Spencer Cox reply to Sullivan Stapleton: I have no idea as to what you’re referring
Charlie Campbell reply to Spencer Cox: *laugh emoji* PLEASE! I completely agree with Sully. The whole time Deac was chatting with Will last night you looked like you were ready to do murder.
Cole MacCaffrey reply to Spencer Cox: We need Deacon for the tournament man, just remember that
Deacon Stapleton reply to Cole MacCaffrey: *eye roll emoji* Thanks, it’s great to know what my life is worth to you buddy
Deacon Stapleton reply to Spencer Cox: No need to get murdery, I have no interest in Will. He’s really not my type at all
Jesus, these guys are so annoying sometimes…
Spencer Cox: Okay, first of all, why are you all so insistent I have a problem with Deacon talking to Will? I have no problem with it. I’m cool. As a cucumber. Will can talk to whoever he wants. He’s just my PA, that’s all! And secondly Deacon, what do you mean he’s not your type?? Do you not like really hot, sweet, funny guys who are great in bed???
It’s not until after I’ve sent the message that I realize I’ve completely contradicted myself and given the situation away. I can only blame the fact that I’m still pretty sleepy right now.
Deacon Stapleton reply to Spencer Cox: Umm…
Sullivan Stapleton reply to Spencer Cox: JUST your PA huh??
Charlie Campbell reply to Spencer Cox: *laugh emoji*
Spencer Cox: *middle finger emoji*
Spencer Cox: Fuck all of you. You’re all off the team
Jackson Downey reply to Spencer Cox: Woah! What did I do? I’m behind you a hundred percent cap
Spencer Cox reply to Jackson Downey: Okay Jax you can stay
Deacon Stapleton reply to Jackson Downey: [GIF]
Jackson Downey reply to Deacon Stapleton: Is that GIF supposed to be me inviting Spence to kiss my ass or the other way around? You should really be more clear
Skyler Mason: Okay is anyone else finding that GIF to be a bit of a turn on?
Sullivan Stapleton reply to Skyler Mason: Umm…
Deacon Stapleton reply to Skyler Mason: I mean…if a clip of a computer animated Mr. Potatohead slapping his own ass does it for you I’m not going to judge…
Jackson Downey reply to Skyler Mason: I’M going to judge
Skyler Mason reply to Jackson Downey: *middle finger emoji* I have two words for you: Mrs. Butterworth’s
Jackson Downey reply to Skyler Mason: A bottle that’s shaped like a lady and filled with syrup? I stand a hundred percent behind that
Sullivan Stapleton reply to Jackson Downey: I’m never eating breakfast with you again
As glad as I am that the conversation has moved on and they’re no longer giving me shit about Will, there’s still something I need to make clear.
Spencer Cox: Okay, so I didn’t mean to let that slip about Will but now you know I guess it shouldn’t need saying that the info doesn’t leave this chat. I know dating an employee isn’t the best idea, especially after everything that’s happened, so we just need some time to figure things out
A stream of reassurances come through from my buddies, each one making me smile. They really are the best guys.
14
Will
* * *
“No, honey, I said to dice them. That’s not dicing.”
I glance down at the pile of haphazardly chopped carrots on the cutting board in front of me. “Close enough. It’ll taste the same.”
My mom just shakes her head and returns to her own task of browning the meat in a skillet on the stove.
“Okay, I think this is done,” she says, turning off the heat. “Can you pass me that dish?”
She gestures with her head toward the glass casserole dish that’s sitting on the counter and I retrieve it for her. She uses tongs to transfer the chicken pieces from the skillet to the casserole dish, which is a task I know must frustrate her considering it used to be no problem at all to simply pick the heavy pan up by the handle. But she’s getting better at making these little adjustments.
I pour all my chopped vegetables into the dish after the chicken, then add some garlic and spices before Mom pours in the stock. She covers the bowl with its lid and opens the oven for me so I can set the casserole inside.
“Thanks, honey,” Mom says, brushing a kiss against my cheek. “Why don’t you go get out of your work clothes? This won’t be ready for an hour or so.”
“Didn’t you want me to help with the potatoes?”
She waves me away with her good hand. “You can do that when you get back.”
With a shrug I leave the kitchen and head to my room, grabbing up some sweats and a t-shirt before stepping into the bathroom for a quick shower.
When I return to the living room, I stop dead in my tracks, stunned at the sight of Spencer standing in my kitchen peeling and chopping potatoes while my mom spiels off instructions.
“Um…what’s…?” I can’t even get a proper question out, still completely baffled as I hesitantly approach the counter.
Spencer glances up from his task to offer me a beaming smile. “Hey!”
“What are you doing here? In my kitchen…cutting potatoes…”
His lips twitch and his eyes dance with amusement; he’s clearly getting enjoyment out of my awkward reaction. “You left your scarf at the office,” he says, gesturing with his head to the item in question, which is neatly folded on the end of the counter. “I thought you might need it.”
“Isn’t that nice of Spencer to come all the way here to drop that off for you, Will?” My mom says, gazing at Spencer with cartoon hearts in her eyes.
“It was very nice,” I say, offering a wry smile. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
I nod to the potatoes on the cutting board in front of him. “You want me to take over now?”
“Nah, I’ve got it. I’m going to show Claire how she can make mashed potatoes in the Thermo-mix.”
My brows shoot up and I turn to my mom, who’s still smiling fondly at Spencer. It’s not like she wasn’t grateful for the gesture of the expensive kitchen gadget—she definitely was—but she hasn’t actually used it yet, citing it as “too complicated” and “not the same as actual cooking.”
“Wow, that sounds great.”
“Well, I’ll leave you boys to it for a moment,” Mom says, slipping out of the kitchen.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“To get changed. I have that meeting after dinner, remember?”
“Oh, right. Do you need any help?” I offer.
She stares at me, completely aghast. “William! I do not need help dressing myself!”
I hold my hands up in a placating gesture. “My bad, just trying to be nice.”
Once she’s out of earshot, I lean toward Spencer, resting my forearms on the counter. “She could have easily changed after dinner—she wants to look nice for you.”
He offers a wide grin. “I’m flattered.”
“So, you came all the way to Brooklyn to give me my scarf, huh?” I ask, brows raised skeptically.
“I may have had an ulterior motive…” He leans forward so he’s in the same position I am, with his forearms braced against the countertop.