“The first time we met.”
He rolls over and hauls me into him, our bare skin colliding. He’s warmer than me, like a furnace, and I snuggle up close. Taking advantage of this moment, though it always feels like something bad is coming, just on the horizon.
I hate that feeling. Why can’t I ever just enjoy the moment?
“You dragged me into that shed and had your way with me,” he says against my temple.
I shove at his bare chest, marveling at how firm he is. “I was a year younger than you and you’re the one who corrupted me, getting me high for the first time.”
“And then you kissed me.”
“No.” I shake my head. “You’re the one who suggested we should kiss. That wasn’t my idea.”
“I remember it differently—”
“Nope, you’re wrong. It stuck with me, how you said earlier that I was the one who dragged you off somewhere, so we could make out, but the first time we kissed, it was all you.”
He’s quiet for a moment, his fingers sliding up and down my arm, making my skin tingle. This is so…nice. Just lying with him in my bed, talking. Sharing a moment about nothing serious.
“You’re right,” he finally says. “But after that first time, it was all you.”
I rest my head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart for a moment before I ask, “Why did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Get me high and kiss me.”
“I saw you sitting there by the tree and you looked so…sad. And bored. Bored out of your mind. I wanted to show you how to loosen up.”
“You were only fourteen.”
“And you were only thirteen.”
“You really wanted to show me how to loosen up?”
A sigh leaves him. “Fine. I wanted to get you alone, and I didn’t know how else to do it.”
I lift up on my elbow so I can stare down at him, shocked. “You did?”
He nods, reaching toward me, his fingers drifting across my cheek. “Pretty little blonde Sylvie Lancaster. You reminded me of a doll the first time I saw you.”
“A blow-up doll?”
Spencer chuckles. “No. One of those pretty little dolls kept on a shelf. Look but you can’t touch. That’s what I thought of when I first saw you. I can look, but no way can I touch. Whit told me I couldn’t.”
My mouth drops open. “What?”
“He warned me off you. Said I couldn’t come near you or he’d chop off my balls. I took the risk anyway. And once it happened, once you started to chase after me, he knew there wasn’t much he could do about it.”
I blink at him repeatedly, trying to process what he’s saying. “But we were so young.”
“And I was horny. All fourteen-year-olds are.”
“I was a baby.”
“A baby with sweet tits and big blue eyes who studied my every move. We were babies together, Syl.”
I think about that winter break when Spencer stayed the entire two weeks. The pretense of getting high together only happened twice. By the third time we found each other in an empty hallway of a forgotten wing of the house, he was yanking me into a dark corner, his mouth landing on mine easily. We kissed for what felt like hours, never coming up for breath until he was getting yet another text from Whit asking where he was.