was suddenly latched on to his side like an overgrown monkey. He tried to pry his arm free of her grip, but she just hung on, still talking, oblivious to his escape attempts. He said something to her that had a look of confusion passing over her face. Her smile vanished and her eyebrows furrowed. Spencer kept talking, pointing to her or maybe the spot she was in. Maggie blinked, jerking back as though he’d shoved her. Then, like some demon in a movie, her face transformed into one of livid rage. Sophie had never seen that shade of red, but it colored Maggie’s normally tan complexion. Her lips formed a line so thin, it was a white slash. Then, as if she had known all along where Sophie had been, her gaze snapped over to her, narrowing dangerously. If looks could kill, regenerate and then kill again, that would have been the look. Sophie nearly shuddered. But she had no time to. Spencer followed Maggie’s enraged stare and stiffened.

It took her the ten steps from her spot to the table to realize, Maggie had known all along she’d been standing there and that the spot next to Spencer had been for her. Sophie felt two simultaneous emotions surge through her, annoyance and a hot wave of jealousy. It took a great amount of force not to march over and snarl at the girl to take her hands off Spencer.

“Hey!” she said with a whole lot more calm than she felt.

Spencer was the one who answered with a hesitant, “Hey!”

Not really sure what the protocol was for this particular situation, Sophie glanced down the length of the full table, searching for an empty spot, since it became apparent Maggie had no intention of moving. But at the same time … her gaze shot back to Maggie, annoyance pronounced now.