I’m momentarily distracted by the way his dark hair pops from under his cap and curls slightly at the nape of his neck.
“Glad to see you’re still alive and didn’t vanish into thin air like you made me believe for the past few days,” Spencer notes, his voice deep and cold. It causes shivers to run down my spine.
I wrap my arms around my waist, protecting myself from the cold breeze outside, even though I still have my hoodie on, and the goosebumps I feel have nothing to do with the weather.
Spencer’s athletic shoulders are tense under the fabric of his jacket, and he shows no intention of moving from where he’s standing. I take a few steps forward, walking off the porch and crossing the dirt drive in front of the house to get closer to him. I know he wants to talk, and there’s no need
