Spencer Hull was the most infuriating man alive.

Izzy had already suspected this for quite some time but that Saturday night just about confirmed it. Initially, her offer for compensation had been more to provoke than anything but after he'd gone to surprise her with that awfully determined look in his eyes— well, that was worth exploring.

She didn’t think she could come in a more welcoming outfit other than showing up butt naked but that still didn’t seem to spark anything in the dipshit. Otherwise, why bother spending a dime on feeding her?

That was like shaving your head right before going to the barber shop. She’d been so tempted to punch him in the jugular but the chutney was fucking delicious. Didn’t hold a candle to her own, but still.

He could hardly meet her eyes without lingering or flushing. Except for when he thought she’d feed him a compliment, pander to that fragile little male ego— that was when all shyness peeled back to show an eager puppy, wagging his tail at her every breath. He never got too in over his head though, because once she brushed him off, he didn’t express any distasteful attitude like annoyance or disappointment. He kept a docile head, so subservient to a fault.

She couldn’t help but wonder what it'd be like to get under that? To flesh out all the bottled up emotions and frustrations. Nothing tore someone’s armour down like sex did and her mind was filled with possibilities on what she’d find, where he'd take her, the curiosity spurned her eyes to envision it across the room before she realised it.

He kept stalling though, then teasing her with how he took any crude remarks with that lopsided smile of his. Like he knew well enough it was indecent to be amused but couldn’t help himself, so he'd nervously rub at his nape with those callous hands. Or absentmindedly brushing her legs when reaching to grab another beer.

Until she finally couldn’t take it anymore and he should’ve known better, he said it himself, she didn’t look like the patient type. This was all on him.

When that moment came right before he kissed her, the switch from that dormant gaze to glistening like liquid gold was unparalleled. She felt herself becoming undone at his tight hold, his raunchy moves to sink his fingers and tongue into her with no discretion as though enacting in something so familiar.

Jarringly so, Izzy couldn’t help but ease in on him with that sense of foreknowledge, like they'd done this obtuse dance a dozen times and could guide one another in the dark.

Contrarily, every reoccurring intimate relationship left her more numb and unfulfilled each time. Nothing in her moved at the prospect of men desiring her as a keepsake, a trophy, a challenge or an 'experience'. What she wanted was something she herself couldn’t be sure of until that night.

Everything in how Spencer held her, tasted her, breathed her in like she'd been a means of sustenance was something else. 

Maybe that was unjust when she sought no interest to return that level of dedication but every partnership she went into was always one-sided— a little more weight on her end of the scale couldn’t hurt, right? Besides, it'd been more of a pipe dream than anything she thought to search.

Only to find it in the least likely of places. She knew Spencer had to be hiding something under all that servitude and tattoos but— fuck, he'd gotten her heated within less time that most put into rolling into the sheets after cocktails. She’d been willing to forgive him for dragging his feet with just the raw hunger in how he said he wanted her. Then he had to suddenly stop.

She didn’t feel just annoyed, she felt overexposed. Shame didn’t amount to it and she wasn’t about to let him back into a safe corner just like that, but she would let him have that false sense of security this could stop at any moment he chose.

If he didn’t do it the first time, it was never going to happen. Advice her eldest uncle, Dr. Perez told her, though in regards to addicts but Izzy felt it easily applied in this.

Maybe it was just the cheap ass beer fogging her head that Spencer could give her a taste of something different— better, but Izzy would bet the odds. She had nothing to lose but time and distractions were always appreciated to help with that.

**

Murmurs and heavy footsteps poured in to the locker room once everyone was free to leave the field. It'd been a while since coach had pushed them that hard during drill runs but Izzy could guess, as sure as many of the team did that coach was reeling in the budget improvement. The school was starting to acknowledge their club ever since California's women’s professional lacrosse team, The Golden Bears drafted a sophomore from their humble second rate college before she bumped up to UCLA to finish her studies.

Personally, Izzy didn’t care much for any improvements other than finally having her own locker. She could not withstand another year stuck sharing her space with Colleen’s mouth guard the girl muddled up with Izzy’s on one too many occasions.

Twice. It only happened twice but it was enough to make Izzy develop a compulsion to religiously rinse them before and after every game. Truthfully, Izzy only picked up lacrosse since her mother was fond of it and mini golf was unfortunately not applicable as a college-worthy extracurricular yet somehow billiards and fucking mime made the cut.

Izzy only had herself to blame for not branching out to a bigger school, somewhere like Massachusetts or New York were offers she turned down just to pick somewhere local. Just in case of an emergency and every other day was spent hoping the choice didn’t serve to pay off to those fears.

In the midst of changing out of her damp kit, Izzy heard the noise of a text alert. She’d quickly answered it to see it was the group chat Brian set up that she begrudgingly joined. It wasn’t so bothersome since it was mostly active about the project, though the odd hole in her chest hinted something else made her annoyed to see it.

She couldn’t put her finger on what, when a certain redhead devil bumped her shoulder. Izzy turned to meet a mischievous beam on a freckled face and tendrils of auburn curls tousled and sticking to a sweaty forehead. “And when where you going to tell me that Spencer popped the question?” Colleen said aloud.

Several of their teammates around definitely heard her, but more than used to her antics, they didn’t bother to stare. Izzy usually followed that example, but today something was triggered when wary to what the girl was playing at. “...What?” Izzy said ever so slowly.

“Bitch, don’t play dumb. I know all about you and Spence sharing his truck— and getting you your own key, honestly, that’s so much more romantic than engagement rings. Please tell me you were at least going to invite me to the wedding.” When she let out that obnoxious cackle of hers, it was clear she was just teasing, much to Izzy’s relief.

“Beck told you?” Izzy guessed.

Colleen nodded. “I caught him coming home at the ass crack of dawn in the same clothes the other day and y'know, I had to make sure he wasn’t like, fucking some bimbo behind Kady's back. But it turned out he was just giving Spencer a lift home from his night shifts at that tattoo studio.” She'd sounded nearly disappointed that it was something so mundane.

Izzy could picture how eventful the interrogation had been when confronting her the guy who was merely trying to help his buddy.

Izzy probably should’ve informed the girl on the car keys things earlier and avoided the chance of a horrible misunderstanding.

“See, he's such a sweetheart. Even after you gave him such a hard time.” Colleen nudged her with an elbow. “Who says chivalry is dead huh?”

Izzy grunted. She could never uphold that level of optimism— or was it naïvety? That her friends had about people’s good intentions and she was sure even that guy's borderline saviour complex had its limits. Hopefully. Though, having to mention Spencer was something she'd been desperate to blow steam off through running like mad on the field, only for Colleen to bring him up.

Now she was back to recalling that mentally withdrawn state of him, trying to hide his erection from her as though Izzy were a nun.

“Anyway, glad you’re finally giving him a fair chance,” said Colleen. “Plus, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a tiny bit of a crush on you.” She leant in a bit closer to add in a hush. “Might be something to consider if things don’t work out with Brian.”

Izzy nearly scoffed. Funnily enough, she was quite sure she could have Brian wrapped around her if she just blinked twice at him but none of that crossed her mind even once.

“You got any plans?” Izzy questioned. “I’m in the mood for mini golf.”

“Sure but don’t you have a meeting for that project thing to get to?"

“You were reading my text messages?”

“In my defense, I was hoping it’d be something interesting like nudes for once. Let me dream.” Done with her dramatics, Colleen brought out her phone. “I’ll call for Uber.”

“Don’t bother. Spencer’s truck will be there with him at Sip It, we can just walk there and get it.”

“He won’t mind on such short notice?”

“I already let him know earlier I'd need it.” That was a complete lie, but gambling hadn’t failed Izzy so far.

None the wiser, Colleen easily bought it and began collecting her stuff without bothering to change from her jersey to something with less grass stains. “But I think we should at least invite him to come along. I know you adore your space but it’s only fair.”

Izzy pretended to contemplate it for a moment before agreeing because that had been exactly what she had been hoping Colleen would say.

**

There wasn’t much traffic at the coffee shop. Which was to be expected, as summer was fast approaching, not many would be keen on hot beverages. That wasn’t including particular crowds who seemed physically dependent on caffeine to function, no matter the season.

Izzy could easily flank out those nutcases from her barstool and also quietly sit in relief the group were no longer holding meetings here. Otherwise, that would’ve made for a lot of unwanted hassle.

“Don't you have anything better to do than goof off? Do you actually even study—” Beck drew to a blank there, eyeing Colleen critically. “Whatever the hell you’re even studying. What, Marketing?”

“Marine biology,” snapped Colleen.

Beck scoffed. “Bullshit.” And he was absolutely right, Sutton Creek didn’t even have a marine biology course but Izzy wasn’t about to oust her friend.

Even if funnily enough, Colleen had indeed majored in Marketing when they first met but transferred after only three months. Before it went to history and now she had more or less settled into journalism.

“Having some recreational activities is just as important in studies,” Colleen went on. “Though, I guess I shouldn’t expect much from someone slumming at that geeky IT school. What kind of a social life do you have besides FaceTiming Kady and hogging all her free time?”

“It’s not hogging if she willingly chooses to spend it on me,” he countered.

Whatever Colleen had to say was put on hold when a newcomer took to the counter for a latte and Beck fixed on his radiant, customer service front. It was slightly amusing to watch at the sidelines but not enough to keep Izzy’s attention off the door. Apparently, Spencer was called out an errand to pick up a replacement espresso machine as the courier company was having problems delivering it to the store.

Izzy refrained from asking for details as to not seem too engrossed about it. Colleen had no wit about her but the same didn’t apply to Beck. He could pull quite the stone cold front if he pleased but when he'd 'incidentally' asked about the truck, Izzy swore he was a little suspicious. Maybe he just found it odd Izzy was compliant or maybe he had his own doubts about his friend's generosity too but she would rather avoid adding to it.

It was only after five minutes that a distinct, burly figure came through the door. Spencer was more preoccupied on getting the large box in his hand to the station to notice her or Colleen. Once he did, he stiffened and a ghost of that withdrawn expression flickered across. Izzy doubted he was completely listening as Colleen filled him in on their presence but he salvaged a nod and of course, forked over his keys. He even bothered to apologise for the wait, as if they hadn’t been the ones to show up unannounced.

“So, you coming?” Colleen prompted by the end of her rambling.

Spencer’s eyes darted to Izzy, who didn’t dare so much as blink in return to it. The pause was almost long enough to fall into suspicious before he said, “Sure, but I don’t really know how to play mini golf.”

“That’s okay, Izzy’s a sore loser anyway so you’re better off sucking at it.”

No one ever made Izzy contemplate murder quite like Colleen did. The blabbermouth's claims had seemed to have ignited a spark in his eyes as he steadied his gaze with some sort of newfound interest. “I’d have to see that.” Though, it seemed a bit disbelieving, there was unmistakable mischief and Izzy suddenly wasn’t sure why she ever wanted this.

That feeling was thankfully fleeting once arriving at the New Port theme park. There wasn’t a better or cheaper venue they knew that provided the most lavish fake grass lawns and gaudy obstacle courses that they knew of. Once supplying their tickets to reserve a course, it became clear that Spencer wasn’t a modest person.

He really didn’t know how to play mini golf— not in the slightest, with how much shots he botched on even the juvenile courses used by kids. It inspired a new game for Collen who turned to lining her swings to hit off of the none-existence private parts on the plastic wild animal in the Safari themed set up.

Beck got more annoyed than Izzy ever could bother to muster which kick-started an argument. Somehow, it turned to them putting up their putters as if they were swords to attack each other. Which was admittedly entertaining to watch and Izzy wasn’t alone on that by the few kids spectating it before unimpressed parents were shying them away from the profanities thrown amidst the battle.

Before it escalated further, Spencer intervened. In one swift move, he snatched the putters to toss down and seized both Beck and Colleen by the ear. As they got publically scolded, Spencer was suddenly appearing more like a father stinted with decades separating him from them even though Izzy was sure the guy was probably just five or six years older.

The highlight of it was definitely catching the staff that stood warily at a one corner with the crowd slip in to issue Colleen and Beck off the premises. It never occurred to Izzy that though she considered Spencer about as tough as a bag of wool, his profile with his build and low crew her shirt that hinted his tattoos could give off a rather intimidating look. Spencer formally apologised to the staff and looked ready to leave when Izzy stopped him.

“Where are you going? He didn’t say we had to leave.”

“You think it’s such a great idea to leave those two on their own?”

“They've lived next door to each other for a year and neither of them died without your supervision. Finish your set.”

Spencer glanced to the course, lips pursed. “… Yeah, no. I think I’ve embarrassed myself in front of a bunch of people enough for one day.” His tone fell a little dull at the end, begging her to question if he'd actually been a bit ashamed of his amateur blunders.

As tough of wool.

“Pick up your putt,” Izzy ordered. Besides the side glance, he went to obediently do as told.

She walked over to where his blue painted golf ball hung by the synthetic green play at a good ten feet distance from the hole anchored by an antelope with it’s back arched as a slope.

“Take your position to swing,” she said.

Spencer aligned the putter by the ball with Izzy taking a moment to assess his placement. There was explicable tension in his shoulder where he had them bunched while he leaned in a bit, but that wasn’t so much of a bad thing. Much like the emphasised focus painfully apparent on his face, the sight of it a bit magnetic or maybe it was just the sun playing tricks on how it made his eyes as light as the grass.

It would’ve been so fitting if he still had that other fragrance but she was digressing a bit too much from her aim. Spencer probably figured it out too since he didn’t budge as she leant in close to his side, hand lapping over his grip on the putter. The skin wrapping his knuckles were as pale as they were firm on the tips of her fingers.

“Your posture is alright,” she began right by his ear. “But you focus too much on the slope. You’re thinking about avoiding it.”

“Shouldn’t I be?”

“No.” His head turned to meet her with a puzzled look. “You’re meant to see the slope as an opportunity. The thing about obstacles in mini golf is that you use them to your advantage to clear the course.”

“Use an obstacle… as an advantage?”

“Yes. If you have the ball roll along the slope, it'll easily fall into the hole.”

“Okay, right, but I can’t even hit it to a straight line so…”

“That’s not hard when you find the centre of gravity.” From the slight crinkle along his eyebrows, she guessed he wasn’t following. “A centre of gravity is what you use to balance things out like when you carry those coffee orders on a tray— the place you put your hand to keep it perfectly balanced is what that is. Once you find it on a putter, it controls the power of the swing.”

“There’s not much variety in mini golf putters here so the CG is always right…” Izzy settled her fingers lower to his thick wrists and involuntarily brushed the curve with her thumb as she guided him to reposition the putter to set the ball at the further left side of the blunt edge. “...Here. Now, your control is the most crucial thing since that enforces everything else into effect. You’re good with that.”

“I am?” He didn’t turn his head from the ground, but the sheer disbelief was evident in how softly it left his lips.

“Yes,” Izzy answered, mimicking the gentleness. “Exceptionally good.” She felt the tension loosen in his muscles, replaced with goosebumps arising when she tightened her grip, planting her feet right by his as she took in the sight of him visibly swallow.

“Now take the shot.”

There wasn’t so much as a hitch before the putter tilted back, the shadow peeling off the ground before meeting the ball again. It swept off the grassy plane and rode the arched frame of the antelope before peddling down and disappearing into the hole.

A sight that always brought a swell of pride in Izzy. Except, this occasion, she’d hardly relished in it before her eyes were back on him. Basking in his bewildered look that lit up his features. The seams of a smile in the works, lifting up his eyes before he veered to her.

And something in Izzy’s brain seemed to short circuit when nothing but static filled in one moment. She lost sight of everything happening and in the next, strong arms were wrapped around her.