Prince Charmings (BOOK ONE)

32

Spencer's house was a two-storey surrounded by an oak fence.

Sat on top of the mailbox was an ageing grey cat that glared at me as I tried to figure out how the gate worked. His Toyota was the only car parked in the driveway and few lights were on in the house, though the entire front porch was lit by candle filled lanterns. When the gate finally creaked open I slipped inside, not bothering to pull it shut behind me. The cat followed, seemingly amused by the nervous way I was wringing my wrists as I tried to figure out what the hell I was going to say to Spencer. We hadn't spoken, at all, since our goodbye in the deli. 

No calls. 

No texts. 

Nothing.

I was sure it was the longest we had gone without any form of communication and now I was a wreck trying to work out what I could and could not say to the guy.

Did I hug him when he opened the door?

Or just give him a simple hello in greeting?

Did I stay fully silent, let him make the first move?

Was I supposed to sweep the guy into my arms?

Confess my undying affections?

Jesus, I was starting to sound like April. 

Shaking it off I stepped onto the porch, eyes sweeping along the open space. A rocking chair was tucked to one corner, seat covered by a well-loved cat bed, and flowers wove around the porch's railing. I plucked one of them, a short yellow thing I didn't know the name of, and rolled it between my fingers. The petals ruptured immediately, dropping to the ground and I threw away the remaining stem when I realized its pollen stained. Dragging my hand down my sweats I groaned when the color sunk into the grey fabric but still hadn't come clean from my skin.

"I was going to wait to open the door until after you'd pulled yourself together, but that doesn't look like it will be happening anytime soon," Spencer called and I looked up, finding the front door wide open. I hadn't even heard it and blushed at his words, straightening up.

"Hey," I settled on, shoving my hands into my pockets and Spencer just cocked his head back. The glass on his nose tipped at the movement and I was a little startled by my first impulse to be wanting to right them again.

"Get inside before you wreck anything else," he said, stepping back to make enough space for me to get past. I snapped back to myself, fighting to keep my hands to my sides, and walked into the house. The living room was spacious, couches flooded with cushions, and covered in a carpet that all but swallowed my feet whole. I jumped when his cat brushed past me and made itself at home on the first step on the staircase leading upstairs.

"What's with people in this town and pillows," I mumbled and Spencer threw me a look that read confused, shutting the door behind him. The lock clicked on by itself and I fisted my hands, not entirely sure what to do. Whatever stressed out plan I'd made in my head leading up to seeing Spencer again had been blown out the water. Spencer had spoken first, offered no physical contact, and admitted to seeing me make an ass of myself. On top of that, the first thing I said after entering his house was that he had too many pillows. 

God, I needed to get my shit together and then some.

"You drink coffee?" Spencer asked, walking into an adjoining room my genius mind worked out to be the kitchen. I trailed behind him, not sure what else to do but not trusting myself alone in his living room. There was a glass vase sat on the fire place mantel just waiting for me to knock it over and officially end any chance I had with Spencer.