"he stepped down, trying not to look long at her, as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking"
in which reader and spencer find out they have much more in common than a love for novels
summary of chapter 16: spencer calls you crying and upset. you go to his house, and he admits that his mom has been sick. you comfort him in the best way you know how.
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Spencer's curtains were tricky in that if you tried to open them even the tiniest bit, huge beams of light would stream into the room, painting the mahogany wood furniture a gentle brown.
And so you set to work, skillfully pulling the cloth back, trying to keep quiet as you let in the morning sun to greet you.
"If you're trying not to make noise, it's not working," Spencer murmured from behind you on the couch, his voice groggy and low from last night's sleep. You jumped, startled, and turned to face him. Boy wonder was awake.
"I didn't know you were up."
Was this the part where he shut off and pretended like last night was a mistake? Where he pretended like he hadn't called you at midnight and begged you to come over?
"Mhm, I'm up," he affirmed, sitting up from the couch and giving you a soft smile. Apparently not.
Spencer ran fingers through his tousled hair to comb out a tiny knot that had formed in the middle of the night, yawning as he did so. He stretched his arms high over his head, rubbed his eyes, and cracked his knuckles.
He looked pretty.
"Have you been to the grocery store lately? I could uh, make breakfast if you're not in too much of a hurry for me to get out of here," you offered.
"There's no hurry. I'll make something," he said, springing up and scampering over to you. It amazed you how much of a morning person he could be: how he could jump right into the day and get started.
"Good morning by the way," he said once he was close to you, letting his hand linger on your waist as he brushed past you to rummage through the pantry. His touch sent shocks through your body, and even after his hand left you replaced it with your own, trying to recreate the feeling.
"Cereal sound okay? I'd make you something substantial but I'm afraid I'd burn it," he admitted, grabbing a box of Cheerios and setting it on the counter.
"Breakfast of champions," you said, leaning against the counter and ignoring the uncomfortable way the edge dug into your skin.
"Does that not hurt your back?" Spencer asked, glancing at you while pouring cereal into two bowls.
