𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | ✓

64

"Oh my God, what are you doing here?" I step back.

He brushes his fingers through his hair, ruffling it slightly to get rid of the snow. "Hi to you too." His gaze meets mine and he offers me an impish grin pushing his glasses up his nose.

Spencer holds up a plastic bag I hadn't noticed in his hand before. "My mom strongly believed, the way you start your new year is the way that year will mostly be like. And spending an entire year being sad, just because you didn't have ice cream for one night didn't seem right."

I blink a few times and a disbelieved laugh stumbles out of me. "Are you serious? But how? Everywhere is closed."

He shrugs and holds out the ice cream tub for me.

"For me?" I squeal and he rolls his eyes.

"No, actually the ghosts in your house gave me a call, demanding it."

The initial surprise fades, giving place to excitement. I giggle getting the tub from him. "Thank you," I say in a singsong voice.

A grin breaks across his face as he watches me with an unreadable expression. He takes a step back, pushing his hands into the pockets of his coat. "Well-" he starts.

I frown, my smile faltering. "You're leaving?" I fail to hide the disappointment.

"Yeah," he replies with hesitance.

"Do you have to be somewhere?"

"Not really, I was going back to my place."

"Will you stay?" I softly ask, holding his gaze. He opens his mouth, ready to object and I put on my most convincing puppy dog eyes and add, "Please."

He stares at me hard; I can practically see the engines turning in his head. After a long moment, he sighs, "Okay."

I grin as he enters my apartment.

"Where did you find this from?" I shut the door behind him as he moves to remove his black coat, revealing the collar of a white button-up shirt under a black sweater.

I glance at my clothes, a pair of grey sweatpants, with tiny reindeers all over them along with a light pink shirt. Compared to him, I'm absurdly underdressed.

"You could have given me a heads up, I look like shit," I mutter as I walk to the kitchen.

He laughs as he hangs his coat and turns to me. "You look great for a night of movie binging."

I roll my eyes and take out the tub from the plastic bag and my eyes widen again. "Is this from..." my voice trails down as I turn the tub and just as expected, I see one of the most famous chef's initials and the hotel he works in at the bottom of it and my mouth hangs open.

"It was a block away from my place... he owed me a favor, so it wasn't that hard to snatch that."

"Wow," I mumble. The sweetness of his act swells my heart, warmth washes over me in pleasant and unexpected waves. I can't chase away the grin. "He's one of my favorite chefs... I used to go to that hotel quite often." I move around the kitchen picking two spoons. "Do you want a bowl or something? I'm going to eat it right away if you don't want us to eat from the same place."

He shakes his head and pushes his hands into his pockets. "No, thanks, I don't want any."

I snort. "Don't worry, even if you put on a few pounds, you'd still look better than the rest of the professors." I walk to the couch and he chuckles, following behind me.

"Is that so?"

I hum and flump down on the sofa, pulling the blanket away, he sits next to me. "Why are you so much younger than the rest? Why did you get your Ph.D. so fast?" I ask as I open the lid.