Everything would go back to normal tomorrow. He and Brynn would go back to normal, to their routine, to the friendship whose foundation couldn’t be rocked again. But he couldn’t shake the thought, the questions that kept gnawing at the back of his mind: What about twenty-seven-year-old Jamie? What did he need?
In that moment, Brynn let Jamie’s hand go. It fell to his side as he watched her stride away from him with an ease that punched him in the gut, and right into Spencer Matthews’s arms.
Chapter Three
“Brynn Chandler.”
He said her name like it was a revelation, like it was the answer to a question, and she really wanted to know what the question was.
“Spencer. Uh, hi.”
Not the most graceful response, but when he leaned in and brushed his lips against her cheek, she decided it was good enough.
Of course she had been thinking of this moment all day, if not all week. Oh hell, who was she kidding, she’d fantasized about it on and off for ten years. She was convinced so many things in her life would have gone differently if she had made it to that party senior year. For one thing, she would have kissed a beautiful boy, one who had grown into the gorgeous man standing in front of her. Instead she’d kissed Jamie, unexpectedly falling for the boy who put his health at risk—who missed the biggest party of the year—to take care of her. And then he’d broken her heart, not that she’d ever let on that she had fallen so hard, so fast. But, now, in front of her stood the answer. A do-over. If things went well tonight, then maybe what happened between her and Jamie could finally be laid to rest. Brynn let her eyes fall closed while Spencer’s lips brushed her skin, taking herself back ten years. This was how that night should have gone.
As she felt Spencer pull away, she opened her eyes again to his confident smile.
“I was hoping you’d be here tonight,” he said, and her head spun, dizzy with possibility—or perhaps the aftereffect of a recent shot of Jack.
“Here I am,” she said, then gave herself a mental eye roll. She needed another drink, fast, or else conversation would consist of Spencer speaking and Brynn doing no more than rephrasing his words.
“Here you are.” Then he smiled again as the sound of a throat clearing interrupted the awkward moment, reminding Brynn they weren’t alone. Not yet, at least.
She turned to see Jeremy holding out Spencer’s name tag. This jolted her memory, causing her to look behind her to where Jamie still stood behind the bar. She bit her lip and smiled at him, a holy-shit-this-is-really-happening smile, and Jamie smiled back. It wasn’t his real smile. She knew that. It was his I-kinda-hate-parties-but-will-only-do-this-for-you smile, and she made a mental note to thank him. Everything was on track, happening as it should, and she felt the tension release from her shoulders.
“Thanks,” Spencer said, grabbing the laminated replica of his senior picture from Jeremy. Other than his hair being a little longer, wavier and more sun-kissed, he looked exactly the same. He pulled the lanyard over his head and looked down to where Brynn’s rested on her chest.
“You look great,” Spencer said. “Stunning, actually.”
Brynn’s whole core burned, and she felt the heat rise to her cheeks, a kettle about to blow.
“Um, yeah…” she mumbled, the English language seeming to evaporate from existence.
“Sorry.” Spencer ran a hand through his hair, and she watched how the blond locks at his nape brushed the top of his collar. “That was maybe a little much. I just wasn’t expecting…” He paused, his eyes drinking her in from head to toe. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
Yeah. That decided it. There would be a kiss tonight, and come hell or high water, something after that kiss. It hadn’t just been a year since Brynn was in a relationship. It was also the last time she had been intimate with anyone other than something that required batteries, and frankly, as much as she adored the pulse setting, she had a feeling Spencer might have something better to offer.
“It’s okay,” she managed to say. “I guess I’m just not used to that word—stunning.”
Sure, she’d put a little extra effort into how she looked tonight, but it’s not like she was the antithesis of her everyday self. She’d been called cute, pretty, even beautiful by guys she’d dated. Then again, that was the job of the boyfriend, right? To see the beauty in his girlfriend. Holly calling her gorgeous didn’t count. It was a sisterly obligation. But Spencer was just—Spencer. He wasn’t her anything, yet he tossed out that word like it was the most natural thing for him to say.
He laughed then, like he didn’t believe her, and she wasn’t about to argue the situation even though she could do it and do it well.
No, really. No guy ever in the history of the world—or at least my existence in it—has called me stunning. I could probably get paperwork to back this up if you give me a business day or two.
She didn’t say any of that, not wanting to spoil the moment. Instead she tugged at the lanyard around her own neck, needing something to do with her hand.