Never Let Go by Scarlett Edwards

turn off the element before he starts a fire. “Where’d you get these?”
    “Your fridge was a little empty when I woke up this morning. I took it upon myself to stock up.” He points out the plastic grocery bags nearby.
    “You bought food?” I ask in disbelief. “ Why ?”
    “If I’m going to be spending time here,” he says, flipping the eggs onto a plate, “I’m going to need to eat.”
    “Oh. So you and Katy…?”
    “Please.” He opens the fridge door, grabs a carton of milk, and chugs a few gulps right there. It’s disgusting. “There’s nothing going on between me and her.”
    I narrow my eyes at him. “Then what did you mean…?” I trail off, getting the implication. “Oh, no,” I say, shaking my head. “There will definitely not be anything going on between me and you, either.”
    Spencer sits down at the table. “Why do you always have to assume the worst about me?” he asks, making his best attempt at looking hurt. “Maybe I just want a friend.”
    I don’t fall for his sham. “I’ve heard all about your rep,” I tell him. “I know how you treat women. That’s not going to fly with me.”
    “Have you, now?” he asks. He seems amused. “Indulge me, then. What do you think happened here last night?”
    “It’s obvious. You met Katy at the party. You got her drunk. And you cajoled her into bringing you home.” I frown. “You’re despicable.”
    “You’re right,” he says, chewing his egg, “up until the last part. One question, though: Why do you think she’s sleeping alone in her bed right now?”
    “I don’t know,” I say. “Maybe she got sick of your disease-infested man parts and told you to take a hike. That would totally make my day. The real question is what you’re still doing here.”
    “Wow,” Spencer intones. “You really don’t like me, huh?”
    I offer a fake smile. “What’s there to like? You sleep around. You treat women like dirt. You’re brash and arrogant. You’ve probably got a hundred different STDs.”
    Spencer shakes his head. “You’re assuming.”
    It pisses me off how unaffected he is by all this. It pisses me off that I still haven’t been able to wipe that boyish grin off his face. Most of all, it pisses me off that he’s making me angry. “I’m assuming what ?”
    “You’re assuming a lot of things,” he says, nonchalantly popping another piece of egg into his mouth. It pisses me off that he talks while he chews. “But let’s start with the biggest assumption of all. You’re mad because you think I fucked your friend Kate last night.”
    I can’t stop the color from rising in my cheeks. I hate the way I react whenever sex comes up in a conversation. It’s even worse when Spencer’s around. “Why else would you be here?”
    “Maybe I’m just acting the part of a good friend. Maybe I found her plastered at the party last night and decided to take care of her before someone else took advantage.” He shrugs. “Just maybe.”
    “So, you had no ulterior motive for coming here last night?” I scoff. “I find that hard to believe.”
    “Well,” he says slowly, looking me up and down, “I wouldn’t say I had no ulterior motive.”
    I feel an unexpected thrill rise inside me. I shudder and shove it down.
    Suddenly, I’m all too aware of the fact that all I have on beneath my long pajama top are my panties. My legs feel way too exposed.
    I sit down at the table across from Spencer, thankful to have a solid object between his hungry eyes and my bare thighs. “You’re disgusting,” I pronounce.
    Spencer smiles and stands up. “Thanks. I get that a lot.” He stretches his arms overhead and yawns loudly.
    My resolve to stay levelheaded fails me. I can’t keep my eyes off his body.
    The stunning ripples of his abdominal muscles make my insides clench up. His shoulders, chest, and arms are lean and cut. A light grazing of hair trails down the midline of his torso, disappearing from view at the tan line at his hips.