Read Spencer Cohen Series, Book One (The Spencer Cohen Series 1) Online
Authors: N.R. Walker
I woke up to an ungodly pain in my head. The blinds were letting in piercing sunlight, my stomach rolled, and then I remembered…
Kissing Andrew, leaving him at the bar with Eli, drinking half a bottle of bourbon, being a fucking mess in front of everyone, Andrew coming back to me.
He came back to me.
I had no recollection of getting up to my apartment. I remembered the looks of worry on Emilio and Daniela’s faces. Lola, how she tried to help me. Then I remembered Andrew sitting down on the floor next to me.
I sat up, then really wished I hadn’t. “Hello?” I croaked out.
Silence. Ugh. My head hurt.
I went to grab my phone to check for the time, but there was a piece of paper on top of it. It was a hand-written note. “Come downstairs.”
It wasn’t Emilio’s handwriting, it wasn’t Daniela’s or Lola’s, not even Gabe’s. It was Andrew’s.
I shot out of bed, then had to steady myself on the wall. Ugh. Stupid hangovers. I made it to the bathroom, where I noticed I was still dressed from last night. Though someone had taken my shoes off. The shower was heaven, and I scrubbed the stench of bourbon from my skin. Brushing my teeth made me feel almost human, but I couldn’t stay in there for long.
Andrew was waiting for me in Emilio’s shop.
I got dressed and only stopped to pop some Advil before I went downstairs. Not even the retina-burning sunlight could slow me down. Gabe was at the back door, sucking on a filthy cigarette. The smell made me wanna hurl. He smiled. “Hey. How’s your head?”
“Not great. Look, I’m really sorry about last night.”
“Don’t be,” he said with a smile. “Someone’s still here.” He gave a nod to inside. “Spent the night on your couch apparently.”
I tried not to smile, and without a word Gabe pushed the door with his foot, letting me in. “Thanks.”
I didn’t mean to intrude on private conversations, but Emilio, Daniela, Lola, and Andrew obviously weren’t expecting me to come through the back door. I heard the tail end of them talking as I walked in. It was Emilio’s voice. “…when his brother turned up, he was a mess.”
My heart sank, and my already fragile stomach rolled. I guessed after my meltdown last night it was only fair that I would be their topic of conversation.
“That’s when he got the birds tattooed on his arm?” Andrew asked.
“Yeah,” Emilio answered. “They symbolize life after death. You know, new beginning, that kind of thing.”
I walked out and Emilio saw me first. “Here he is! Feeling okay?”
“Like shit actually,” I answered, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Andrew. He was wearing my clothes.
He stood up slowly, smiling warily. “I uh, I had to borrow a shirt. I hope you don’t mind?”
I shook my head. “Not at all.”
And for the longest moment, we just stared at each other.
“Right then,” Lola said, breaking me out of my stupor. “We’ll just be out back.” She grabbed Daniela’s arm and left, dragging Emilio with them.
Then it was just me and him. I smiled. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“You stayed.”
“I did.”
“I’m really sorry about last night.”
“Don’t apologise.”
“I don’t remember much,” I admitted. “I remember losing my shit, which I can only apologise for. I’m not a basket case, I promise.”
He walked over to me and stood within touching distance. “You hungry?” he asked. “We could grab a Moroccan breakfast?”
“Sounds perfect.”
“We need to talk.”
I nodded. “We do.” I took a deep breath and asked the question I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer to. “You spoke to Eli last night?”
He nodded. “I asked him about the prints and the job application. He admitted to making copies but couldn’t bring himself to take the originals. He didn’t even make the first round of interviews for that job because he didn’t submit artwork. He said he was sorry.”
I swallowed hard. “What did you tell him?”
“I told him it was over,” he said, staring right at me.
My heart thumped in my chest. “Is that right?”
A faint blush crept down his neck. “Yeah, I told him there was this Australian guy who knew more about me in two days than he did in eight months.”
I gave him a breathy smile as relief coursed through me. “Is that right?”
Andrew put his hand to my face. “He gets me, like no one else has.”
I nodded. “I know.”
“And I was hoping he’d like to maybe get to know me a little better,” he whispered.
I leaned into his hand and closed my eyes. “He does.”
“I know he has some family issues,” Andrew said quietly. “But that doesn’t scare me.” Not sure I could trust my voice to speak, I nodded, but he lifted my face. “Look at me,” he whispered. I did as he asked, and there was only strength and honesty in his eyes. “It doesn’t scare me, Spencer. In fact, I think you’re something wonderful.”
I swallowed down my emotions and ignored my hammering heart. “I think you’re kinda great too.”
I could feel his body heat, how close he was, his breath on my lips. His voice was a gruff whisper. “Can I kiss you?”
He was
right
there, so close, and all I could do was nod. My heart was beating triple time. Then he pressed his lips to mine. He held my face, so gently, and I put my hands around his waist. It was a sweet kiss, a kiss with promise. An
everything
kind of kiss.
It would have been perfect if Lola hadn’t squealed from one of the cubicles. We broke apart with a nervous, relieved laugh.
“Sorry,” she squeaked. She raced out and gave us both a quick hug. “I’m just so excited!” she cried, her hands to her mouth, before she ran back to the cubicle.
I couldn’t help but laugh, and Andrew pulled me closer. The both of us were a bit embarrassed. He kissed me again, just real quick. “Come on. I’m starving,” he said, taking my hand. He walked to the door. “You ready?”
I stopped.
Was I ready? To take this one step further? To finally let someone in? To tell him the story of Spencer Cohen and hope that he would still want me?
With my heart in my mouth, I nodded. “Yeah. I’m ready.”
~The End
N.R. Walker is an Australian author, who loves her genre of gay romance.
She loves writing and spends far too much time doing it, but wouldn’t have it any other way.
She is many things: a mother, a wife, a sister, a writer. She has pretty, pretty boys who live in her head, who don’t let her sleep at night unless she gives them life with words.
She likes it when they do dirty, dirty things… but likes it even more when they fall in love.
She used to think having people in her head talking to her was weird, until one day she happened across other writers who told her it was normal.
She’s been writing ever since…
Blind Faith
Through These Eyes (Blind Faith #2)
Blindside: Mark’s Story (Blind Faith #3)
Ten in the Bin
Point of No Return – Turning Point #1
Breaking Point – Turning Point #2
Starting Point – Turning Point #3
Element of Retrofit – Thomas Elkin Series #1
Clarity of Lines – Thomas Elkin Series #2
Sense of Place – Thomas Elkin Series #3
Taxes and TARDIS
Three’s Company
Red Dirt Heart
Red Dirt Heart 2
Red Dirt Heart 3
Red Dirt Heart 4
Red Dirt Christmas
Cronin’s Key
Cronin’s Key II
Cronin’s Key III
Exchange of Hearts
Free Reads
Sixty Five Hours
Learning to Feel
His Grandfather’s Watch (And The Story of Billy and Hale)
Translated Titles
Fiducia Cieca (Italian translation of Blind Faith)
Attraverso Questi Occhi (Italian translation of Through These Eyes)
Preso alla sprovvista (Italian translation of Blindside)
Il giorno del mai (Italian translation of Blind Faith 3.5)
Confiance Aveugle (French translation of Blind Faith)
A travers ces yeux: Confiance Aveugle 2 (French translation of Through These Eyes)
Aveugle: Confiance Aveugle 3 (French translation of Blindside)
À Jamais (French translation of Blind Faith 3.5)
Coming Soon
The Spencer Cohen Series: Book 2