Izzy hadn’t heard much of what else Beck had to say, static deafening everything as something like stone caved into her chest. She hadn’t remembered dropping the call, only coming to when finding herself alone in the parking lane.

At first, she thought of simply ignoring it all. Regardless of whatever the hell was going through Spencer’s mind, it wasn’t any of her concern. He wasn’t hers to claim.

But having that stick to her mind was another thing. By the time she got in her car, a new wave of emotion other than jealous and sadness filled her. It was an age old friend, better known as rage. And it thundered through her veins, drowning out all else as one, single thought arose.

She'd break Spencer Hull before he succeeded in breaking her.

Calling Beck back was the last thing Izzy wanted to do, but she needed to know where and when Spencer would be attempting this stunt. It took negotiating to oblige for extra alone time to spend with Kady once she arrived for the asshole to give Izzy that information. Izzy couldn’t help but be skeptical he was bullshitting her. As insufferable as he was, Beck Addams wasn’t an idiot.

He had to have known she was going to stir up something. Though, maybe that was it. Maybe he was willing to bet the odds on whatever hell Izzy would bring, would fare far less worse than the alternative he failed to talk Spencer out of. She was the obstacle to use to his advantage.

As much as Izzy grew irked at the thought of being a tool, she’d rather that be the case than she was charging in for a battle already lost. So, that following day, at two o'clock, Izzy got geared up. An hour before Spencer would allegedly show up at Gritts, a bar on Clove Boulevard, to meet with Amber, a friend of his ex who was interested in renting his apartment.
Izzy opened up her wardrobe in deep thought. She debated long and hard about going for the blazer and plum strapless when inviting him over the other day. He'd practically been drooling. In the end, she reached that there was one other piece more suited for this occasion and wasted no time to dress up and apply make-up.

She had twenty minutes to spare and hung around the parking lane in her sedan. After two minutes rolled by, the shadow of a vehicle peeled out from one concern and her eyes skipped to the steel blue truck that slipped by. Mark set, she pumped on the engine and tailed it.

Aside from a quick stop he made at the tattoo parlour, to maybe pick up a final paycheck or something, he stayed on course to the supplied destination. Soon enough, she caught the overhead sign of the bar in painted gold and felt both relieved and distraught. This was happening. Last chance to back out.

The second his Herculean figure emerged from the truck and he walked to the doors, gone was any hesitation. Izzy killed the engine, waiting several moments before she made her way inside.

As expected of a bar, the place was dim enough to elude to night when it was only late noon. Powdered blue booths filled up the space, matched with murky brown coloured walls as she weaved through several people. Servers and customers alike, no mind paid to differentiate and desperately trying to find the one responsible for why she dragged herself out here.

Not too many rivalled that exact height and shape, even if the sued jackets and sleeves of tattoos were a handful in the crowds. She recognised that neck inking anywhere. His back was turned to her, focused on the young woman sat on the other side.

Malice and jealousy pulsed through Izzy as she took in the profile. Amber, as she guessed was the stranger, was all soft curves and luscious, marigold hair somehow glowing under such unflattering light. Just who dolled up in a cocktail dress for a bar scene?

Seemed somebody was looking to grab the apartment and some ass. Izzy almost felt bad she’d be stealing both right from under the girl. No wait, not bad. The word was enthralled.

With newfound pride, she strutted up in her laced boots and both were so engrossed, neither noticed her hovering. Izzy cleared her throat. To catch Spencer’s expression shift from bemusement into awe, jaw falling partly slack, was cinematic. Izzy fought hard not to let her lips curl upwards, or give in to just snatching him by the collar and kissing him silly. Or delivering a slap. Maybe both.

“Uh, can we help you?” Amber was the one to ask.

It was then that Izzy caught it. The whiff of perfume, distinct to the one in Spencer’s truck. Her hand curled to a fist. “Actually, I believe I can help you. Hope he hasn’t gotten you to sign anything.” It was easy to steel her nerves and serve up Spencer a cold stare.

Both he and Amber wore on confused frowns. Spencer finally managed to wriggle out words. “Izzy, what are you doing here?”

“Saving another girl from being a victim to your shady business. Don’t think once the police have gotten the warrant to arrest you, will be the end of it. I'm suing you for every cent you took from me.”

Amber’s mouth fell open, face paled.
Spencer, surprisingly didn’t so much as blink to the heresy and started to get up. “Okay, no. Stop whatever the hell this is right now, Izzy and go home.”

She matched his stare, crossing her arms over her chest.

He let out a breath, then seized her by the wrist. Izzy didn’t put up any protest, letting him haul her into the bathroom and securely lock it behind them. Up close and without any intervening thoughts, she regarded how he seemed wearier than usual. Dark circles under his eyes and his hair hadn’t been combed in days.

“What are you— how are you even here? Have you been following me?”

“Don’t see why I should need to answer a stalker. You've got quite some nerve to be mucking about after that disrespectful show that day. In my own house.” Setting a vengefully, poignant edge came out with ease through her lips.

Every second they were both detained, no eye candy in short dresses or distance to hide behind, everything she forced down was surfacing. The urges, the warmth, the hope. Izzy swore the tethering flashes of regretful words were within reach to sever from his heavy gaze.

Spencer pinched the bridge of his nose, releasing another sigh. “… If it’s about what I said, I didn’t mean it. But that’s all. You have to just forget about me already.”

“Just because you think that’s what’s best for me? Because we're in different places in our lives, everything else doesn’t matter? That make sense to you?”

Izzy was certain if he lied and said yes, she really would’ve hit him there. Seeming wiser, Spencer turned to unlock the door.

“Don’t!” She moved quick to cuff his arm. “You get surprised I have to ambush you when you pull shit like this? Quit running away from me.”

He broke free from her clutches. “Quit bothering me and I won’t have to.” There was a quiver in his lips, betraying any front that he was angered. He looked pained. He looked tired. “Cut it out, Izzy we're done with this.”

He seemed to even refrain from holding eye contact too long, carefully choosing his words as to not slip and give in. Well, he'd have to try harder.

Izzy unbuttoned her jacket, finding those eyes latching to the flash of grey and then steadying once all of the dress was revealed. The very dress he'd asked her to come and sleep with him in. And the reaction was instant.

His grip on the door fell. Dark, fiery passion burnt his pupils that expanded as he tried to simply swallow. But it was every bit as torn and rattled as he looked. “Izzy, please…”

“Tell me again and mean it. Tell me these past few days, haven’t been hell. You didn’t regret it, I was never on your mind or in control of it. Tell me and then we're done.”

He stood, still as stock. A series of emotions flickered by that seemed to span eons but seconds all the same before it caved to a wistful stare. He didn’t say a word though, leaving her to begin to feel a bit awkward trying to keep her domineering posture in the dingy dwellings of a bar toilet.

Then it occurred it her. He was waiting. Waiting for her to give him a command.

“Right, I didn’t lay out the other options, did I? If you've acknowledged your wrongs and want to be forgiven, lift me up on here.” She gestured to the basin behind her.

He acquiesced, soldiering to her side with haste. The feel of those callous hands on her hips threatened a violet flutter in her chest as she slunk her arms over his shoulders, eye to eye. It felt more intense than ever before as her feet swept up, knees bending as he settled her onto the basin with utter most care.

Izzy indulged herself to trail her fingers along his shoulders and forearms before dropping to rest on her sides. “Now—” She stopped, alarmed by the sheer excitement in her voice and chased it out. Flattened it out to stern, despotic. “If you’re really sorry, don’t you think you should be on your knees?”

Spencer looked like he'd been hoping to hear those words all his life. He went down on one knee, before the other followed and head lowered. It was impossible not to lightly reach to stroke his hair. Soft and thick, just perfect in her fingers.

“Raise your head.”

His pools of green were gleaming as he stared up at her. “I'm sorry. For ever hurting you all those times unintentionally and for not trying to make it right when I knew I did.”

God, that look could kill.

“You make a pretty convincing show of remorse. But you acted out of line, not once or even twice so, Spacne.” She caught his gleam grow at the crude nickname she threw into the chastening. “It’s going to take a lot more to prove it. So for your first penance…” Izzy took her knotted lace, unfurling it before those watchful eyes and trying not to show her anxiety once the boot slid off.

It was more on the spur than planning, but she hoped he could understand what she wasn’t sure how to fully convey in words. That she’d accept him whole just as he did for her, didn’t seem to cover it. There was still sides, pasts and so much to understand and learn. She wanted the promise of only that, nothing less, nothing more.

Izzy wasn’t so far gone to believe in soulmates but she’d let herself believe he deduced that from her wildly thumping heart as his hand took the arch of her foot. The expression wasn’t so vagrant like in his drunken state, but the fragility and softness in his light kiss by her ankle melted her insides.

He slightly closed his eyes, feeling out the shape as the his breath rolling down caused her toes to curl. His grip tightened, looking so damn happy that Izzy couldn’t resist not to make mention of it.

“Jesus, you’re so weird.”

Eyes opening, he smiled even wider as he said, “And you love it.”

Her heart spiked. This motherfucker… “Is that how you beg for forgiveness?”

Spencer shook his head, remnants of mischief still lurking though. “It’s getting confusing—” He marked his mouth on her big toe. “Should I keep apologizing—” Another on the ridge. “Or keep tasting you?” A quick slick of the tongue by the sole, rendering a shiver.

Izzy snorted. “You’re the furthest thing from confused.”

All at once, Spencer stilled. She nearly broke into a fit of panic, wondering what she possibly said wrong there when he gaped. “Did you just smile?”

“What? No.” She absentmindedly brought a hand to her face.

“You did.” Spencer shot up to his full height, awe brimming. “Fuck, I wasn’t ready. Do it again. Please.”

“Jump off a cliff and I'll consider it.”

He chuckled. The little act powerful enough to fill her with all these surges and warm, buzzing sensations. “I missed you.”

Izzy wanted to say she missed him more, but what came out was far more needy in her opinion. “Then how could you just go and try to leave like that?” Voice weak and lips wobbly.

Spencer evidently, hadn’t expected that, much less a return. He recoiled fast enough to pull her close, chin sinking into his shoulder while his hand stroked the back of her head. “I was being stupid. I won’t leave you.”

“… I'm sorry,” she hardly recognised her own meek voice, but pushed on. “If I ever came on too hard. Or too cold. You had every right to doubt me. I didn’t even know what I wanted from you. I don’t— I'm not good at this stuff.”

“No shit.”

“Promise me you won’t move out then. Don’t sell the apartment to that girl.”

Spencer’s stroking stopped then, tenderly withdrawing to face her with a puzzled look. “What? I'm not selling my apartment. Where'd you get that from?”

Right then, a heavy pounding sounded at the door.

Izzy went on. “Beck. He said you quit your jobs and were selling your apartment because you were moving back to Malvine.”

“What? No, that can’t be right. He's the one he introduced me to Amber, why would he…?”

It was at that, it occurred to them both what really just transpired. A set up. “That little shit played me to walk in here and make a dumbass scene.” Izzy shook her head. It was bad enough without think how easily he'd tricked her too.

“Don’t worry, I'll bash his head in,” Spencer vowed.

“Wait, if you aren’t moving then what are you here with this Amber person for then?”

Spencer rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, Beck wasn’t lying about the quitting part. Um, I'm planning to start attending a culinary school in town. So I can qualify for more, higher paying full time work in food industries and it's something I feel if even a little confident in. Pretty damn expensive though, so Julie’s roommate, Amber, is familiar with listings and showing me scholarships I could apply for instead of emptying my savings.”

“… You… really?”

Spencer nodded. “You were right about what you said. I was making up excuses, getting scared of trying and that boat thing too. Had no clue my surname had a relation. I just thought the store was called Hull because my dad lacked creativity.”

Before Izzy could find the next words, them came in that knocking once more, heavier and audibly exasperated. “Just tell her you love her and fuck off already! Goddammit.”

“I think we should leave now,” said Spencer. “I need to go and explain some things to Amber, too.”

“I’ll have to apologise as well,” Izzy volunteered. Though, it was majorly more on the fact she needed to fact check this purely was just business.

Without Izzy requesting it, Spencer scooped her up in his arms to take her down from the basin and she didn’t waste the opportunity to rest her hands on his shoulders. Even after she was steadied back on the floors, she didn’t let go. She held on tighter, burying her head in his inviting chest.

“Izzy?”

“I want to stay like this. Just for a few seconds.”

He obeyed, allowing her to close her eyes in content and listen to his rising heartbeat, pretending there wasn’t any one on the brink of breaking down the door two feet way, hurling death threats.

Finally, she was at peace.

**

After clearing the air, Izzy sat down at the booth for the rest of Amber’s propositions she'd listed for Spencer. He wasn’t completely too high in pure, natural ecstasy not to focus but it was a bit of a challenge when they paused to take their drinks and snacks, Izzy made the most incidental gropes and strokes under the table.

It became something of a game of torment not to react or touch her in return throughout it, fuelling his eagerness for once they got to be alone. He'd been so tempted to leave his truck and climb into Izzy’s sedan, where she probably would climb him, but parking fines around bars were no fucking joke.

So he risked getting a speeding ticket in his newest record time to pull up into the apartment parking lane, only seconds after her. That wordlessly decided it would be on her floor and what made it maddening was how she deliberately didn’t wait for him, letting him feel like he was stalking her in his steps to keep up with her fast strides. Once reaching the door, it was closed shut. He gave the handle a pull, but it didn’t budge. Bolts locked.

Right then, he received a text alert.

I haven’t said I've forgiven you yet

It was more of a hunch than anything but Spencer was sure Izzy was standing right by the door, watching him read through the peephole.

Further on, instructions were stated that he needed to wait outside the door and send photos of the window view right across every fifteen minutes to be sure he hadn’t moved and it was a different shot.

He prepared to make himself comfortable for what could be a long night, maybe without even any physical merit to come from it. Either way, Izzy was offering to indulge in him from this day forth and he’d never dare to throw that away again.

He sat cross legged, back to the frame and at each fifteen minutes that passed, he imagined what she could be up to on the other side. She could be removing her make up, slipping in to the shower or hard at preparing dinner. Maybe she was just lounging on the couch, watching TV and phone on silent, him long since forgotten.

After an hour or so, it got easier for anyone to notice the difference in the shots as the sky blushed a soft pinkish shade and the sun resembled a yolk the more it dipped into the horizon.

Somewhere around six, Spencer heard the distinct noise of footsteps from the other side. He stepped aside from the threshold, coppery eyes glinting in the shadows from the door slightly parted. He made out her gesturing with a head nod and gladly walked in. The entry remained dim, nothing much past her soft silhouette brushing him as she slid the bolts and locked them in. Once a switch was flicked, light exposed her and his throat ran dry.

Izzy wore nothing but a dark red nightgown, material so thin, he would’ve seen her nipples if not for her loose curls falling over them and she must’ve waxed because only a shadow tint marked the bare skin of her clit that in memory bore dark hair, neatly trimmed.

The narrow passage, seeming to be nothing but a curse left this diabolical temptation she’d set up leaving Spencer short of breath. She was so, so close. Less than arm's length. He forced himself to stick by the wall, salvaging any distance he could.

“It’s okay, your penance is over. I could hardly stay mad at you if I tried— consider yourself very lucky.”

Lucky was an understatement to this. Spencer was doing his hardest to not give in to the negative thoughts his self-loathing and low esteem loved to entertain, but he really wasn’t deserving of any of this.

“Spencer…” Izzy didn’t use her seductive voice to say it. They both knew she had one and hell, it worked but she chose to be brazen. Like her stare. The usual, regular Izzy that got to him first. “Hold me.”

He then remembered he didn’t need to battle being worthy of her or not. She wanted him and that was enough. Spencer crowded her with his superior frame and felt her shiver where his erection brushed up against her. With how dismissible the robe was, it was like grinding her nude and he grew even harder.

“Y’know,” she slowly started, voice tickling his neck. He was half-listening, half sniffing her to finally uproot what the smell was on her. “There’s a chance I could actually be a psychopath.” He went stiff, but in a different way. Guilt. And she sensed it, hastily adding on. “I know you said it to spite me but I thought about it too. An uncle of mine who’s a psychiatrist recommended I take a diagnosis, said my chances were pretty good. Like it was a job application.” That wriggled out a light chuckle from Spencer, tension leaving his body. “But I didn’t bother, didn’t really care. Maybe if I did though and I passed, it'd make it easier for you.”

Spencer pulled back a bit to see her expression. It appeared calm but he knew the little tells; trepidation stinted the gleam she wore. “Easier how?” He asked.

“So you'd know what you’re dealing with. And won’t get false hopes about whether I'll properly settle in my emotions and feelings.”

He couldn’t believe that the girl who supposedly didn’t mind being labeled with an antisocial disorder was showing concern, worrying over it now, because of him.

“Izzy, that doesn’t matter. Whether there’s a name for it or not, I don’t need it— I'm not coping with you, I'm… “ Falling in love with you. That was what struck him there, all so clear now. Though, he would keep that to himself— there was a good chance he'd spook her rather than be reassuring. And tonight, everything had to go perfectly. “I’m the happiest when I'm with you.”

Izzy still seemed a little taken aback by that much, slowly reverting to that stoic veil and went on her tippy toes to be more levelled. “You keep saying stuff like that, you'll only have yourself to blame. Because I won’t give you another chance to leave.” It wasn’t so much an affection declaration, than a fair warning.

Spencer took it all the same. He'd more than accepted this was a capture before a commitment and left morality aside. “Sounds great.” In one swift move, he grabbed Izzy’s legs and carried her, hardly able to contain himself as he hurried them into her bedroom.

Soft satin, plush pillows and a silk robe flashed before Spencer’s eyes. His heart was in his throat as she lay on her sheets, every inch of her bronze skin before him. He'd seen her naked more than once but the novelty hadn’t worn off. She commanded him to strip in under a minute, or she would send him out the door.

He barely managed, not giving a thought to that self-consciousness when her eyes would rake his tattoos. Fourteen days and six hours was how long he'd gone without her, without this.

He counted it like a tally to condemn himself further for almost wrecking the best thing he ever had. So when he met the hot, taut clasp of her body atop him, it could only be expected he was close to climaxing in a matter of seconds. He wasn’t about to let this reward be over, when he didn’t consider it so rewarding without any ounce of suffering. Yes, he was definitely screwed up.

He might’ve needed a diagnosis more than Izzy but his sole focus was holding it in. As if aware of this, Izzy didn’t waste time in her thrusts, fast and hard to pump waves of pleasure to his cock clenched inside her. His groaning were pleas in distress, refusing his body's wailings to release. The layer of latex wasn’t enough to bridge against her strategic grinding and dangerous little hops to catch him off guard.

He dug his fingers onto her waist as a means of support, maybe balance just something to keep him anchored. Any clumsy move could have him come, but not responding was impossible. Not with her intensive stare, sensual breaths that blew air right above his brows, nor the bounce of her breasts, the hypnotic rolling of her hips. Sweet Jesus.

His nailbeds would leave indents by the extent he was clinging, but Izzy didn’t so much as protest. She merely let out low curses thrown in her moans and when he could no longer deprive himself any longer and he grinded. And immediately, he felt her body completely go still in the action, eyes slightly closed as her muscles tightened. He'd gone to pluck the cord of a harp that had been unused. The result, a little out of tune but still held room to be sharpened.

Self-depravation cast aside, he thrust himself deeper into her wet heat, Izzy recoiling to clench even tighter and the pulsating shock to his core finally sent him over. He came in a ragged, blinding haze, unintelligible words leaving his lips as he lolled his head back and hit the bedframe.

“Shit, are you okay?” Izzy managed in a breathless voice.

He could only surface to nod, though he was better than okay. He had, without a doubt, found happiness.