Never Let Go (11 page)

Kissing Spencer was unlike anything I’d felt before. It was exciting because it was forbidden. Thrilling because it was so dangerous. Guilt tears at me for secretly wanting more.
Need
makes my body shake.

“Yes?” Spencer encourages. He takes another step toward me. “You can say it.”

“It… it was
wrong
, Spencer. Wrong and inappropriate. I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t want it.”

He chuckles. “We both know that’s not true.”

How can he see through me so easily? What scares me the most is how right he is. As we kissed, I wanted Spencer more than anything in the world.

“You don’t need to fight your feelings,” he continues. He stops in front of me and picks up my hand. I feel like a doe caught in the headlights, too startled to move. “I know it was more than a kiss. I felt it, too.” His other hand comes up to cup the side of my face.

I hold down the shiver of delight that tries to crawl up my spine. Spencer’s rough hand against my smooth cheek feels so right it should be illegal.

“There’s an energy between us,” he says, dropping his voice to a whisper. “A magnetism. It pulls me to you and you to me. You can’t deny it. You can’t tell me it’s not there.” His voice is hoarse. Each syllable’s reverberation penetrates far into my core. “I’m not going to do anything you don’t want. If you tell me to leave now, I will. But I can’t get your sweet taste off my mind.”

His intensity reaches into me and pulls out something primal. A part of myself I’d never known was there is awakened by his words.

Rational thought abandons me, and I act on instinct.

I throw my arms around his shoulders and latch my mouth onto his.

Now I know why I’ve always been on my guard around Spencer.
I have a weakness for him.
Something somewhere in the depths of my conscious always knew that. It knew that if I lost control, even for a second, I would be… lost. In him. In his presence. His aura. His
being
.

Spencer represents everything in the world that is wrong for me.

That is why I want him so much.

We collapse onto the couch in a tangle of arms and legs. Sucking, nipping, kissing, tasting. Devouring. His knee pins down right between my legs. I move my hips instinctively against his thigh, gasping at the amazing sensation that that elicits. I can’t remember why I ever thought this was wrong.

Spencer lifts his mouth to start trialing hot kisses down my exposed neck. I moan and arch into him. His hands move down my body and sweep over my breasts. He kisses my collarbone, my shoulder. My fingers fight to get a grip on his hard back. I can feel the individual muscles twist beneath my palms.

His kisses start moving down my body, toward my chest. My breathing comes faster in anticipation. Spencer’s hands dip under the hem of my tank top. I can feel them on my belly, skin on sinful skin. He makes a sound a lot like a growl as he starts to lift my shirt up.

I tense up.
No
. What am I doing? No. No, this is not right!

“Spencer, no. Stop!” I gasp.

He stops and looks at me. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t… I can’t…” I can’t admit that I’ve never done this before. I feel panic rise up in me. I start breathing hard, nearly hyperventilating. “I can’t,” I repeat. “I can’t. I can’t.”

Spencer bites his lip and very slowly eases himself off me. I feel cool air rush against my hot skin. It’s such a welcome reprieve.

The little bit of panic subsides.

“I said I wouldn’t do anything you’re not comfortable with,” Spencer tells me under his breath. “I meant it. If you’re not ready, I’m not going to push.”

I close my eyes and breathe a sigh of relief. Immediately the tension dissipates.

“But I can’t stay,” Spencer says, standing up. “Not like this. Not with you so close… like this. I won’t be able to control myself otherwise.” He turns around and walks unsteadily to the door. He opens it, bathing the room with light from the hallway.

He looks back at me for a moment. My chest continues to heave with each breath. A part of me wants him to close the door and run back in. A part of me wants the thrill of his body against mine, and to hell with indecision.

It’s a wild part that I need to control.

Spencer closes his eyes. Opens them. Runs them up and down my body. And finally leaves.

Chapter Twelve

I sit in the dark, unable to move. My heart had slowed a long time ago. My breathing has returned to normal. Still, I’m paralyzed.

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to think. I’m overwhelmed, completely and utterly overcome with emotion.

I need somebody to talk to. Unfortunately, I doubt Katy will be back tonight. It’s too late.

I alternate between periods of intense guilt and intense longing. The heavy make-out session woke something in me. I am not entirely comfortable with that dark, hidden side of myself. I’d promised Andrew I would wait. And then, the first chance I get, I give in to temptation?

No. No, this is not my fault. All of this is Spencer’s fault. If he hadn’t come up here, proclaiming he was looking for me… if he hadn’t forced his way onto me like some kind of animal—

No
. This is not Spencer’s fault, either. At least, not entirely. My body had been shaking with need when he kissed me. He knew what I wanted better than I did.

Spencer knew what I craved. And he gave it to me.

Thank God he left when he did. Otherwise, I’m afraid of how far things could have progressed. I keep remembering the night I caught him in bed with Katy. I remember her moans, his grunts, his glistening body above her. What would it be like if that had been
me
on the bed with him?

Stop
. I don’t know where all these thoughts are coming from. I should not be attracted to Spencer. I should be repulsed by him. After all, I know the way he treats women…

And what way is that?
a tiny voice in the back of my head asks.
You saw him take care of Katy after she drank too much.

That’s true. And even though he definitely initiated things with me, he let up the moment I became uncomfortable. Hell, even his twisted explanation of what he was doing in the bathroom earlier tonight makes sense, if I try to think of it from his perspective.

I wish Katy were here. She’d know what to do. What was that thing Spencer told me about her? “
Don’t trust everything she says
?” I wonder where that came from.

My mind goes back to Andrew. Back to Andrew, and the last kiss we shared. Not the one from earlier tonight, where he’d been stiff as a mannequin. The one from a week ago, before either of us knew of the peer group situation.

His kiss, while passionate, was also safe and gentle. It didn’t bring me anywhere near the level of arousal that Spencer’s did.

Spencer’s kiss was molten fire and fury. When our lips met, I became his. He possessed me. There is no other way to describe it.

Spencer kissed me the way I want to be kissed. He pushed me to my boundaries without going over. His kiss sparked a level of longing deep inside my body that I had never experienced before. It made me feel alive.

It was like being awakened by being thrown into a pool of icy water.

And what the hell is going on between Spencer and Andrew? Obviously, they know each other. Katy and I had seen them arguing. What about?

All that and more weighs on my mind as I sit in the dark, listening to the distant tick-tock of the clock’s second hand. Christ, I’m a mess.

I’d gone my whole life without having a single guy interested in me. And now, in the span of a week, I have
two
?

I honestly don’t know what to do. Sleep seems like a good option, but sleep is a long time coming even after I lie in bed and close my eyes.

***

I wake up Saturday morning determined to put last night’s events behind me. I can’t change the past. The only thing I can do is make the right decisions in the future.

It’s pretty clear that the right choice is to forget about Spencer. Not that I think it’s going to be easy. Not with his level of intensity.

Still, I have to make it clear to him that what happened last night was a mistake. I want him to know that he should not expect a repeat of that in the future.

Then comes the hard part: I have to tell Andrew what happened. I don’t know how he’ll react.

The only thing going in my favor is that things did not progress past kissing last night. Maybe it will help Andrew forgive me. Things could have easily turned much more… physical… between me and Spencer.

All that will have to wait until Monday. I want a day or two to collect my thoughts and sort out my feelings. Tomorrow is my first day at work. Being in the water will be a welcome familiarity.

I glance at the top bunk as I get out of bed. It’s unoccupied, as expected. I go down the hall to check the other room. The door is open, and there is nobody there, either. I wonder where Katy spent the night.

I make myself breakfast with the leftover groceries Spencer bought us. The first thing I want to do with my paycheck is pay him back. I do not want any kind of debt between us. If I don’t resolve it, I’m sure he will just use it as an excuse to see me.

Pickles jumps on my desk just as I’m about to get started on my homework. I shoo him away. He gives me the saddest look in the history of the world.

All of a sudden, I feel guilty for neglecting him the past few days. I pick him up and place him on my lap, then reach for his favorite brush. He purrs in content as I stroke his thick, rich fur. Eventually, he falls asleep on my legs.

“You don’t know how easy you have it, cat,” I tell him with a wistful sigh and return to my homework.

***

I don’t see Katy all day. I text her out of concern, and she gets back to me seconds later saying not to worry and that she’ll explain everything when she gets back. I take it as code for, “
I met a guy
.”

It’s dark by the time I finish my schoolwork. Even though the day is gone, I feel good about myself. I got a lot done.

I flip my MacBook open and browse iTunes for the latest episode of
True Blood
. Pickles curls up at my feet, and I relax with my show. It’s a lot easier to handle drama when it’s going on in somebody else’s love life.

***

I get up early on Sunday, excited to get to the pool. Katy is still nowhere to be seen.

I stuff a swimsuit and a few towels into my bag and head off. Technically, I’m not expected there for another few hours. I figure it’ll be good for me to do some laps to clear my mind.

I dive into the pool, slipping underwater with barely a splash. I love the easy efficiency with which my body flows. Sometimes, I feel a bit awkward on land. I’ve never had that feeling in the pool. Here, it’s just me and the gentle buoyancy that makes me feel weightless.

The first few laps are just warm ups as my muscles remember how to move again. The last time I had a chance to swim was before I rushed to Utah from boarding school to take care of my grandma. I missed the feeling.

I start to push a little harder as my heart warms up. I feel a bit of strain after being away for so long. I embrace the feeling and simply swim.

Life is simple in the water. There is no pressure, no expectations. It doesn’t matter who you are. The water treats all people fairly. You can be rich or poor, young or old, male or female. Here, it makes no difference. Here, you don’t need to think. You just need to
be
.

I burst out at the edge of the pool. My muscles are screaming, my heart is pounding, and my lungs are on fire.

I wouldn’t trade the feeling for the world.

After a few seconds, my waterlogged ears pick up the sound of somebody clapping. I look up to find the man who’d hired me—the university’s aquatics director—standing to one side.

“You ever thought of joining the team, Paige?” he asks.

I blink in surprise. “You mean here? At the university?”

He barks a gruff laugh. “No, I mean at the Olympic stadium in Athens. Of course I mean here! Where else?”

“I never thought I was good enough.”

“Good enough? Girl, I’ve been watching you lap back and forth for the past hour without so much as slowing down or taking a breather. You’d give the best of our varsity girls a run for their money.”

I don’t know how to react. Me? On the swim team?
Here
?

“Who taught you to swim?” the director asks.

“You know, sir, I kind of… just taught myself. I mean, I had lessons once when I was a little girl, but past that? Swimming has always been a hobby, nothing more.”

The director looks at me flatly. “Come now. You think I was born yesterday?” His humor seeps away.

I blush a bit under his scrutinizing stare. “I’ve never had any coaching,” I say in a small voice. “Truly.”

The director squats down so he’s almost level with me. His forehead wrinkles as he frowns. I look up at him, starting to feel a little uncomfortable…

“Hot damn,” he says finally. “I actually think you’re telling the truth.”

I give a little shrug. “I don’t have any reason to lie.”

He beams and bounds up, clasping his hands together. “Wow. Wow! What a talent. You’ve got Olympian pedigree, kid. Wednesday morning. Six a.m. That’s when the varsity team meets. Show up, and if you do half of what you did here today, you’re guaranteed a spot. No questions asked.”

He turns and walks away, humming to himself. I’m left alone to grasp the significance of what just happened.

***

Swimming lessons come and go. I’m paired with a girl named Talia, a junior, who has been teaching here since she was a freshman. She shows me the ropes. Most of the kids we’re in charge of have never set foot in a pool before, so a lot of the first day is us trying to get them comfortable with the idea of a body of water deeper than their bathtub.