Everything

XXV

Spencer wasn't waiting in the lobby like he'd said before.

Instead, when I exited the building through the spinning front doors, he was standing with a hand in one of his pockets, outside as the rain pounded against the pavement.

He wasn't wearing a suit as I'd expected, but instead brown lace-up shoes, light brown trousers, a white t-shirt and a chocolate brown leather jacket. His only shelter from the rain was provided by a large red umbrella that he carried in the hand not tucked inside his trouser pocket.

I made a quick hop, skip and jump out of the office and underneath the umbrella, careful not to get wet in the rain. But I hadn't been expecting what happened next.

Spencer wrapped an arm around my waist, dipping me low and kissing me hard, right there in the middle of the street, where commuters rushed by, ducking into cabs or the subway station and running down the street in search of shelter. But none of that mattered. Once Spencer's lips were on mine, it was easy to forget about the rest of the world.

God, how I loved this man.

I slowly pulled away, looking up at him, "Spence...right here?"

"I don't care anymore," he frowned, kissing me softly again, "I missed you today."

Reaching up, I smoothed the frown lines away from his eyebrows, "I missed you too, handsome. So much."

It was only then that a smile tugged at his mouth and his whole expression lifted, blue eyes glimmering from the street lights. There was no mention of our earlier phone conversation. It was just me and him. Here and now. The way it should've always been between us.

"So, Mr. Haywood," I smiled, getting up on my tiptoes to kiss him again, "Where are you taking me?"

*

We stuffed ourselves full with chicken and cheese empanadas, lots of rice and healthy helpings of sour cream and guac. 

Spencer knew I loved this restaurant. Simply the smell of the food cooking when we walked in through the door instantly transported me back to my abuela's kitchen. Memories of standing up on a stool to reach the kitchen counter so I could roll dough, or slowly dropping the chicken into the bubbling oil were fond, and as we tucked in and made conversation like always, I couldn't help but smile.

Before we'd entered the restaurant, Spencer had brought me a change of clothes for the car, like I'd asked him this morning. A loose white long-sleeved blouse tucked into white ripped skinny jeans. I'd teased him once again about dressing me in white, particularly in the rain and asked whether he wanted my clothes to be entirely see-through by the end of the evening. He'd blushed like a tomato and insisted that wasn't the reason.

As we walked to the car, hand in hand, it had stopped raining. But still, I couldn't take my eyes off Spencer and the way his wet hair flopped artfully over his forehead. He was gorgeous...and all mine. For as long as he'd have me for.

I couldn't help but feel unsettled though. Was Spencer really that insecure and angry about Mark showing up at the office? Or were his feelings directed towards me? We were having such a great evening, I didn't want to ask and spoil everything. But it was important to know. And he had to know that I wouldn't get back with my ex even if he were the last man on Earth.

The drive took us just under an hour, and at first, I hadn't a clue as to where Spencer was taking us. But as we whizzed through the streets of New York and towards the coast, I was immediately reminded of the time we had visited Coney Island in college.

"Are you taking me to the fair, Spence?" I asked, turning down the volume on the radio.

Spencer grinned widely, stroking his thumb over my knuckles, "You're observant. We're about 5 minutes away. You're okay with going?"