Larger Than Life by Alison Kent (read the beginning after the end novel .txt) 📕

Spencer sat up then, swung his legs over the side of the bed and faced her, his big hands gripping the ball, his elbows on his knees. "I think I asked you about that. About dredging up all that shit not being the best way to get it out of your head."

"Oh, no, baby. I don't mean what we did." Eyes closed, she pressed her fingertips to her temples, smiled to get her bearings, and tried again. "I mean I messed things up with you. And me."

"I didn't think there was a you and me," he said, his voice pitched deep and low.

"I didn't think there could be." She opened her eyes and looked at him then. At his irises, which almost matched the green in the living room color scheme. At his lips, which she knew so well and wanted to feel again, to taste again, to see smile. At his hands, which appeared to belong to the football he held.

He had such a huge future in front of him. She wondered what she'd been thinking coming here. "I'm still not sure there can be."

He shook his head, stared at the ball. "I don't get you, Candy. I really don't."

"Then I guess I'm doing a damn fine job with the mysterious older woman thing," she said and winked.

"You're doing a damn fine job screwing with my head." He pushed to his feet, walked around her to the room's window. "If that's what you wanted to hear ..."

She got up and followed, standing behind him and hesitating only a few seconds before she slid her arms around his waist and pressed her body to his back. "You're such a beautiful boy, Spencer Munroe. I never wanted to hurt you. Why would I when everything about you is good?"

He snorted, and he didn't touch her. But neither did he push her away.

"I'm serious," she said, slipping around to stand in front of him. "You're honest and kind and loving. You're fun. A talented athlete. You're also sexy as hell."

Another snort, but his face colored, and she knew the sound was more about being embarrassed than mad. She brought up her fingers, gently cupped his face.

"Hurting you makes no sense, baby. Not when being with you makes me happy." She stopped to swallow the knot of insecurity balled up in her throat. "And makes me think there might be more to me than the ability to string beads on a wire."

This time, before he frowned down, before he placed his palms on her shoulders, he tossed the football to the bed. Candy heard it bounce on the bedspread, but most of all she heard the hitch in Spencer's breathing. Unless what she had heard was the hitch in her own.

"I know you don't want to hear this, Candy—"

Please don't say it. Please say it. Please say it. Please don't.

"—but I love you." His Adam's apple dipped up and down as he swallowed. His expressive eyes darkened like a forest of pine. "I've never said that to any girl. Ever. And I didn't plan to say it to you." His voice softened and shook. "Not when you were always blowing off talking about yourself. I didn't want to love a girl I didn't know."

And now she couldn't see him at all because of her own silly tears. "Why would you want to love me now when you know everything?"

He slid his arms around her, pulled her to his chest. His heart beat beneath her ear like it was trying to hip and hop right out of his chest and into hers to dance. "You trusted me enough to tell me what you've never told anyone but Neva. I may be a hick and I may be young, but I'm not stupid. I know what that means."

"Then maybe you could tell me?" She laughed, she sobbed. She was ruining the makeup she'd spent so much time on.

She'd wanted to come here looking her best, to come here being her best. To show her beautiful boy that what he'd learned about her wasn't all of who she was. That it didn't change anything about the things he made her feel. That driving him away just seemed easier to bear than watching him run when he discovered her past.

"It means that I'm more to you than a good fuck," he said, chuckling a little bit. "And I think that means you're going to miss me."

"Oh, baby. I am. I so am." She pulled away then, looked up and smiled. "But I'm thrilled that you're going. School's going to be the best decision you've ever made. Well, besides dating me."

He gave a one-shouldered shrug. "I'm not sure it wasn't made for me. I play football. It's what I do. What I've always done. Just like you string beads."

She slapped at his shoulder. "I do a lot more than string beads, and you know it."

"God, Candy." A shudder ran through his body, and he hooked an elbow around her neck and pulled her close. "School may be the best decision, but leaving you is going to be the hardest."

"You have to promise me something, Spencer," she said, breathing him in, memorizing everything about the way they fit, knowing she'd remember forever his tenderness. "You can't think about me. Not about hurting me, or about how I'd feel about what you're doing. Once you leave, you're free."

"And if I come back?"

"To visit? Or for good?"

"Either. Both."

"Well, we'll see." It was all she'd let herself promise. She was young, but he was younger. Neither of them needed a heavy commitment when they both had so much growing up to do. But something less binding would be nice. "Spencer?"

"Candy?"

She smiled to herself. "Would you go out with me tonight?"

Canting his upper body away from hers, he frowned down. "Out? Like on a date?"

Teasingly wide-eyed, she looked up and nodded. "Dinner and dancing."

"Around here? You've got to be kidding."

"Not around here, no. I thought we could drive