𝙎𝙔𝙇𝙑𝙄𝘼 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙉𝙀𝙇𝙇𝙔 never feels safe.
𝙎𝙋𝙀𝙉𝘾𝙀𝙍 𝙍𝙀𝙄𝘿 is beyond fixing.
They hate each other.
But what they didn't know
was that all along, the one
thing they both needed was
the other.
❝ the moment I laid my e...
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SYLVIA CONNELLY.
WHO WAS SPENCER TO THINK that he could get angry at Timothy like that, when it was clearly none of his business? And who was Timothy to think that he could ask me for money, even when I was letting him into my home for the thousandth time?
I was feeling okay earlier, but now I was angry at absolutely everything. I was tired, okay? I needed a break. I needed some alone time, and I sure as hell wasn't getting it with Timothy stuck to my side now.
Spencer was quiet the remainder of the car ride—I could tell he was just as angry as I was—I didn't know why, though. He used to be addicted to Dilaudid—though he rarely ever talked about it—so he out of all people should be sympathetic towards Timothy.
Dude was acting like he actually cared. Two years, I thought. Two years and he's finally looking my way, but just 'cause he has some kind of god complex.
But I was grateful anyways. Fake actions or not—he'd been stuck to my side running errands for me for the past two days. And this was the last one, and I'd probably never talk to him ever again. It made me a little sad though, when Spencer parked the car in front of my home. I watched him stare at it.
It was large—I had to admit—and I was proud so say that it was all bought by me. I didn't mooch off my parents money to get it—I worked for it. The only thing that sucked was that I lived alone. It was so big, and there was just me living inside of it.
I sighed softly, turning to Spencer abruptly. "Thank you." I said softly, my voice void of any hatred that lingered between us before.
Spencer glanced at me, his large hazel eyes going surprisingly soft, but I could see traces of slight anger and annoyance in them. But then, the corners of his lips turned up in the slightest, giving me a lazy smile.
My heart flipped upside down, and I quickly shoved the feeling away, mustering all of my power to not shyly divert my gaze from his intense one. Because I was really feeling shy and I hated it.
"Are you sure you'll be fine on your own?" He asked me. It was such a surprising question—and a caring one—that I almost gasped with happiness.
I slowly shook my head. "I'm all good. Thanks." I said quickly, ready to blast out of the car before I could start blushing in front of him. But Spencer's voice stopped me in my tracks, and I poked my head back in, glancing back to see Timothy impatiently tapping his foot on the concrete.
"Give me your number." Spencer said, his face blank.
My heart jumped in my chest, eyebrows dipping with confusion. "W-why?" I asked him, heat crawling up to my cheeks. I wasn't sure why I was blushing. I guess I was hoping his answer might be something cute and romantic—but instead, he plainly said:
