Paige
“Jesus, Paige. I had no idea it was this bad,” my brother says for the thirtieth time since he and Trevor picked me up a few hours ago. When I left the party, I was hell-bent on finding a bus back to Vermont. But when Jake and Trevor pulled up and told me Spence sent them, I climbed in the back of Jake’s car and we made our way back to the resort. I took a much-needed shower while the guys ordered food, and now we’re debriefing.
But I’m kind of done debriefing.
Jake, however, is not. I love him and I know he means well, but I need to stop having this conversation. The fact that he ordered me curly fries and a milkshake helps a little, but I just can’t rehash this anymore.
“Give her a break,” Trevor interjects, and I’m forever grateful.
“Sorry, P. I just—”
“You can’t believe it, I know. But that’s what they said, and you know they mean it. Sophie knew about it, so you know it’s been in the works for a while. But can we please talk about anything else? I’m a little done.”
He grabs a handful of my fries. “So, tell me more about the expression on Dr. Dickhead’s face when you doused him with wine. I need a play-by-play. Also, I’m a little salty you didn’t think to video the whole thing.”
I laugh, but then a thought occurs to me. “Oh, my god. You guys! Who’s telling Sophie that Dr. Dickhead is stepping out on her...at their freaking engagement party? I mean, I’m not surprised, but come on.”
“Not it!” Trevor calls, placing his finger on the tip of his nose. A second later, Jake follows suit.
“No. No!” I shake my head. “You can’t nose this. We are not in elementary school anymore, and this is a non-noseable offense.”
“Says the one who’s too slow to put her finger on her nose. Sorry, Paige, them’s the rules.” My asshole of a brother shrugs.
I give him my best scowl, and, like always, he relents, “Unless…”
I nod, and it’s just like old times as we all say in unison, “we make Nate do it.”
“There. That’s decided. Now, let’s talk about Spencer. What’s the deal? If he’s your boy, why didn’t he come with?” Trev asks, swiping a fry.
“He’s a hockey player and their season started last night,” Jake supplies before I can answer. “I vaguely remember him from hanging at the house last year. Briggsy’s, what? A sophomore? He went to the Blaze in the first round, I know that much.”
“Why do I always forget you’re a closet jock?” Trevor asks.
Jake rolls his eyes and gives Trevor a playful shove. “What can I say? I’m smart, I’m hot as fuck, and I’m well-rounded. I’m a goddamn catch,” my brother says with a laugh.
“Then why didn’t you bring a date?” I ask. “You know, since you’re such a catch and all.”
The air goes quiet for a minute and I feel like I’ve said the wrong thing? Maybe he just came off a bad relationship I didn’t know about? Whatever it is, Trevor seems to know all about it and steers me away from the subject.
“What he’s not saying is he’s a catch, but after a weekend, they all throw him back,” Trevor teases and we all laugh. The tension is gone, but I have a feeling I missed something.
Just then, there’s a knock at the door.
“Tell me you can read my mind and you ordered more fries,” Trev pleads, though none of us have been on our phones in a while. My battery died minutes after I got through to Spence, and the guys have been catching up with me for the last few hours.
Neither of them makes a move off the bed they’re both lounging on, so I hop off the little couch to answer the door.
And it’s not room service. Nope. It’s better than curly fries.
It’s Spencer.
Spencer
My heart rate slows back to normal when I see her in the doorway. She looks different than in the picture she sent earlier, but no less beautiful. Gone is the cocktail dress, replaced by grey joggers and a green Moo U sweatshirt that slips off one shoulder. And why her shoulders totally do it for me, I have no idea, but here we are. Her hair is up in a bun, and her makeup is gone. The only remaining article is a pair of long, beaded earrings. They should look totally out of place, but of course, Paige makes them work.
“Spencer?” she breathes my name, and I’m convinced I’ll never get tired of hearing my name on her lips.
“Hey.” I open my arms for a hug, but I stumble a step back when she leaps into my arms. I hold her tight for what feels like five minutes, but is probably less than one. She releases her arms and slides down my body, positively tiny in her bare feet.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, seeming genuinely surprised as she drags me into her hotel room. Not gonna lie, I’m tired as fuck, and a night in a hotel with Paige sounds like heaven. I know she wants to get back to Vermont, but I’m hoping we can catch a few hours of sleep before hitting the road again. And since we’re alone in a hotel, I’m betting we’ll do more than just sleep.
But then I see two guys sprawled out on one of the beds. One of them I recognize as her brother Jake, but I’ve never seen the blond man before. That’s got to be the guy I talked to earlier, who, I’m guessing, is Jake’s boyfriend.
“Briggsy, good to see you. This is Trevor.” Jake stands and reaches for my hand. I shake it, and then shake Trevor’s hand before taking a seat on the couch with Paige.
“We talked on the phone earlier,” Trevor says. “We’re old friends.”
“Listen, thanks for calling,” Jake says. “I didn’t even know Paige had left. We, uh, we were at the bar, and…”
Paige leans her head on my arm, though her attention is on Jake. “Yeah, that’s what I figured. God, I should have texted you guys, but I was angry and embarrassed and just…”
“You just needed your boy,” Trevor tells her, as though it makes perfect sense. “We get it, Princess P,” he says, coming to a stand and leaning down to give her a hug. “Sometimes you just need your person, no matter where they are or what else is going on. You just know that when they’re with you—on the phone or in person— things are a little bit better.”
I get the distinct feeling that he’s no longer talking about Paige and me, but I don’t have time to read anything deeper because Jake stands, too, and starts saying his goodbyes. “On that note, we’ll leave you two. I’ll crash in Trevor’s room, so you guys can have some time. Will we see you two at brunch tomorrow?”
I shake my head. “Probably not. I need to be back by noon, so…”
“No worries, I’ll let everybody know you had to head back early, but that you’re in good hands. And you should probably text Mom and Dad tomorrow, you know, once you cross state lines.”
“I love you guys,” she tells them, and after another round of hugs (my family is not this touchy-feely), they leave.
And here we are, alone in a hotel room. No one knows we’re here. There are no roommates to worry about, no lizards to feed, nothing. Just Paige and me and two very large beds. One, of course, is rumpled and strewn with the leftover remnants of food service.
The other one, however, is immaculate and waiting to be messed up.
Paige takes my hand and leans her head on my chest. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
I kiss the top of her head, inhaling the sweet scent that is inherently Paige. “Where else would I be?”
“Um, Vermont?” She looks up and smiles and a piece of my heart falls right back into place.
“Not a chance. You needed me. I’m glad you had your brother and his boyfriend, but…”
She shakes her head. “Oh, they’re not together. Jake’s been best friends with Trevor since the first grade.”
I’m not so sure she’s right about that, but I’m not having this conversation right now. Not when it’s past midnight, we need to leave in eight hours, and I still have no idea what caused her to be stuck in the rain at the bus shelter.
“My bad. But I’m glad they were here for you. Now, can you please fill me in on what happened tonight?”
She sighs and I can tell how tired she is. “Do you think we can save sad story time for the drive home?”
“Whatever you need.”
“I need to forget about tonight, if only for a little while. But I’m not quite ready to go to sleep just yet.”
“Hmmm, what could we do before going to sleep?” I ask, tapping my chin. Sex has never been playful for me, not until Paige. “We could watch a movie?”
She shakes her head and damn if her tits don’t jiggle just a little.
“We could play a game,” I look around the room, “give me five minutes and this place’ll look like a hockey rink.”
She smiles and shakes her head again. “I don’t want to play hockey.”
“Then what do you want to do, Paige?” I ask as I lift her onto my lap. She’s straddling me now, her legs spread across my thighs, her center right over my dick, which is hard as granite.
Quietly, leaning into the crook of my neck and biting lightly on the tender flesh of my ear, she says, “I want you to fuck me, Spencer.” Jesus. Who knew my ear was an erogenous zone, but a jolt of pleasure goes straight to my dick with every nip and lick.
My hands span her waist easily and I rock her gently back and forth. It’s not nearly enough, especially when there’s a king-sized bed mere feet away, but I can’t tear myself away from her, even for a moment.
While I’m transfixed by the feel of her breasts against my chest, her breath against my cheek, she’s still moving her sweet body on mine and whispering filthy things in my ear. Sweet Christ, how did I ever get so lucky?
“Do you want to fuck me, Spence? Do you want your dick inside me? Hmm? God, I want that. I want to feel you move inside me. I want your thick, uhhhh,” she moans and I grab her ass, “...cock inside me. I want to feel your balls when—”
Jesus. This show’s about to be over if she keeps talking. With little effort, except what it takes not to come in my pants, I grip her ass firmly and stand, walking us over to the bed. I toss her on it, not harshly, but just enough so she bounces lightly. “Strip,” I tell her, my voice rough and growly. I peel off my own clothes with no hesitation and then I look at her sprawled out in front of me. “Strip down to your underwear.”
“What if I’m not wearing any?” she asks.
“Fuck. Me.”
“That’s the plan.” She smiles as she kneels on the bed, stretching out to reach her arms around my neck.
We’re both naked now, and for once, I want to take my time. At school, we’re always rushing somewhere or tired from something and there’s noise everywhere. Not that our sex life isn’t more incredible than I could have imagined—it is. It’s just, I don’t know. Tonight feels stolen, in the very best way. I’m not supposed to be here. We can make some noise, bang a headboard. Fuck for three hours without someone’s alarm going off or a teammate barging into my room for tissues or deodorant.
“Pull back the covers, baby,”
She throws the probably gross standard-issue quilt on the floor and pulls back the sheets as I turn off the overhead light. We’re left with just the glow of the desk lamp, and I move to the windows to close the shade. I dig through my bag for a condom and roll it on. Grabbing my phone from the pocket of the joggers I tossed to the floor, I set five alarms and then crawl into bed next to her. I’m not waiting another minute to touch her.
She’s spread out on the soft, white sheets. Her hair paints the stark white pillowcase and I swear I could just look at her for days. But my girl is not known for her patience, so I don’t delay.
My hands roam over her belly and rib cage, feathering up over her breasts. Instinctively, she arches her neck and spreads her legs wide. Her body is calling out to mine, and I’m drawn to her.
“I need you,” I tell her. “Spending last night alone was fucking torture. But I want to take my time and worship every gorgeous inch of you. I think I’ll start...here,” I say, cupping her breast in my left hand and sucking her perfect pink nipple into my mouth. She writhes against me, threading her fingers through my hair, pulling at the strands until I turn my attention to her other breast.
My dick is so hard it hurts. Paige reaches between us to stroke me and I cry out—god, I can’t help it. “Fuck, baby, that feels so good.” I’m on top of her now, push-up style, and she wraps her legs around me, drawing me closer. I suck and lick at her breasts because I just can’t get enough of the way it makes her moan.
“I need you. I need you inside of me, Spence.”
I can’t deny her any longer and I enter her in one thrust, the heat of her body enveloping me, and holy hell. Her body is wet and warm and when I suck her nipple in my mouth again, then flick it hard with my tongue, she comes hard and her muscles convulse around my dick.
“Yes, holy...Spencer.” Her breath comes in pants and her pleasure is the only thing on my mind. I’m not worried about myself. I’ll get my rocks off, easy. Being inside Paige is fucking heaven. But I can wait. It’s such sweet torture.
“God, I love it when you come on my dick,” I tell her, leaning on my right arm as I move my left hand to the space between us. “Give me one more?”
She cries out when I touch her most sensitive skin. “Yes, fuck, yes.” Her words turn incoherent as I gently rub her clit with my thumb. Fuck. I can still feel her walls clenching around my dick and the sensations heighten as she chases another orgasm.
“Spence, I...oh….uhhhhh…” she mumbles and moans and the sounds go straight to my dick.
“Yeah? You want it? You want another, Paige? Fuck, I know you do. I can feel it.” I keep a steady rhythm as I push into her body with my hips and circle her clit with my thumb. “God...That’s it, baby, get there, fuck…” She grips the sheets tightly and cries out, triggering my release.
Hours later, we’re still tangled up in each other. She’s curled into my side, her head on my chest and her right leg wrapped around my left. We were talking, but then she started making no sense and drifting off, so I reached over to turn off the lamp, effectively making the room pitch black.
It’s so quiet, I swear I can hear the sound of her heartbeat. Or maybe that’s mine.
Palming my phone, I set five alarms for tomorrow morning. I can’t afford to be late, even to practice with Buddha and Goat.
Satisfied I’ll wake with no issues, I lay a kiss on her forehead and close my eyes. This isn’t where I imagined I’d fall asleep tonight, but I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.
Paige
“So let me get this straight. If you don’t get, what, a 160 on the test, they’re no longer paying your tuition?” Spence leans back in his seat, left hand on the steering wheel, right hand on my thigh. We’re making decent time on the interstate. We stopped to gas up and grab coffee and donuts a few miles ago, but we’re back on the road, and Spence wants to know what my meltdown was all about.
“Pretty much. My tuition is paid through the semester, but I could be on my own or up to my eyelashes in loans by January,” I say, twisting a wayward curl around my finger.
“Can you do it? Get a 160?”
“That’s the thing. I mean, I guess I’m not trying my best, so theoretically, yes. I’ve always been a pretty good test-taker. But I don’t want to take this test. And I really don’t want to go to law school. I can’t imagine a future where law school is remotely interesting or tied to anything I want to do.”
He taps his fingers absently. “Have you told them this?”
“Only about a hundred times, starting when I was about 6. At first, it was cute. I was the offbeat one. The proverbial “oops” kid who marched to the beat of her own drummer. But when I kept voicing my opposition through high school and my first two years of college, I was suddenly painted like the petulant, ungrateful one. I honestly think they believed I’d give in. I’m sure they still do. But I can’t imagine anything more mind-numbing than dedicating my life to the study and practice of something that doesn’t remotely interest me.”
I’m waiting for his criticism. I’m sure to some people, I sound like a spoiled brat. I mean, my parents pay for everything and all they want in return is for me to earn a law degree—which they’ll also pay for. How bad a deal is that? I know I’m more fortunate than a lot of people. A bunch of the girls on my floor are on financial aid or getting loans, and I can tell that’s super stressful.
“What does interest you?” he asks, instead of telling me I’m being a whiny little bitch.
“Makeup.” I laugh. “But I can’t make a career out of that. I mean some people do, but I’m 21. How long is my channel really going to last? And I make enough now for spending money and to keep myself in killer shoes, but could I buy a house? Raise a family?”
He turns to look at me, and Lord, if I haven’t stuck my foot in my mouth.
“Not now, of course. But… I don’t know. I—”
“Relax. I know what you mean. You’re trying to figure out how to keep a brood of gingers in killer shoes. That’s a lot of pressure, I get it,” he jokes.
He takes the exit off the interstate, and it won’t be long until we’re back in Burlington. We talk about everyday stuff—our classes, our roommates, the fact that it’s supposed to be downright balmy at 50 degrees tomorrow.
A buzz sounds on my phone, and I stare at it as though it could bite me.
“I take it that’s your parents?”
“Yeah,” I say, taking a breath and opening the text. I don’t want to read it—I just want to pretend none of this is happening and I’m the same clueless Paige I was yesterday. But sitting next to Spencer makes me feel braver, bolder.
I read the text.
Dad: Sorry you couldn’t stay for brunch. Jake said you took an earlier train because you had a study group to get back to. We were disappointed you missed breakfast, but we are glad you seem to be taking your education a little more seriously. There’s a lot riding on this test, and we hope you put forth your best effort. We know you’re capable, as long as you focus. But frankly, focus has never been your strong suit. You really need to buckle down over the next few weeks. We made our expectations clear last night. We’ll continue paying for your education so long as you earn a 160 on your upcoming LSATs and gain entrance to a reputable school. We’ll continue to check in with Justin about your progress. Have a good week and a productive study session tonight. Love- D&M
Wow, okay. I shouldn’t be surprised. I mean, it’s basically what they said to me last night, but all I can think in my head is ouch.
“Everything ok?” Spence turns to me a second, before returning his eyes to the road.
“Yeah, um. It’s fine.” I shrug and read him the text. “It’s nothing new, so why does it hurt all over again?” I say, blinking back tears.
He squeezes my thigh. “You know, babe, I never thought we had a lot in common.” His words alarm me. Yeah, he’s right, but this can’t be leading anywhere good, and I need more drama like I need electric blue mascara, which is to say, not at all.
“Yeah?” I say with hesitation.
“But it turns out, we both have daddy issues.”
I laugh, but he’s right. His dad is constantly blowing up his phone to talk hockey or to pick apart every piece of his game. And while my dad is not remotely that harsh, he’s totally blind to the fact that I don’t want any part of the future he has planned for me. Wow. What a pair we make.