I stared at him, wondering where the hell he was going with this. Suddenly, this felt a lot less like a date and a whole lot like accidentally stepping barefoot into a patch of thistles. "Okay," I said slowly.
"But then it was howstupidhe was being about you that really just—" Spencer choked out his taco, like it was Rook's neck. "I want to throttle the idiot. He can't see what's right in front of him."
One side of my face scrunched up in confusion. "Spencer… what?"
"I know I'm not making a lot of sense, but he's a total madman, and I've got like thirty seconds," Spencer said, abandoning all pretense of eating now and putting his food and drink in the bag on the ground. He gave me a stare that had trickster written all over it. "I'm sorry for this. I am. But if you were a betting woman, would you put money down on Rook showing up here right now?"
I looked around the deserted greenhouse. Rain thundered against the windows, spilling down in rivulets and plopping offthe steel beams outside. The night had darkened completely, and what had been inviting and secluded before suddenly felt all wrong. "He's definitely not here," I commented with my brows furrowed. "What are you getting at?"
Spencer seemed to think for a moment. "I guess what I'm saying is, if he screws this up, then hopefully you'll forgive me. I don't mind being sloppy seconds."
"What?" I gusted out incredulously.
Suddenly, the door to the greenhouse slammed open, and a towering figure loomed in the doorway. I started, but Spencer didn't even flinch. "I should have made you bet. I win."
I stared at Rook as he let the glass door slam closed behind him. The rain had soaked through his shoulders, turning his white button-down translucent, and his disheveled hair had gone muted gold from the moisture. He'd already removed his tie at some point, apparently, and the first two buttons were undone like he'd been in the middle of undressing for the night before storming into the rain. I'd never seen him so… well, unbalanced.
He stalked across the greenhouse straight for us, his eyes more wolf-like and predatory than I'd ever seen them. "Agreenhouse?" he seethed.
Spencer relaxed back against the bench, tracing the curve of the storybook dragon's tail with his finger. "It's romantic. Isn't this romantic, Gemma?"
"She's going to get listeria eating in here," Rook argued.
Spencer snorted. "What?"
I glanced between the two of them with my lips puckered. "What is this? Are you two in a relationship or something?"
Spencer barked out a laugh, and Rook folded his arms, his biceps bulging under the starchy shirt. "He's not my type," Rook said.
"And whatisyour type?" Spencer challenged, sitting forward and nearly igniting the air between them with the dangerous spark in his eyes. "Please, enlighten us."
"Gemma," Knox said, ignoring his friend and hooking me with a stern look. "We're leaving."
"Is it atrap, maybe?" Spencer challenged. "Is that your type?"
"Iswhata trap?" I asked with dripping derision. "What the fuck is wrong with you two?"
But Spencer's words had apparently hit the big, red nuclear button on Rook's control panel because his patience snapped. I saw it visibly happen. His jaw tightened and he cracked his neck with a mutinous expression. "I have had more than enough games for one night. Get out, Gemma, or be taken out."
"I'm sorry, 'taken out?' What are you, the mafia? Are you going to sweep the leg or something?" I asked incredulously. "What the hell does that mean? I am on a date with a man Ichoseto be with, and you're acting like a petulant—agh!" I leaned back against the bench as Rook lunged for Spencer, grabbing two fistfuls of his black turtleneck and wrenching him to a standing position.
The men were well-matched in height, but Spencer didn't even fight it when Knox shook him. "Are you bored, Theo? Is that why you're picking fights? Because I'll give you a few injuries that will keep you busy."
"Oh myGod," I said, articulating each word and holding my hands out in disbelief. "What thefuck, Rook?"
Spencer didn't seem a bit affected by Knox's threat. "You seem awfully worked up about this date, buddy."
The more I looked at the two of them, the more I realized I'd been played. Straight up played. Spencer wasn't interested in me—at least, not enough to actually fight for a chance with me. He'd said something about "sloppy seconds" that made me want to take Rook's place and punch him square in the nose, but Idoubted he meant that. He'd wanted to goad his friend for some reason, and I had been the chess piece… so he could take out the rook. Unbelievable.
"Okay, I'm done." I stood, grabbing my coat and purse. "I do not need to put up with this shit. I hope you both kill each other."
"Wait, Gemma—" Spencer started, but Knox shook him again.
"I'm not done with you."
"Oh, for fuck's sake," I muttered. I fast-walked out of the greenhouse, slamming my hand against the glass door and charging out into the icy downpour. Sharp needles of driving rain sliced against my face and drenched my clothing almost immediately. I threw my coat over my head, hunching down to hide from the worst of it, but my clothing stuck to my body and moisture trickled down my bare arms. I'd parked a block and a half away, near the taco truck, and I had to cross the dark parking lot before I made it to the sidewalk.
In this part of Eugene, there were only a few streetlamps, and I jogged over to one near the crosswalk. The rain gusted down in thick sheets, slapping against my body as the wind carried it through the town like a roiling sea. I smacked the crosswalk button, but then suddenly, a strong hand pulled me away from the edge of the sidewalk. I turned to find Knox, completely drenched and clearly furious. Rain dripped off the tip of his nose and carved tiny streams across his face from the strands of hair plastered to his forehead.
