Page 7 of In Too Deep

“Wait! What are you doing?” Spencer splutters, the first to recover.

I pull my well-worn carry-on suitcase from its place and look back at him. “Packing.”

You would have thought those guys just won the Stanley Cup from their responding shouts of excitement.

It’d taken ten minutes flat for me to pack everything I thought I’d need, including fishing my gifts for the boys out of the depths of their hiding spot and packing them without anyone seeing. A hop, skip, and a plane jump later, Oliver is at the wheel of an open-topped Jeep, racing down the winding road from the airport to where we’re staying. The sun is just starting to come up, giving everything a lilac-tinted mystery. I’m exhausted, having been up for nearly twenty-four hours straight by now, but there’s a buzzing beneath my skin.

The Jeep pulls into the circle driveway in front of a small, white-washed building. It’s only one story, with a terracotta roof and a few windows on either side of the centrally placed front door. When Oli cuts the engine, silence settles over us,and I release a breath. There’s the not-so-distant crash of waves against the shore, the cawing of gulls just waking up, and some crickets still humming away as the sun rises behind us. My eyes scan the surroundings, but tall shrubs on either side of the building effectively shield us from any spying eyes.

“We picked this place because of their privacy guarantee. We aren’t the first high-profile clients they’ve had, and their discretion is top tier,” Eli tells me softly, jumping down and holding out a hand for me to take.

I place my palm in his, amazed as always by the sheer amount of heat Eli radiates at all times. He’s still in the same joggers and t-shirt he wore to pick me up, but I can see the slightest glisten of sweat along his forehead. Even though we’re in the middle of winter, you wouldn’t know it by the balmy stillness around us. Eli threads his fingers through mine, and I can’t help the swoop in my stomach as I realize how perfectly our hands fit together. Oli and Spencer unload our luggage, following Eli as he leads me toward the arched front door.

As we cross the threshold, I gasp, taking in the wide, airy space. The entryway is just wide enough for a closet before it opens into an open-plan living room, dining room, and kitchen combo. But the wall directly across from the entry is made almost entirely of glass, with massive sliding doors that lead to the covered patio and infinity pool. Just beyond that is the vastness of the Caribbean Sea. The sound of waves is muffled again now that we’re in the house, but the smell of salt coats everything. There are two doors to either side of the living room, leading to the wings of the villa, which extend out toward the ocean to form a protective horseshoe around the pool and patio. Eli drops my hand to help bring in the last of the luggage.

“This is better than the pictures,” Oli comments. Pacing into the living room, he nods approvingly at the modern furniture mixed with beachy touches.

I open my mouth to agree, but stop short as I let out a massive yawn. The lack of sleep is catching up to me, and I sway on my feet. Someone steps up and puts a gentle hand on my back, guiding me off to the left and through the door. When I open my eyes, I realize it’s Spencer at my side. On the other side is a short hallway and a set of double doors, a sitting area in front of a dividing wall, with a massive bed positioned perfectly to face the ocean for what I can only imagine will be an incredible view of the sunset.

“Get some rest, sugar. Then we can let the relaxation begin,” Spencer says, stepping in closer for a moment.

“Where are y’all going to sleep?” I ask as I rub my eyes, even as I stare a hole through the mattress.

“There’s another bedroom, and the couch looks particularly comfy.” He chuckles ironically.

I look around, trying to picture Spencer’s massive frame sprawled out on one of the plush couches in my sitting room, or the narrow cushions of the sectional in the living room. Something in my gut sinks at the thought of him being uncomfortable after doing all of this for me. But he probably wants his space. Or maybe lack of sleep is making me consider an alternative, though he probably wouldn’t go for it.

“That’s not... You can...” Shifting from one foot to another, I look anywhere but at Spencer.

He hums his confusion, and my face goes hot. I sigh and rub my face again, bracing myself for the rejection.

“Youcansleepinherewithmeifyouwant,” I spit out, the words mushing together before I lose my nerve.

There’s a very pregnant pause, at least two waves crashing as I wait for his answer. He’s going to say no. I’m rushing things, and we agreed to take things slow, to figure out how we want to proceed as a unit.

“Uh, yeah. Sure. If you want that, then yeah. Should we — Not that I’m rushing you into bed or anything, and not that sort of rushing you into bed, but if you’re ready to sleep, we can go,” Spencer replies, sounding just as nervous as I feel.

I shift my gaze towards him, the pre-dawn world slowing as our eyes meet. There’s precious vulnerability with the way Spencer looks at me. Like he wants this so badly but is terrified to mess it up or do something wrong. There’s no spark of lust in his ocean eyes, just innocent wonder. Like he can’t believe his luck. And that expression has me softening and my fears fading.

Spencer ducks away for a moment before returning with my suitcases and his, and there’s a surreal edge to the next few minutes as we get ourselves comfortable for bed. Like we’ve been doing this for years, and we know the drill. And it doesn’t take too long before I’m tucking myself under the covers on the left side of the bed, and Spencer is sliding in beside me. There’s enough space that the blankets form a valley over the no-man’s-land between us as we lie on our backs, staring up at the exposed beams of the ceiling.

Then, very tentatively, the mattress shifts, and Spencer’s pinky finger brushes against mine, testing the waters. I don’t pull away, holding my breath as he threads his fingers through mine and squeezes. We stay like that for what feels like an hour, the waves rocking me slowly, my eyelids too heavy to hold up anymore.

“Sleep tight, sugar. I’ve got you,” Spencer breathes, so soft I swear I must dream it.

Before I can unpack that loaded sentence, a crashing wave drags me under into unconsciousness at last.

Spencer leads Tori offtoward one of the two bedrooms, and I sigh. Even though we’re here, I still can’t believe Tori agreed to this. Oli almost talked me out of this plan more than once, but I’m glad I stuck to my guns. We need time and space, and we were never going to get it if we stayed in New Orleans.

Quick steps pull my attention back to the door, and Spencer comes rushing out, grinning like a madman.

“Tori’s letting me stay with her tonight,” he tells us breathlessly, barely pausing as he shuffles around our suitcases until he finds his and Tori’s.

“Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do,” Oli says with a dark chuckle.

I turn towards my partner, the man I’ve been in love with for over three years, someone I can read from a mile away, but I’m finding myself puzzled by his expression. We’re all tired, having been up for most of the last thirty-six hours. But the wearinessI’d seen on Oliver’s face seems to vanish in an instant, his amber eyes practically glowing in the dark.

Spencer doesn’t acknowledge the innuendo, and I’m not entirely convinced he even heard anything as he exits the room almost as fast as he entered it, the wheels of two suitcases clacking on the grout lines of the tiled floor. Oli pauses for a moment before looking at me, his hands going into his pockets.

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