pretty little liar // brad simpson

six

BRAD

My lips met hers, and it was like I'd waited every second since I'd met her to feel it. One of her hand touched my upper arm gently, and I lowered myself down over her, letting our lips meet over and over again softly and yet feverishly.

Spencer moved her hand from my arm to my hair, and I moved to rest on my elbows instead, one hand moving to touch high on her waist, careful to keep my hands where they ought to be. She licked her lips, lifting her head so she could kiss me again, and it felt like my heart had fallen into the pit of my stomach, where it fluttered erratically.

"Braddy boy! What're you doing - op!" 

It was as if I should have lunged back, but instead I let every part of myself ignore the voice as I slowly pulled away from Spencer's lips, opening my eyes to see her blue ones already facing the door - or rather, the boys in the door. I rolled back onto my arm, facing James, Tristan, and Connor in the doorway.

"Ah, hello Spencer." Tristan nodded uncomfortably, glancing back at me awkwardly.

"Uh, lads - this is Spencer. Spencer, that's James, Connor, and I suppose you know Tristan." I introduced confusedly, watching her prop herself up and move to tuck her legs beneath herself, raising a hand in a wave.

She nodded, and I could visibly see her face changing into a look of guarded insecurity at these new faces she didn't quite seem to know. "Hello, I'm Spencer. Nice to see you again, Tristan." Spencer nodded back. She glanced at me and said in a slightly faint voice, "Tristan and I met at the event the other day, didn't we?"

Tristan nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Sorry to interrupt," Connor chuckled, rocking back and forth on his heels. "And for, erm, sticking around. We'll be off, then." He added, bobbing his head. "See you two downstairs in ten minutes to figure out lunch?"

I nodded, waving a hand at them. James was the last out, and he sent an apologetic look our way as he quietly pulled the door shut. Once the last footstep had retreated down the stairs, I turned back to Spencer. "Sorry about them. They can be like that."

"They're your friends, you haven't got to say anything bad about them because they did what friends tend to do." She shrugged, her eyes sliding over each and every one of my features. "Tristan was flirting with me at the event. I didn't egg it on, but I didn't know what to do, so I didn't shut him down either."

"Splendid," I groaned, running a hand through my hair. I wished so heavily that I could undo the last two minutes so I could rewind my whole life back to the moment when I kissed her - I'd trade all of it out, every moment and memory to keep that sensation forever. But instead, I settled for looking at her soft features as I felt the weight of the world holding my body to the bed, knowing that the moment was over.

And knowing Spencer, that may be the first and only time I'd ever feel like that. Tomorrow she'd be cold as an ice statue, and I'd wait a week before she opened up even for an afternoon again. I let a breath out and moved to sit up to leave down the stairs, but Spencer's hand caught my arm and halted me.

I turned, and Spencer leaned towards me slowly, putting her hand against my cheek and putting her lips against my own. She pushed against me, and I kissed her back. It wasn't the same sensation, but it was new and delightful, and I swore as I felt something like water flood my whole body, that I'd kill the bloke who next came in the door.

I pulled her close, my hands holding her waist, and she lay down over me, kissing me softly over and over and over again, and I wondered if I opened my eyes would the world still exist, and would I have noticed the earth stop spinning when she was kissing me? Spencer's kisses slowed, and finally she slid her upper lip over mine as she pulled away, watching my eyes as she slowly sat back, tugging her cardigan over her shoulders.

"Lunch?" She asked, tilting her head to the side slightly as she pushed her hair away from her face. 

I sat up, shoving my hair back carelessly, opening my mouth to respond but feeling like my lungs had gone dry as a desert. Instead I nodded, getting to my feet and walking to the door, which I pulled open and waited for Spencer to get up and join me. She walked over slowly, glancing at me as she passed.

I couldn't help myself. My hand wrapped around her wrist, and I guided her hair over her shoulder, kissing the side of her neck faintly from below her jaw to the edge of her cardigan. Then - because I knew I never wanted to stop kissing her, and I knew I had to pull back before I jumped from the cliff - I stepped and pulled the door shut, walking towards the stairs.

At the top step, I turned, finding Spencer a few steps behind, her hands resting on my shoulders as she leaned down, kissing me back like she was too standing at the edge of the rockiest, jagged mountain on the earth. But then she was gone, walking on my left as we took the stairs down slowly, the wall falling away at the next step and transitioning into railing that fell at mid-hip to the steps disappearing beneath us.

I turned, trapping Spencer against the wall before we moved into the view of my friends, and kissed her again, my lips firmer than before, and my chest pounding so fast I might've imploded if she'd kissed me back and more. Spencer hungrily accepted my lips, and then turned her head to the side, letting my lips press into her cheek before I pulled away, my hand grazing her hip as I turned and jogged down the stairs, her hot on my heels.

"What're you boys hungry for?" I called, rounding the bottom of the stairs. Turning, I held my hand out for Spencer to take. She stared blankly at my awaiting hand, then at me, and then gently brushed past, waiting for me to follow behind her into the kitchen.

My stomach fell, and I knew that was it. I knew that whatever I'd felt, whatever it was that I'd been feeling - I'd never know if she was feeling it, too. Spencer was like a puzzle, but one that had a few pieces missing, and a few pieces from the wrong puzzle mixed in. I'd never be able to put all the bits and pieces together and see the right image. I'd just wind up with the puzzle, thinking I knew what it was I was looking at, and then the pieces replaced would turn out to be the most detrimental parts of the story.

Spencer was gone, even as she stood beside me in the kitchen and listened to the boys decide on where we ought to pick up lunch from. She'd kissed me like it was all she wanted to do for the rest of her days, and then she'd brushed past as if she wanted nothing more than to be away from me. And I knew, just as I should have known the whole time it was happening, that she would do this.

And yet I'd fooled myself into thinking she felt how I felt when we kissed.

And I hoped I'd fooled myself into thinking something of what I'd felt, too.