Page 65 of Happy Krampus Xmas & the Meet Not Cute
The next day, I park my car near the library. Spencer has been ghosting me since he saw me with my father yesterday. The deeply hurt expression on his face goes on replay inside my head. But believe it or not, once again, I was protecting him.
My father showed up unannounced. He wanted to make sure I fully understand the repercussions in case I decide to go against him and choose football. He’d cut me off, and the trust fund my grandfather left me, my inheritance, would be delayed ten more years since there’s a specific term I need to meet, which is working for the family business for at least five years.
I’d always thought I’d be free from him with all that money. Playing in the NFL is a fucking dream come true, but although right now, my stats would get me a foot in, anything can happen.I could get injured or disqualified. It’s happened before to young players. And then what?
That trust fund is the only reason I’ve been putting up with all my father’s crap. But since I met Spencer, I’ve started to see things from another perspective. Yes, that inheritance is rightfully mine, but do I really need it?
I’ll get my degree next year, and the NFL is probably interested.Idid this. All of it.Me. My father’s money helped for sure, butIsweat and sacrificed and kept going. I’m still going.
My father left after a very heated argument, caused by the fact that my mother had a car accident a month ago and was sent to rehab and he didn’t find it significant enough to tell me before.
Then my mother called, asking me to come see her at the facility. She sounded hesitant on the phone, like she expected me to refuse. And I should have after the way she barely acknowledged me all my life. But Spencer again made me change my mind. The way he turned his life around, plus the desperation in her voice on the phone made me go see her. I tried to call him during the two-hour drive, but he never picked up. When I finally saw her and talked to her, my world imploded.
I tried to call Spencer again and texted him several times, but still no answer. I had to go take care of a few things back at home. It took more time than I expected, and I was able to come back only this morning. I went straight to practice, and after a quick shower, I drove to Spencer’s apartment and when he didn’t answer the door, I went to the café. I remembered he told me about studying at the library yesterday. So that’s where I am now.
I jog up the front stairs and push the heavy wooden door, keeping it open for a girl coming out. The temperature is much higher inside the building, it makes me unzip my jacket and shove my gloves inside the pocket. I know Spencer has a favorite spot on the second floor. I’ve thought about blowing him among the dusty bookshelves more than once. But now is not the time.
When I reach the room, I spot him right away. Elbow propped on the table, the earphones wire trailing down his neck, he’s listening to one of his lesson recordings. His deep dedication to his studies rivals mine to football. And it’s one of the things I respect most about him.
Watching him undisturbed starts a butterfly-sensation inside my gut. He’s lovely. The light coming from the tall window on the right forms a halo around him. His red hair has a shimmer to it, a shining glow hovering over his head. It gives him almost an other-worldly appearance.
He looks focused on the book, but after spending all my free time with him the last weeks, I can easily detect the tension in his balled-up hands and the faint frown between his brows. I know it’s because of me. I just hope he’ll give me a chance to explain.
I walk to his table and plop down in the chair next to his. He doesn’t lift his eyes from the book.
So, I tag on one earphone and try with a lame, “Hey.”
He still doesn’t look at me. “Didn’t expect to see you here. Or ever again.” The ice filling his tone reaches my skin and makes me almost shiver.
“I’m sorry. My father is an asshole, I didn’t…”
“Fucking stop with the puppy eyes!” He finally turns to me as a chiding “shhhh” coming from somewhere in the library makes him lower his voice to an angry hiss. “Don’t know your father, but there was definitely an asshole standing in front of me yesterday.”
“I know. I-I turn into an idiot when I’m around him.” I try to grab his hand, but he slides it under the table. Fuck, this is bad.
“No shit!” he mutters. “Don’t want to hear any excuse you came up with now.”
“Don’t push me away,” I growl. Another “shhhh” interrupts me, and I see Spencer closing his books and shoving them inside his messenger bag. He stands up and yanks on his jacket before heading for the exit without waiting for me.
When we get outside, he doesn’t stop walking as he focuses his glare straight ahead.
“I’m not pushing you away. Seeing you with your father was an eye opener. As you said, you are a puppet. You have a life planned, and there’s no place for me. You had your gay experiment, now go.”
“No,” I bark, angry at how easily he’s disregarding me and what we have. At how stubborn he is.
“Yes,” he counters.
“No. I want more.”
“No, you want dick. Look around, you can find it anywhere. You’re a popular athlete for fuck’s sake.”
He’s right, but, “I wantyourdick!” I grab his arm, but he jerks back.
“This”—he moves his finger from me to him—“was a bad idea from the beginning. We are from two very different worlds—planets. Let’s call it quits now and move on.”
I can’t believe my ears. “Is it that easy for you? To just dump me and go on with your life?”
His silence scares me.
