“Says the woman who takes care of her entire family,” he said.
She pointed at him. “Touché. I like him, by the way. A lot. Is he a secret?”
“No,” Spence said. “I just . . .” He shook his head. “I guess I feel like I’ve failed him by not getting him off the street.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Do you want to know why I love your grandpa so much? Because we’re kindred spirits. Like him, I always truly believed I’d be happier alone. It was actually a huge fantasy of mine all my life. When I was growing up, all I wanted was to not live with two brothers and my mom in that teeny, tiny one-bedroom, one-bathroom hovel we grew up in, where I never had a single inch of space to myself. Being alone has always sounded like heaven, just me and my computer and my imagination. But this trip . . .” She shook her head. “I had it all wrong, Spence.”
He ran a finger along her temple, tucking a loose strand of hair back from her face. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Stepping into him, she ran a hand up his chest. “And you’ve got a lot to do with that. I learned some things from you.”
He pulled her into him and nuzzled his face in the crook of her neck. “I learned something too,” he admitted. “Something I didn’t see coming.”
She slid her hands into his hair. “What’s that?”
It took him a moment to find the right words. “For most of my life,” he finally said, “I wanted to change my grandpa. Make him . . . I don’t know, normal, I guess. Then when I bought this place and coerced him into moving here, I expected him to take an apartment. I had no idea how to help him, how to keep him safe. I just did the best I could. And in the end, he’s the one who helped me. He taught me acceptance.”
“Acceptance?”
“Letting people be who they need to be,” he said. “Including myself.”
She nodded. “I like that. I’ve always micromanaged my mom and siblings, setting up their lives how I thought best. They let me but . . . I haven’t done them any favors.”
“It’s never too late to change.”
She met his gaze, hers open and sincere, and nodded. “Why don’t you have any Christmas decorations?”
The abrupt subject change reminded him that she was pretty toasted. “I do,” he said. “You just can’t see them because you’re stoned.”
She laughed. “You’re funny. Hey, do you have food?”
“I have anything you want.”
Her eyes were big and luminous. “Anything?” she asked, whispered really, looking very intrigued.
He smiled. “Are we playing?”
She bit her lower lip.
Yeah. They were playing.
“I need to get ready to feed you. But I need a shower first.” She sidled up to his front, giving him a very inviting smile, her eyes seeming to strip him naked.
Which he was totally okay with.
She ran her hands up his chest and around the back of his neck, lightly scraping her fingernails up into his hair, giving him goose bumps, among other things.
“Can I use your gym shower?” she asked. “Or am I allowed in your personal space now that you’ve had your merry way with me? Many times over now . . .” She brushed her mouth across his earlobe, laughing softly in his ear when he tightened his grip on her hips.
And then suddenly she had like eight hands and they were everywhere. “Colbie—”
“Colbie,” she said, mimicking his lower tone. “You sound very serious now, Spence. Have I been bad? Am I in trouble?”
Jesus. He nudged—maybe pushed—her into his bedroom.
“Ooh, the man cave,” she purred.
—And then into his bathroom. He gave her another nudge toward the shower and tried to step out.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“To order food.”
“What kind of food?”
“All the food,” he said. “Unless you have a preference. What are you hungry for?”
She smiled a man-eating smile and he groaned.
And got harder.
He pointed at her. “Behave.” And then he left the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He leaned back against it and swiped his forehead. “I’m fucked.”
“Yes. I’m pretty sure that’s her plan.”
Spence turned his head and found Caleb standing there, eating out of another Tupperware that Spence knew damn well had come from his fridge. “What the hell?”
Caleb shoved in a bite of what looked like Trudy’s famous chicken enchiladas and groaned in pleasure. “Turns out that Colbie’s not the only one who’s hungry.”
“How long have you been here?” Spence demanded.
“Since before you. Neither of you even noticed me. And why are you standing here griping at me for eating your food instead of getting into the shower with the Stoned One? She’s hot.”
Spence opened his front door and jerked his chin toward it.
Caleb blew out a breath. “Fine. But I’m taking the enchiladas with me.” He turned back. “And you’re an idiot if you don’t go take what that woman is offering you.”
Spence shut the door on Caleb’s nosy nose just as Colbie came out of his bathroom. She was wearing the bathrobe his mom had bought him a couple of Christmases ago that he’d never worn—and bright blue toenail polish. That was it. He watched with a mix of lust and wry amusement as she sauntered straight to his pantry and helped herself to not one but three bags of chips.
She hopped up on the counter, opened all three bags, and began a smorgasbord, stuffing her face for a few solid minutes before going still, a handful of chips paused in the air halfway to her mouth. “I think I’m a little stoned.”
He smiled. “You think?”
“No, I mean . . .” She shook her head. “I was sure I wasn’t. I didn’t feel anything.”
“Honey, you’re about as high as my drone can fly, which is nearly out of the stratosphere.”
She ate a few more chips, closing her eyes and groaning. “Oh. My. God. Where have . . .?” She straightened out one of the bags and read the label. “Salt and vinegar. Where have salt and vinegar chips been hiding my whole life?”
Spence took a bottle of water from the fridge, removed the top, and handed it over to her.
She downed it and then went back to the chips. “You don’t by any chance have any dip, do you?”
“No. But . . .” Spence pulled out a stack of takeout menus and handed them to her. “Take your pick and I’ll order.”
She tossed the menus aside and grabbed him by the shirt and hauled him in close. “I want to order you. You smell so good, Spence. You always smell so good.”
He planted a hand on either side of her hips to keep an arm’s length between them, but she had a good grip on his shirt with one hand, her other placed precariously low on his abs. Wrapping her legs around his waist to further trap him, she crossed her ankles at the small of his back.
“Colbie.” He both laughed and groaned. “You said you’re hungry.”
“Yes, but not for food.” She pressed her face against his throat and inhaled him like he was a ten-course meal.
His entire body went on high alert, sensing action within its grasp. He slid his hands up her arms to take ahold of her wrists, bringing them down to her sides.
“Mmmm,” she said, taking a lick of him as she wriggled. “I don’t remember feeling this . . . trembly with anyone else. You’d think I’d remember, right? I mean, sex is always nice and all, but this, with you, it feels a lot more than nice.” She lifted her head, her eyes guileless and a little worried. “Do you know what I mean?”
He did, although he felt like he was eavesdropping on her personal thoughts, letting her tell him things like that when she was under the influence. “Colbie—”
“Uh-oh,” she said. “You don’t know what I mean. Well, that’s embarrassing.” She tried to shift away but he caught her.
“No, I do,” he said. He knew exactly. “But, Colbie—”