4. Lucy

Chapter 4

Lucy

T he reality of our situation hit me as I took everything in—his earnest smile, the blazing fire. He had taken care of me tonight. What would have happened if he hadn’t spotted me?

Immediately, I burst into tears as delayed panic shot through my body. “Oh my god, Spencer. I could be dead in my car right now. You saved my life.”

“Hey.” He threw back the covers and beckoned me closer. “Shh, come on. It’s going to be okay. Let’s get warm. We’re inside, and we’re safe. We have a fire, a stack of blankets, and tacos.” He gestured to a bowl on the end table beside the couch. “I also have these.” He held out a pair of fluffy pink socks, dangling them between us. A half-grin slid across his face as he tried to cheer me up.

I swiped my hand beneath my eyes and nodded. “I’m sorry. I’m being dramatic and silly.”

“No, you aren’t. Tonight was scary. Cry as much as you need to. Let it all out. I won’t judge you. Maybe I’ll even cry with you,” he teased gently. “Come on.” He reached out his other hand, and I took it, allowing him to pull me gently toward the couch bed. “Your hands are like ice. I’m going to help you put on your socks, okay?”

“Thank you. I don’t understand how you’re so warm right now.”

“You’re tiny.” He shrugged. “I’m huge. Plus, I’ve just always run hot, I guess. I hardly ever get cold.”

I scooted to the corner of the couch and leaned into a pile of pillows. “Well, I’m always cold. I’m shaking worse than my mother’s Chihuahua right now. But don’t worry, I won’t try to bite you or hump your leg—well, your ankle. Buster is too small to reach leg level.”

He chuckled as he knelt on the bed across from me. “That’s good to know.”

I cringed as I felt my face get hot. “I’ll stop talking now.” Or maybe I should say more. The blush was warming me up. Or was it having his hands on me that had me all hot and bothered?

His big palm encircled my ankle, and he carefully slid the sock onto my foot.

“Thanks…” I said, exhaling and watching in rapt attention as he tended to my other foot. The only thing that could make this moment better would be if I could actually feel my feet.

“Your feet really are freezing.” He observed with a frown as he rubbed them between his hands.

“I know. I can’t feel my toes anymore. What if I get gangrene and have to get some amputated? Will I get a discount on pedicures? Could that be a macabre silver lining to this situation?”

Smiling eyes met mine. “Stop being hilarious and cute. I can’t take it.”

I glanced at him from beneath my lashes, then quickly looked away. “Aw, I was aiming for tempting and gorgeous, dang it.”

I inhaled a soft gasp.

I was flirting with him.

Me, nerdy arty, weirdo Lucy was flirting with Sexy-Spencer.

Maybe the near-death experience had cleared away some of my shyness. Or maybe I was just sick of regretting how I had always been too nervous to really talk to him. Carpe Diem, I decided I was going to make the most of this.

“If that’s what you’re aiming for, you succeeded.” His eyes remained on me when I looked up. “I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to flirt with you tonight. Can I?”

“Trust your instincts, Spencer,” I replied with a grin, thrilled beyond words that he’d returned my flirting. “You’re already irresistible. I was a snowbound damsel, and you saved me. You carried me to a cabin in the woods, built a fire, and are currently warming my feet. Are we in a fairy tale right now? Are you secretly a prince?”

“A prince who works on cars and drives a tow truck? I don’t think so.” He released my feet, dragging a hand down his face as his cheeks turned pink. “Anyway, I think I can help, I mean with your feet. Can I try?”

I burst out laughing. “You’re already helping me, Spencer.”

He lifted his shirt and pulled my feet close, hugging them in his arms and pressing them against his abs.

I squeezed my eyes shut as I resisted the temptation to feel him up with my toes. God, ever since high school, I’d been such a freaky little perv when it came to him.

I peeked at him from the corner of my eye. “You are literally a human space heater. That feels so much better. I was tempted to stick them in the fire for a minute there.”

Our eyes met and held as heat flared between us—not just between his abs and my feet—real heat. His eyes blazed into mine. I was not imagining this. I sank into the moment, letting myself feel it, making a memory of it so I wouldn’t doubt it later when my insecurities rose and tried to make me let it go.

He cleared his throat, breaking the moment. “So. Uh…”

“Yeah. I mean—yeah. Um…”

“Should we eat the tacos?” he suggested.

“Good thinking.” I unwrapped my hair and tossed the towel in the corner with his wet shirt. “I’ll pick that up tomorrow, and your shirt too. It’s the least I can do.”

“Thanks.” He reached for the bowl. “You were right. They’re pretty beat up. But they still taste good. I snuck a bite when you were in the bathroom.”

I grabbed the second fork from the bowl and took a taste, tipping my head back with a groan. “Delicious. I was on the verge of becoming hangry. You don’t deserve to be stuck with me in that mood. It can get pretty ugly. I feel like we earned these.”

He let out a chuckle. “We sure did. That was an interesting drive, to say the least.”

“Interesting, yeah. You got that right.”

We finished eating the tacos in no time. As we ate, the fire took the icy cold edge off the space, and I relaxed a bit.

“I’ll take that.”

“Thanks.” I passed him the bowl, and he put it on the table.

He slid down and turned to his side. “I’ll repeat it. You’re safe with me, I’m warm, and you’re welcome to share it.”

Warm?

No.

He was hot.

Spencer was the sexiest man I’d seen in my entire life. A laugh shot out of me as I contemplated the ridiculousness of this situation. Earlier tonight, I’d been on a ten-minute date from hell, and now I was up close and forced proximity-personal with my secret high school crush. Go me.

I slid beneath the covers, resting my head on the pillow beside his. His arm stretched over my head, and his body heat beckoned me like a beacon. I turned to face him, biting my lip as I tried to think of something normal to say. Being normal was hard for me under average circumstances, and I worried about what would come out of my mouth when I was still one-quarter freaked out, okay three-quarters. Lying to myself was a bad habit I had yet to quit.

“I went on a date tonight. It was terrible,” I blurted. “The only good thing about it was the tacos.”

Holy crap, what’s wrong with me? Too much information, anyone?

His body tensed, eyes growing sharp. “Do I know him?” He asked without missing a beat or making me feel awkward. “Is he your boyfriend?”

“No, well, maybe. I mean, no, he’s not my boyfriend, and maybe you know him.” I shook my head, trying to get my nervous energy out of it so I could make sense. “He lives in town but is not a local; he’s new. He invited me out at the last minute, and I stupidly said yes. Then, when I got there, he asked why I wasn’t dressed up, like hair, makeup, heels—he told me he expected more from a date and that my butt was too big for my jeans. So I left. I stormed from the table in a huge huff and ordered the to-go taco platter because fuck that guy.”

“First of all, he asked you out at the last minute and expected—what exactly? It’s Taco Time. What the hell? That place is a dump. The food is great, but it’s a total dive.”

“Exactly! That’s what I said. Well, that’s the nicest thing I said, anyway.”

“Good for you.” His eyes raked me up and down before gifting me with a lazy smile. “Don’t take crap from anyone. And second, Lucy, sweetheart, any man who doesn’t appreciate how stunningly gorgeous you are—and I’m including your amazing ass in this statement—is a fucking idiot who doesn’t deserve one single moment of your time.”

I sank into the bed as all the air left my body. My eyes got huge as my brain rattled around in my head, trying to take in what he had just said to me.

He threw back the covers and stood up, startling me. “It’s time.”

“What?” My eyes darted to him with concern. “Wait, are you leaving? Where would you go?”

“I’m not going anywhere except to the other side of the bed. Get into my spot. It’s warm.”

“Oh, okay. You had me worried for a second. That you?—”

“What, that I expect hair and makeup formality when we’re in the weirdest situation ever? That you have to put on a show and not be a real person with fears and concerns?”

I rolled into his spot, sinking into his leftover warmth with a thankful sigh as I pulled the covers up to my chin. As discretely as I could, I inhaled a deep breath, taking in the scent he’d left behind—it was heavenly, crisp, and clean, like sandalwood and fresh air. My thawed-out toes curled into the mattress as I fought the urge to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. Why did he have to smell so good?

“Maybe. I don’t know. I never know how to act around people. I’ve known you forever, but we don’t know each other well enough not to make this awkward. Does that make sense?”

"I understand what you mean, but we’ve already moved past awkward tonight. Let’s get comfortable and try to relax so we can sleep. I promise not to judge you for being emotional or scared. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I don’t expect any formality, and I hope you feel the same way.”

“I do feel the same. You’ve definitely seen me at my worst. Like nose running, smeared makeup, spiraling into a freakout, crying worst. And let’s not even get into what my hair must look like right now.”

“Likewise, you saw me get nervous in my truck. I was scared too, and also worried that I would end up failing us both. And full disclosure, you were in the bathroom when I sent my dad a panicked help-me SOS text—which, sadly, did not go through.”

“I guess we are trauma-bonded for life now.”

“We are. And we’re going to be okay.” He circled the bed and then climbed in next to me. “How are your feet feeling?”

“So much better. I can feel my toes now, and there is no pain. That’s probably a good sign, right?”

“Yup. But you’ll be paying full price next time you get them painted that pretty shade of pink.”