“So, you’ve met my sister, Sneaky?”
It stunned me to see Spencer with her. Knowing he was downstairs on the sixth floor was challenging, and I debated nightly if I should knock on his door or not. So far, I’d stood in front of it twice, wondering how he would react if he opened the door to see me with a smile and a hard on. Common sense had prevailed. Knowing my bed was above his, and that I could be on his doorstep in less than a minute made every second I spent alone even more torturous. Looking at him now, it took every ounce of self-control not to kick everyone out and drag him to my bedroom.
Spencer was downright elegant and debonair, with his usually messy blond hair slicked back, a la Rudolph Valentino style. His tuxedo fit him perfectly, and he was the perfect match to my sister
