Page 131 of Goalkeeper
Neither of them makes a move off the bed they’re both lounging on, so I hop off the little couch to answer the door.
And it’s not room service. Nope. It’s better than curly fries.
It’s Spencer.
Spencer
My heart rate slows back to normal when I see her in the doorway. She looks different than in the picture she sent earlier, but no less beautiful. Gone is the cocktail dress, replaced by grey joggers and a green Moo U sweatshirt that slips off one shoulder. And why her shoulders totally do it for me, I have no idea, but here we are. Her hair is up in a bun, and her makeup is gone. The only remaining article is a pair of long, beaded earrings. They should look totally out of place, but of course, Paige makes them work.
“Spencer?” she breathes my name, and I’m convinced I’ll never get tired of hearing my name on her lips.
“Hey.” I open my arms for a hug, but I stumble a step back when she leaps into my arms. I hold her tight for what feels like five minutes, but is probably less than one. She releases her arms and slides down my body, positively tiny in her bare feet.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, seeming genuinely surprised as she drags me into her hotel room. Not gonna lie, I’m tired as fuck, and a night in a hotel with Paige sounds like heaven. I know she wants to get back to Vermont, but I’m hoping we can catch a few hours of sleep before hitting the road again. And since we’re alone in a hotel, I’m betting we’ll do more than just sleep.
But then I see two guys sprawled out on one of the beds. One of them I recognize as her brother Jake, but I’ve never seen the blond man before. That’s got to be the guy I talked to earlier, who, I’m guessing, is Jake’s boyfriend.
“Briggsy, good to see you. This is Trevor.” Jake stands and reaches for my hand. I shake it, and then shake Trevor’s hand before taking a seat on the couch with Paige.
“We talked on the phone earlier,” Trevor says. “We’re old friends.”
“Listen, thanks for calling,” Jake says. “I didn’t even know Paige had left. We, uh, we were at the bar, and…”
Paige leans her head on my arm, though her attention is on Jake. “Yeah, that’s what I figured. God, I should have texted you guys, but I was angry and embarrassed and just…”
“You just needed your boy,” Trevor tells her, as though it makes perfect sense. “We get it, Princess P,” he says, coming to a stand and leaning down to give her a hug. “Sometimes you just need your person, no matter where they are or what else is going on. You just know that when they’re with you—on the phone or in person— things are a little bit better.”
I get the distinct feeling that he’s no longer talking about Paige and me, but I don’t have time to read anything deeper because Jake stands, too, and starts saying his goodbyes. “On that note, we’ll leave you two. I’ll crash in Trevor’s room, so you guys can have some time. Will we see you two at brunch tomorrow?”
I shake my head. “Probably not. I need to be back by noon, so…”
“No worries, I’ll let everybody know you had to head back early, but that you’re in good hands. And you should probably text Mom and Dad tomorrow, you know, once you cross state lines.”
“I love you guys,” she tells them, and after another round of hugs (my family is not this touchy-feely), they leave.
And here we are, alone in a hotel room. No one knows we’re here. There are no roommates to worry about, no lizards to feed, nothing. Just Paige and me and two very large beds. One, of course, is rumpled and strewn with the leftover remnants of food service.
The other one, however, is immaculate and waiting to be messed up.
Paige takes my hand and leans her head on my chest. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
I kiss the top of her head, inhaling the sweet scent that is inherently Paige. “Where else would I be?”
“Um, Vermont?” She looks up and smiles and a piece of my heart falls right back into place.
“Not a chance. You needed me. I’m glad you had your brother and his boyfriend, but…”
She shakes her head. “Oh, they’re not together. Jake’s been best friends with Trevor since the first grade.”
I’m not so sure she’s right about that, but I’m not having this conversation right now. Not when it’s past midnight, we need to leave in eight hours, and I still have no idea what caused her to be stuck in the rain at the bus shelter.
“My bad. But I’m glad they were here for you. Now, can you please fill me in on what happened tonight?”
She sighs and I can tell how tired she is. “Do you think we can save sad story time for the drive home?”
“Whatever you need.”
“I need to forget about tonight, if only for a little while. But I’m not quite ready to go to sleep just yet.”
