Games of Fire (19 page)

She scoffed, fiddling with her phone, not ready to face him. “Really? Because it’s just like you.”

“I know!” His hand appeared over the screen of her phone, blocking her from randomly flipping through the pages, giving her no choice but to meet his gaze. “That wasn’t my intention. Just come back and let me start over. Please?”

Her head warned her to say no. The refusal burned at the back of her throat, climbing up to settle on the tip of her tongue. But one look into his pleading, apologetic eyes and the word dissolved into a resigned, “Fine!” She jabbed him in the chest with her finger. “One BS remark from you and I’m gone.”

A ghost of a smile haunted his mouth. “Deal.”

This is a bad idea!
She kept telling herself the whole way back to the table. But even as her butt slipped into the booth and Spencer regained his place across from her, she couldn’t make herself walk away. Maybe she was just curious to see what he was up to. Or maybe she wanted to see if there really was a decent person behind that cold mask. Whatever the cause was, it all boiled down to curiosity.

“So?” she prompted when he said nothing.

His lips peeled back into a smile. He chuckled. “I can see patience isn’t your strongest suit.”

She frowned, biting back the threatening twitch in her lips. “I have been patient. You just refuse to answer any of my questions.”

His head bobbed slowly. “Fair enough.” He sat straighter in his chair, folding his arms on the table while meeting her gaze squarely, and began. “I like red. I like leather even more and the view is amazing from where I’m sitting.” Sophie tried not to squirm when his eyes burned intently into hers. “As for what this is, I have no idea and that’s why I didn’t want this booth.”

“I don’t understand.”

He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, a wince twisting his features as he stared down at the table. “I used to be better at this, at explaining myself I mean. I was never afraid of telling a girl how I felt.” He exhaled. Pain reflected off the silver surface of his eyes. “I truthfully have no idea why it’s so hard to stay away from you. I’ve managed to keep away from every girl I’ve come across for two years. It was easy when I simply wasn’t interested. But you …” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I have no idea what happened.”

Sophie raised an eyebrow. “So
you’re telling me you weren’t a jerk to every girl you’ve ever met? What made me so lucky?”

He raised his head and peered at her through his fringes. “Because the moment I walked into the kitchen and saw you, I knew you would be a problem.”

“Hey!”

His hand came up, stilling her outrage. “Let me finish!” He snorted a chuckle when she pressed her lips together in silence, but frowned warningly at him while she
folded her arms and sat back. “I haven’t noticed a girl in two years. I pride myself on pretending that females don’t exist. It was easier than going through what I went through with Aimee. It should have been the same with you. I should have been able to avoid you, erase you from my mind, but two seconds and you’ve burrowed into my brain like a splinter, pricking all my nerves and frustrating the hell out of me. If I had a choice, I would have you amputated, because I …” He sucked in a lungful of air, released it sharply. “I don’t trust you.”

Sophie’s eyes bulged. “Me? How can you not trust me?
You don’t know me!”

He shook his head. “Not you exactly. I don’t trust girls, women
… females in general. Every girl I have ever met has lied to me.”

“
You mean Aimee,” she hissed through her teeth, her nails gouging into the skin where she gripped her upper arms.

He shook his head
slowly. “Not just Aimee. What Aimee did was unforgiveable, but she wasn’t the only one.”

“Okay, so what are you telling me exactly?” She fought hard not to let her voice waver, not to scream in frustration.

Seconds cracked like lightning through the silence. He said nothing while he examined the hands he’d laid flat on the tabletop. “That I don’t know what this is. I can’t promise you anything.”

She swallowed back the irrational prickle of tears. “Because you don’t want to?”

He hesitated before giving a single bob of his head. “Exactly. I can’t go through that again and if I’ve learned anything, it’s that it’s easier to walk away when there are no emotional attachments.”

The same waitress they’d seen earlier appeared at their table, smiling brightly. Her blonde ponytail swung at her back.

“Hello! I’m Shannon and I’ll be your waitress for this evening!” Her blue eyes swung from Sophie to Spencer and widened. “Oh my God, Spencer! You look so different! I didn’t recognize you!”

Spencer smiled at her, really smiled at her, the way he smiled at the kids at school. The way he
smiled at everyone but Sophie, like he was genuinely happy to see them.

“Hey, Shan!”

“How you been?” she asked.

Spencer shrugged. “Hanging in there. You? How’s Mike?
You guys still together?”

Shannon
nodded, her cheeks pink. “He’s good. Started his first class at the university this fall.”

“That’s great. Tell him I said hi.”

“I will!” The girl continued to beam, but caught herself enough to take their drink order and leave behind plastic encased menus.

Sophie took up hers, but didn’t open it as she glared at Spencer. “Why aren’t you a jerk to everyone else? If all girls are the same and blah, blah, blah?”

He peeked at her from over his menu. “Because you are nothing like her, or any other girl.”

The fiery tickle of outrage burned up her throat. “How
the hell would you know that when you never gave me a chance?”

Something dark and scorching flickered behind his eyes. “Because no other girl has ever made me want to forget all my own rules for them.”

“Why did you bring me here?” Sophie asked as they split an extra-large, fully loaded pizza.

Never pausing in
the dissection of his slice, Spencer shrugged. “I thought you’d like it.”

Sophie chewed the bite she took of her slice
and swallowed. “Why are you doing that?” she asked as he separated the toppings into messy piles on his plate.

His nose wrinkled. “I don’t like my food touching other food.”

She stopped chewing. “Come again?”

He sighed, raising his head from his task. There were faint touches of pink in his cheeks. “I don’t like my food mixed together like this.”

It took all the effort in the world not to crack a rib as she stifled the laugh ripping through her. “You must really hate chicken pot pie then.”

Spencer winced, actually looking ill. “I can’t even look at those things.”

There was no stopping it. She laughed until there were tears streaming down her face and she couldn’t breathe.

“It’s not funny!” Spencer protested, biting back his own laugh. “It’s a serious condition!”

That only made her laugh harder. “That is the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard,” she choked out, wiping the tears on her cheeks.

He scowled at her, wiping his fingers on a napkin. “Okay, so you now know my dirty secret. Tell me one of yours.”

“No way!” she gasped.

“It’s only fair!”

“I don’t have any weird secrets!”

His eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe that. Everyone does.”

Sophie had to really think about it. “I bite my nails.”

“That’s not weird. That’s just gross.” He laughed, ducking the pepperoni she flung at him from off her pizza. “Okay, something else.”

She shook her head slowly, thinking hard. “I don’t like seafood with legs.”

His eyebrow rose. “Seafood with legs?”

She made a scuttling motion with her fingers across the table. “Crabs, shrimp, lobsters … things that scurry around … ugh!”

He rolled his tongue over his teeth. “So you like fish.”

Her nose wrinkled. “Uh … no.”

“But they don’t have legs.”

She tactfully averted her eyes and scratched the back of her head. “They have eyes.”

Spencer laughed, a deep, belly rumbling chuckle that infected her, making her giggle along with him.

“And you think
I’m
weird?” he wheezed through choked gasps.

“Shut up!” She
poked at a mushroom on her pizza. “Fish have creepy, bulging eyes. It’s disgusting!”

He sobered slightly, shaking his head. “You have issues.”

“So, why did you quit Chateau Pierre?” she asked, detouring the topic.

Spencer shrugged, going back to taking apart his pizza, which she was quickly finding endearing. “I was in a bad place. I needed change.”

“Well, thank you for bringing me here. I really love it.”

His fingers paused in his
picking and his head came up. His eyes locked on hers. “You’re welcome.”

For such a tense beginning, the evening ended
well with Spencer leading Sophie through the restaurant, telling her all the insane mishaps he’d had while working for Pierre. Sophie was in tears by the time they reached the back door. Her sides ached and she had to beg him to stop.

“But I’m getting to the best part!” he complained, laughing.

Sophie stopped walking and turned to him. “Better than dumping the pasta on the woman’s head?”

“Okay, maybe not that good, but
… ” He swept open the drapes and motioned her ahead. “She came back the next day—”

“She didn’t!” she gasped, ducking under his arm.

The walk from the curtain to the door was much shorter now that she knew what to expect on the other side. She reached the door first and twisted it open, engulfing them in a blistering gust of wet wind. She shivered, drawing her jacket closer around her body.

“She asked for a different server,” Spencer finished, following her down the rickety steps.

Sophie laughed, shaking her head. “Can you blame her? You were an awful waiter!”

“I was new and no one told me to balance out the tray.”

“So you put all the
heavy
drinks on one side and the
light
plates on the other? Common sense need not apply, right?”

He nudged her playfully with his elbow. “It made sense at the time.”

She snickered, opening her mouth to respond when the ground slipped from beneath her feet, flinging her backwards. Her yelp died on her lips as she grappled for the first solid object to hang on to and caught Spencer’s arm. Caught unaware, Spencer had no time to brace his feet before he, too, was yanked down after her. They landed in a tangled heap across the black, wet asphalt, panting and groaning.

Spencer righted himself first, rolling onto his knees. “All right?”

“Ow!” she moaned, rubbing her backside. “You were supposed to be all heroic and catch me.”

He snorted. “I’ll be more vigilant next time.”

They rose gingerly to their feet, dusting off mud from their pants and jackets.

Sophie glanced up and caught Spencer watching her with a wary look in his eyes. “What?”

He shook his head, straightening his jacket. “Nothing. Here.” He stretched out his arm, hand splayed open.

She didn’t mean to, but she stiffened. Her gaze dropped to the long, slender fingers reaching for her. Her stomach fluttered. Her tongue snaked out, dampening her suddenly dry lips. Her brain deliberated the wisdom of touching him.

“I won’t bite,” he said, probably meaning it as a joke.

“Oh if that were my only problem,” she sighed under her breath.

“What?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

She took his hand, slipping her icy fingers through his. The electric sparks tore a fiery path down the length of her arm, nearly melting the ice beneath their feet. She shivered involuntarily and felt his fingers flex.

“All right?” Had his voice always been so husky?

She dampened her lips. “Yeah … ” The single word died in her throat as she was pulled towards him. Her heart tripped. Her lungs stilled. The heat of his body rushed over her with the subtle scent of peppermint, leather, spices and smoke.

A soft mist blew around them. Raindrops glistened in his hair, shimmering under the pale glow of the light post. His eyes were shadowed beneath wispy fringes, but the silver in them glinted like pools of liquid mercury. Her breath caught. It must have made a sound because his fingers tightened. His shaky exhale whispered across her face.

“This,” he whispered so quietly she almost didn’t hear him. “Is why you are so bad for me.”

“I’m still pretty sure that’s my line,” she murmured.

The corner of his mouth twisted into a lopsided grin. “Watch your step.”

He kept a firm grip on her hand as he edged around the frozen puddle towards the Neon parked only five feet away. It took two
seconds to realize something was horribly wrong.