Ainsley
I staredout of my bedroom window down into my next-door neighbor's backyard and watched as he walked behind his mower, cutting his lawn. I looked forward to every Saturday morning, because that was the day that Spencer would appear shirtless and do all his yard work. Spencer and his little girl, Nikki, had moved in almost a year ago now, and from the time I'd laid eyes on him, I'd wanted him. Problem was, he was a good twenty years older, divorced, and a father, and I had only turned twenty a few months ago. Not that any of that mattered, except for the fact that he was also my father's best friend.
"Still staring at your god?" Carly questioned.
"How did you guess?"
"Well, you were actually in mid-sentence, and you just stopped talking." Carly giggled. "That was the only logical reason I could come up with. Unless, of course, you were having a stroke."
I rolled my eyes. "I’m sorry, but how is it even possible that he can look just as sexy in grubby sweats, covered in sweat, as he does every weekday morning when he leaves for the office dressed to the nines in a suit and tie?" I questioned. "I mean, it doesn't help that the man is beautiful. Thick, dark hair I'd love to run my fingers through, blue eyes anyone with half a pulse could get lost in, 6'2" and a solid wall of pure muscle that I'd love to lay under. God, how I’d love to lay under him.” I grew quiet envisioning that image. “But in all seriousness, he looks dynamite dressed in a suit, and he looks just as amazing now."
"God, I know what the man looks like, Ainsley. His picture is plastered on every bus stop and major billboard all over the damn city." She sighed with irritation. The topic of Spencer Brooks had dominated every conversation we’d had for the past year.
"I think he makes the city look better. You can't honestly tell me that you don't agree?"
The phone was silent for a moment, and then I heard a huge sigh. "Is Spencer Brooks all we are going to talk about today?"
"I'm sorry...it's just..."
"It's just you're obsessed with an older man,” Carly bit out. “One who just happens to be the same age as your father, which is just gross. He's also, in case you've forgotten, your soon-to-be boss! Did you forget about that? It's seriously quite a predicament you've gotten yourself into."
I glanced out the window again, hoping to catch a glimpse of Spencer one more time, but he had disappeared, leaving the lawn mower in the middle of the yard. I frowned as I did a quick search around the back yard but couldn't see him anywhere.
“Well, it’s my predicament isn’t it,” I mumbled.
“You know, girl, I was thinking, Craig really likes you. Perhaps you should go for him. He will be there with us tonight. That is, if you are coming," Carly said.
"I'm...I'm not sure if I am going just yet," I mumbled, distracted by a voice coming from downstairs. I could hear my father speaking with someone and I strained to hear who it was.
"Come on, how do you not know yet? It's Jon's birthday. He is really looking forward to partying, and I don't think I need to remind you that you did, in fact, promise him you would be there the other day when we had coffee together! You can't back out now."
I heard a rumble of laughter from downstairs, followed by our neighbor's deep voice. A surge of excitement ran through me.
"How about I call you back in five. He's here," I sighed into the phone.
"Who's there? Ainsley, come on. I'm trying to get final numbers for reservations, that is why I called you over a half hour ago, not to talk about Spencer. I just need to know if you are in or out."
"The one, the only, Spencer Brooks," I whispered, ignoring what she had asked me. I heard Carly groan her displeasure into the phone as I opened my bedroom door a little farther just to catch the sound of his deep, sexy voice. I was sure she was tired of listening to me go on and on about Spencer, but I couldn't help myself.
"Girl, you've got it bad. Seriously, I think you should go for Craig. If not him then perhaps someone at school has turned your head."
"The guys at school are dull," I whined. "None of them are mature like Spencer." Another burst of laughter came from downstairs, catching my attention, followed by his deep, sexy voice that gave me chills.
“Spencer should be mature he owns his own company and has a daughter.”
"I'll call you back in ten minutes. Oh, and Craig isn't my type," I said.
"Ainsley, he's the captain of your university football team. How the hell is that not your type? He's almost six feet, with dark hair and blue eyes and what was it...a wall of pure muscle." Carly giggled. "Sounds exactly like a younger Spencer."
"You are impossible. I'll call you back."
"Oh, Ains...come on. I just need a yes or no. The reservations—"
"Got to go," I whispered, cutting her off and hanging up the phone. I wandered over to my dresser, checking out my reflection in the mirror and fluffing my hair. I pulled my bulky sweatshirt over my head and smiled as I looked at myself in my fitted tank top and jean shorts. That's much better, I thought to myself. I grabbed my glass from my desk, opened my bedroom door, and headed down toward the kitchen.
I stopped in the hallway just outside the kitchen door and took a deep breath. I needed to gather myself before I walked into that kitchen.
"Spencer, what you really need is a hot twenty-year-old to fuck the shit out of," I heard my father say.