Everything

X

"We need to talk."

Spencer and I both said in unison in response to the words Spencer had just uttered.

We both laughed.

"Okay, so maybe we should relax a bit before we say whatever we need to say." Spencer grinned, shifting from one foot to the other, "Drink?"

"That's the best idea you've had all day, Haywood." I smiled as he already made his way over to the fridge.

"I'll get the glasses." I nodded, standing on my tiptoes to reach the wine glasses on the top shelf.

Spencer glanced over at me and laughed as I nearly lost balance trying to take hold of them.

"Hey!" I protested, folding my arms, "Everything's at six foot height in this place, it's not my fault I can't reach."

He gave me a friendly squeeze at my waist as he placed the bottle next to the glasses I had just retrieved, "I'll look into making some changes."

Of course he was joking - Spencer always made comments like that, just as if we were some kind of old married couple. It had always been in jest of course, but after what we shared, was it far too stupid of me to get my hopes up that he realised this was more than friendship now?

I decided not to dwell on it too much. After all, this morning in Spencer's office clearly showed me that he wasn't ready for anything other than friendship with me and casual sex with other women. Playing my hand now would be disastrous to say the least, even though Spencer's butt did look amazing in sportswear and there was something about him holding a glass of wine that screamed sophistication and sex appeal all in one delightful package.

When I looked up, Spencer was pouring the last remnants of the Bollinger into the two glasses. I took a sip almost immediately, the cool liquid bubbling on my tongue and sliding effortlessly down the column of my throat.

"Just as delicious as I remember." I smiled at him as he lazily meandered over towards his sofa, placing the glass of Bollinger on the table as he sat down.

"You know what would be even better Adriana?" he leant back on one arm.

"What's that?" I enquired, taking another sip of the frankly delicious wine and closing my eyes.

"A spot of light reading." he replied, causing me to giggle slightly.

"Reading? I'm always one for a book Spencer, but now?"

"It always cooled my temper when I was drunk at Columbia, remember?" he arched a dark eyebrow.

I smiled at the memory of an all too often inebriated Spencer Haywood who would sometimes get into raging fights with senior frat boys over kissing their women. They were pretty mad that a freshman could charm his way into the girls' good books, their mouths and even sometimes their panties. A montage of images, at that moment, crossed my mind. Dragging a drunk Spencer out across the courtyard and back to his dorm, throwing open the bathroom door and allowing him to retch into the toilet, rubbing his back and helping him take sips of water all the while, like his very own nurse. Then finally, tucking him into his bed covers with his childhood teddy bear and reading to him.

He would protest all the while, but as soon as I opened a book, he was like a little baby, lying there on his back, eyes all wide, listening to my every word. Salinger, Hemingway, Orwell, you name it, we read it - although admittedly, we both had a mutual loathing for anything written by Woolf.

"Oh I remember, alright," I grinned, "I'm surprised you still have the brain cells to recall those drunk freshman rendezvous'."

He rolled his eyes to the heavens, attempting to fight a smile, "Gatsby."