“Jump!” he cries.
This isn’t even a song you can jump around to. It’s a ballad, and I begin to laugh so hard that I can hardly stand. He begins to dance like he’s crazy, jumping from side to side with his hands in the air like he’s at a rock concert. This is the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. I laugh so hard I have to rest my hands on my knees to hold myself up.
The song finishes, and we both clap with our hands in the air.
“Bravo, bravo.”
I laugh as I continue clapping.
“Brilliant, mate,” Spencer cries in excitement. “Best fucking song ever.”
Reg laughs and shakes his head at the lunatic in the bright green dinosaur cap. “You’re hectic, man.”
I’m laughing when Spencer drags me from the dance floor and signals to the door to the boys.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“We need to go home.” He turns and puts the dinosaur hat on my head. “That dream song made me horny.”
“You’re always horny.”
He turns and takes me into his arms. “I’m only horny for my dreamcatcher.”
I smile up at him and my heart swells. He could say the word potato and I would find it romantic.
“I love you.” He smiles down at me.
“I love you more.” I run my hands through his hair.
“Oh, Jesus,” Wyatt moans behind us.
“Dream catch me when I fall,” Spencer sings at the top of his voice. “Or else I won’t go home at all.” We stumble outside the front steps and Spencer raises his hand like he’s drawing a sword. “To the kebab shop!” he cries.
*
We’re waiting in the boarding lounge, and I’m staring at the beautiful man in front of me. He’s more dishevelled than I’ve ever seen him and hungover like nothing else. I’m dreading going home and back to reality. We’ve had the most beautiful weekend in paradise, and I want to stay here in our little love bubble.
Spencer rebooked the villas for two weeks over New Year’s. I can’t think of anything more perfect.
My phone begins to bounce around the table as it vibrates. The name Edward lights up the screen.
My stomach drops.
I stare at it as it rings for a moment, and Spencer frowns in question when he looks over at me. I know I can’t avoid this call for forever.
“Hello,” I answer.
“Where are you?” Edward growls.
I close my eyes, hearing the obvious anger in his voice. “Greece.”
“Get your fucking arse back to Nottingham now!”
He hangs up, and my heart constricts. I look over at Spencer with fear running through me. I swallow the lump in my throat.
They’ve seen the magazine story.
“I need to go home to Nottingham,” I whisper. “Tonight.”
18
Charlotte
“Who was that?”
“Edward.” I rearrange the napkin on my lap, trying to calm myself. “They’ve seen the story, I have to go home.”
“We’ll go this weekend,” he says flatly.
I frown. We?
“No, that’s okay, you can come up at the weekend to see me.” I pull my fingers through my hair, trying to sound casual. “I’m going to head back tonight.”
His eyes hold mine. “No.”
“What do you mean… no?”
“You’re not going on your own.”
“Spence,” I sigh. I need to go and see them alone first. I don’t need him coming in like a bull in a China shop. He’ll ruin everything.
“This is my mess, Charlotte. I’ll be the one to clean it up.”
“Spencer, I want to see them alone first.”
“That’s not happening.” He clenches his jaw and stares at me. “You stay in London and I’ll go alone.”
“What?” Has he gone mad? “You’re not going alone. We haven’t even discussed this.”
“We’re discussing it now. I go with you, or I go alone.” He stands, and without another word, he walks off to the bar.
I begin to hear my frantic heartbeat in my ears, what a mess. My worst nightmare is for him to go there and face them alone. He has no idea who he’s dealing with here. I just want to keep them apart so I can live in peaceful denial for the rest of my life.
Spencer orders two drinks and returns to the table. He hands me a glass of wine and I glance down at his.
Scotch. Gone are the cocktails and fun drinks, he’s back onto the hard stuff. I exhale heavily, unfortunately life is back to the hard stuff.
Spencer grabs the leg of my chair and pulls me closer to him. He rests his hand on my lap under the table, and I force a smile his way.
“I don’t want you to fight with them,” I whisper.
“I don’t want to fight with them, either.”
“I think it’s better if I see them alone first.”
He sips his scotch and then swirls it around in his glass. “And I told you the answer is no. I’m not leaving you alone to deal with this. The story is about me, let me defend myself. Why should you take all the heat alone?” He squeezes my thigh in reassurance. “Why wouldn’t you want me to deal with them?”
My eyes search his. “I’m terrified that they are going to scare you away,” I whisper.
He puts his drink down and takes my face in his hand. “Angel, I will not be forced from your life against my will. Not by anyone. You are the only person who can end what we have.”
“Promise?”
“I don’t need to, you already know it’s true.” He kisses me. “Don’t you?”
I smile softly, knowing he’s right. I do know he wouldn’t cower to Edward like everyone else.
Spencer Jones may be a lot of things, but a coward isn’t one of them.
“Do you love me?” he asks.
I nod.
“So, trust me. Tonight, we deal with your brother, whether he likes it or not.”
He makes it all seem so simple.
“Okay?” he asks.
I nod. “Okay.”
*
I’m freshly showered and dressed back in my sensible clothes—black Capri pants and a cream woollen jumper that sits off my shoulders. My hair is in a high ponytail, and I’m wearing black ballet flats. Gone are my sundresses from Santorini, along with any relaxation I had while I was there. My father and Edward have cut their trip short by two weeks to come home, and I know they mean business. Spencer is upstairs getting ready while I am sitting at the kitchen counter of his apartment, looking at the stories on my laptop.
The more I read, the sicker I feel.
Every tabloid has reported us over the weekend. There’s headline after headline about how the love rat Spencer Jones has struck again, how he will break my heart, how he is after my money, how there’s a huge Prescott family divide.
How he has been pursuing me for months. It’s complete rubbish. I didn’t even know him months ago.
I know my family will have read all these stories, and what hurts the most is the niggling little voice in my psyche screaming at me to listen to the warnings.
What if it’s all true?
It’s not. I know Spencer. I love Spencer.
This is what they do. They poison your thoughts with false stories.
My mind is in overdrive. I have no idea what’s going to happen tonight when I walk into my father’s house with Spencer in tow. I don’t know whether to call my father and pre-warn him, but then they’ll be ready and they’ll attack him with all guns blazing.
I’m confused what way is the right way to go about this. I still think it would be better if I went alone. But Spencer won’t allow it. What the heck happened in his office that day when he kicked Edward out, anyway? I want to know what was said, word for word. I pinch the bridge of my nose as I try to calm myself down.
“You ready?” Spencer asks.
I look up to see him dressed in a navy suit, white shirt, and a tie.
“You’re wearing a suit?” I ask.
He smooths his tie and shoves his hand into his pocket. “I feel more comfortable in a suit.”
My heart drops. What he means is that he feels more equipped to fight in a suit. “You said you didn’t want to fight with them?”
“And I don’t.”
“So why are you wearing a suit?”
“I’m not taking any shit tonight, Charlotte.”
“They’re my family, Spence.”
“I know that. But they need to know that you’re my future and you won’t be kept from me. I won’t stand for it.”
“Promise me you won’t fight with them.”
He picks up his keys. “Let’s go.”