Taking It Slow - Reese Knightley Page 0,9
whatever capacity.
“You got root beer?” Spencer squinted.
That caught him off guard. “Yes, of course,” he told him, a small white lie. He’d buy stock in A&W for life if it kept Spencer happy.
“Yeah. I’ll come.” Spencer smiled. “Can I bring someone?”
His heart just about stopped and he swallowed hard. Spencer had a significant other. How come he didn’t know that?
“Yeah, sure.”
He clapped Spencer on the shoulder and turned away to hide his heartache.
Spencer
“What an asshole!” Wesley shouted, grabbing the “oh shit” handle above the door.
“Language,” Spencer muttered, but agreed when he was forced to break hard and whip his truck to the side of the road when a black SUV blew through a stop sign on Liam’s street.
Easing his pickup back on the road, he drove down the street until he reached a gate.
The words Cobalt Estates were etched elegantly into the metal sign positioned on one of the concrete pillars that bookended the black iron gate in the affluent Bel Air, California, neighborhood. The man at the guard shack opened the small sliding window when he pulled up.
“Captain Turner,” he told the guy.
“Go right in, sir. The colonel is expecting you.”
Pulling his truck through the gate, it opened up into another street. Three houses lined the street. Two smaller, if you could call them that, were nestled on the left, but the house at the end was a massive structure that boggled the mind.
Christ, the place was even bigger than he’d remembered.
See, Liam had been wrong. Spencer had shown up to the guy’s party. Only Spencer hadn’t stayed. In fact, last time, he hadn’t even gotten out of his truck.
He’d seen the line of expensive vehicles parked in the circular driveway at the entrance to the massive structure of the estate-type home and had become intimidated. He’d even put on his best jeans and shirt, but he knew he would pale in comparison to the expensively dressed people heading inside with brightly wrapped gifts. He’d made a U-turn and booked it out of there, much like he wanted to do today, but he worked on keeping the truck idling.
Thank God there wasn’t another party. Instead of expensive cars and limo’s filling the driveway, it stood empty save Liam’s truck and now his.
“Holy shit,” Wesley gulped.
“Language.”
“Um, yeah. So says the guy who says the F word every other phrase,” Wesley snorted.
“I mean it. And you only heard me use the F word when I was talking to a buddy on the phone. Of which, you shouldn’t have been listening.”
“Sorry.” Wesley looked down sheepishly.
“It’s cool.” He gripped his brother on the shoulder.
“Have you ever been here before?”
“Once, but I never went inside.”
“Why not?”
“I got called away.”
Wesley stared at him.
“What?” he mumbled, avoiding his brother’s probing gaze.
“Okay. Well, I’m starved. Are we going in or are we driving away?”
“Going in.” He pulled the truck up a bit farther.
Liam opened the door and stepped out onto the porch and Spencer’s heart did a double tap. It wasn’t new, his pulse always seemed to quicken around the guy. The colonel stood tall and confident in blue jeans, a dress shirt, and bare feet, waiting patiently for them to get out of his old, rusty truck. The stupid thing backfired when Spencer turned off the engine.
Great. Rich boy, meet beyond poor boy.
Stop it, he berated himself. He put an end to anything between him and Liam, so this was nothing but friends getting together. Friends, my ass. He’d never reacted to a friend like he did to Liam Cobalt.
Their financial differences were huge. He was barely squeaking by and as soon as Wesley turned eighteen, his brother was coming to live with him. That way, Spencer could stop paying for his mom’s house and rent an apartment for him and Wesley. That was the end goal and he needed to keep his eye on the prize. So what if he lived on Top Ramen and potatoes. It filled the gut.
Spencer shoved his shoulder against the truck door and lifted the handle at the same time and it groaned when it opened. He stepped out and tried to ignore the way the metal screeched when he shoved it shut. Wesley jumped out and met him on the driver’s side.
His phone rang and the number soured his stomach. “Go on. I’ve got to take this. I’ll be there in one minute.” He smiled at his brother.
“Hello?”
“Turner.”
“Mayer.” He let out a hard breath.
“I came to do a welfare check on Wesley, but he’s not here.”
“He’s with me.”
“You knew