Chapter 15

Spencer was enveloped in someone's arms. They held her close to a man's chest as sunlight poured in from her bedroom window. She felt safe, a calm wave washing over her. After the physical night she'd had, being in his arms simply felt right.

"Good morning, my love," Carlisle whispered as he placed a kiss on her head. "Last night was fun."

"It was, wasn't it?" Spencer smiled. "I've missed you – us."

"So have I. I can't believe we spent so much time apart."

"Well, that was entirely your fault."

"I know," he chuckled. "But I'm here now, darling. And I don't plan on going anywhere."

"How are you here though?" Spencer spoke in a hushed voice. "I truly doubt Sam would allow you to cross the treaty line."

"Don't you worry yourself over that, my love," he smiled. The bright and gleaming smile she knew and loved. "Nothing could keep me from you. Not even a treaty I made decades ago. I told you, I'm not going anywhere."

"You could go somewhere though," she turned to him. "The kitchen. To make breakfast because I am very tired."

"Of course," Carlisle responded with a smile. "Why don't you rest some more while I cook? I'll come to wake you up when I'm done."

Spencer closed her eyes again, enjoying the feeling of the sheets against her skin. She rolled onto the side of the bed where Carlisle had just been laying on, relishing on the coldness his body had left and the sweet smell of his skin. It was a space she had no problem spending the rest of her life in.

Until she woke up and the coldness that enveloped her came from the starting winter season. Spencer was by herself in her bed. No comforting sunlight spilled through the window, no strong arms that cradled her, no scent that permeated from Carlisle's body.

Instead, she had a headache.

A pounding headache.

Spencer woke the next morning to the most painful headache of her life as a companion. Sure, she had woken up with a hangover more often than not during that month, but this was so much worse. Almost as comparable to the concussion that had started this whole fiasco.

She was certain she would not be able to go to work. Everything in the hospital was a reminder of the man that had broken her heart, and she had a mind-splitting headache. Dreaming of him had reminded her of the aching emptiness she felt inside.

It was hard to remember what had happened the day before. All she knew was that she had downed enough bottles of vodka to make her head feel heavy and throbbing. Thankfully, on her side table rested a bottle of aspirin and a glass of water.

As quickly as she noticed them there, she downed two pills and chugged the liquid. Spencer could feel how the water traveled into her empty stomach. It settled weirdly in her, but at least it stayed down long enough for her to call out of work for the rest of the week.

The girl needed a break. She had been stuck on autopilot for a little under two months and she had yet to take a second to herself that wasn't blacked out by an alcohol-induced spiral. And as flashes of the night before started to flood her mind, she knew it was time for one.

Embarrassed was an understatement of what she felt. If the dream she had was a testament to anything it was that she felt lonely – her body felt lonely. But throwing herself on her best friend as she had, manipulating whatever it was that he felt for her, and then twisting the knife inside him by saying she would go to any other man that was open and willing to have her. Spencer had crossed a line with Paul, and she knew he deserved an apology.

Though, she did analyze what her subconscious self wanted. She had heard many times that the best way to get over someone was by getting under someone else. And although she was still new at maneuvering all types of physical and emotional relationships, her interest in a no-strings relationship grew by the second.

As her headache slowly subsided, Spencer rolled out of her bed and got ready to apologize to her best friend. But not before getting rid of whatever booze she had left over. What she felt that morning was not something she wanted to revisit any time soon. If she was going to move on, she had to start somewhere.

Spencer took a shower and changed her clothes. Her head was dead set on finding Paul and apologizing for what she had done. It made her whole body heat up in remorse. She'd treated him like a body to be used rather than the human being he was. She regretted everything she had said and done whilst grieving and under the influence of alcohol.

There weren't many places Paul could be. If she didn't find him at Sam's house, he was either patrolling or by the beach. It was nearing mid-November and she doubted he'd be at the latter, so she started her search at her brother's home.

Her hands were shaking and her heart was hammering against her chest as she knocked softly against the wooden door. Though she knew it was unnecessary, and anyone inside would know that she was outside before she ever rapped on the door, she needed to at least feel a certain form of normalcy.

"Spence," Sam said as he opened the door. "It's good to see you again. It's been a while."

"I know," she replied sheepishly. "A lot has happened, you know?"

"Of course, I just meant..."

"It's fine, Sam. I was actually looking for Paul."

"Well, he's out on patrol for now, but you're welcome to wait for him here," he told her. "We could catch up."

"Uh, sure."

Spencer followed her brother into his house, settling on the couch she had broken down almost two months before. She could see herself crumbling on that spot, sobbing against her best friend's chest for a man that had not given her a second thought. The same man that had her falling down an alcohol-induced spiral.

He had taken so much from her already. She had put her life on hold, her plans. She had hurt her friend, she had distanced herself from her family, and she had harmed herself. Everything she had started to plan for her life had been thrown out the window when Carlisle broke her heart.

"So, how are you, bean?" He wrapped an arm around her, and she rested her head on his shoulder, allowing herself the comfort of being close to her brother. "I feel like it's been forever.

She knew Sam was aware of what had happened. There was no way Paul would have been able to hide the events of the night before from the supernatural link the wolves had. But she would pretend he didn't, just like he was doing.

"I've been better, honestly," Spencer sighed. "But I'm done feeling sorry for myself. He's taken enough from me already and it's time to put my life back on track." "

"I'm glad to hear that, Spence. You deserve to be happy," Sam said before placing a kiss on the top of his sister's head. "You've given enough of yourself to that bloodsucker."

"Don't call him that, Sam."

"We hate him, don't we? We're supposed to hate him."

"That doesn't mean you should call him those types of names," she retorted. "We should simply not mention him anymore. Turn the page on this chapter already."

"Fine. I won't say shit about him when you're around, bean. But I can't promise I'll keep that whenever you're not here."

"That's all I can ask, Sam," Spencer said, a relieved smile on her face. "I've been in a really dark place and I want to move past it all. I want my life to go back to everything I had planned before him. Before everything with him."

"Good. He doesn't deserve anything that you've already given him," Sam responded sternly. "Now, tell me about your plan."

Her brother was right. That man did not deserve anything from her, never had. But she had been too blinded by love. Her first love, her first kiss, her first everything. Because even if he didn't deserve it, she had given him everything she was.

As Spencer lay on the couch, her head on her brother's shoulder, telling him of where she saw her life going, she believed she could go back to that version that had not known anything about Carlisle Cullen. And for a second she believed it, for a split second, she really believed she'd be able to go back to that Spencer.

At some point, she had drifted to sleep, the past sleepless nights catching up to her. The sun was already going down, the light casting a warm hue over the room. The house was quiet, aside from the crackling of logs on the fireplace. It was too quiet until a creak caught her attention.

"Paul," she breathed out.

"Hey, did I wake you? I didn't want to."

"No," Spencer chuckled. She sat up straight on the couch, motioning for him to sit next to her. "We should talk, Paul. About what happened."

"We don't have to, Spence. I get what you're going through."

"We do," she responded. "Look, what I did yesterday completely crossed the line. What I did, using your own feelings against you, was a complete abuse of power. Even if I was under the influence, and I didn't mean a single thing, it doesn't make up for the fact that I said those things to you. And I understand if you never forgive me and want me as far away as poss..."

"Spencer, stop," Paul smiled. His tone wasn't laced with the hatred she thought it would be. Instead, his words were sewn with love and compassion – things she did not deserve from him. "I know what you said came from a place of pain. As someone who's quick to anger, I understand saying things in the heat of the moment to hurt someone. What you've been through, it's one of the worst heartaches anyone could go through in their lives. You gave up a whole life with someone. He broke your heart and you've been trying to put yourself back together on your own."

"It still doesn't excuse what I did and said, Paul. I weaponized your feelings and used them to hurt you."

"Again, I understand why you did it, Spence. I didn't take it to heart."

"But you should have!" Spencer was growing frustrated. Paul should have been angry at her for what she did. He should have been yelling at her to get out of the house and never come back. Instead, he was being too understanding. "You should be angry at me. You shouldn't even be listening to my apology."

"So, you want me to get mad at you?"

"Yes...! No...! I don't know," she groaned out. "I just don't want you to be okay with what I did just because I've been hurt. You didn't deserve that."

And once more, instead of being met with anger, she was met by a hearty chuckle. Paul took Spencer's hands in his after wiping away the few stray tears that she didn't feel falling from her eyes.

"Look, Spencer, if you want me to be angry at you and if you want me to hate you for what happened last night, I'm sorry but I won't be," he smiled at her. "You've been through a lot and I understand why you did what you did. Did it hurt? Or course it hurt. But I could never hate you because of it. I don't think there's anything you can do that would ever make me hate you."

"And don't you think that's a problem? That I can hurt you like that and you still won't hate me?"

"Some people would call that love, Spence," he responded. "And don't get scared. You've been my best friend for almost my entire life. You've stuck by my side even when I was a shithead in middle school. You stuck by me when you found out I was a shapeshifter. And you forgave me when I hurt you – physically – months ago. Unlike me, you will always have a reminder of how I hurt you. I can forgive you, Spencer, in the same way you forgave me."

Spencer crashed into Paul's chest, pulling her friend in for a hug as she cried out whatever tears were still left inside her. Finally, she understood, he wasn't forgiving her out of pity. He forgave her out of love. Love for her, for their friendship. Her best friend forgave her because he was her best friend – simple as that.

"I don't deserve you," she murmured into his chest. "I don't deserve your kindness or your forgiveness. I don't even deserve your friendship."

"Oh, come on, Spence. I'm sure that at some point – probably in the near future – I'll need you to forgive me for something and you're going to have to remember this," Paul chuckled. "Let's just put yesterday behind us. Turn over a new leaf. What do you say?"

"That sounds perfect." Spencer smiled, her face still smushed against Paul's toned chest. As she breathed him in, the smell of pines and saltwater inundated her senses. It was a comforting scent that she hadn't noticed until now. "But, seriously, I'm so sorry for how I behaved yesterday."

"I forgive you, Spencer."

"You should also know that I threw away my stash," she added. "And I have a whole plan to get my life back on track."

"Alright," Paul said as he got comfortable on the couch, pulling her with him. Spencer's head lay on his chest, listening to the pitter-patter of his heart as a soothing white noise. "So, what's the plan."

Spencer related the same plan she had told Sam that morning. She was going to apply to medical school with the MCAT score she had gotten after she graduated. She had been studying as much as she could with the little spare time she had during her senior year. It had been a tough feat but a challenge she had proposed to herself just to see if she could pass. Before going back home, she took the test, and a month after she received a letter. Somehow, she had scored a 522 – something she was not expecting.

After she received that score whilst with Carlisle, she put medical school on the back burner. Most schools accepted a three-year-old MCAT, and she wanted to enjoy life without school for some time. Long before she had decided to take a break from her studies, her plan had always been to go to med school after graduating, have her residency at the St. Michael Medical Center, and hopefully one day be transferred to the hospital in Forks.

That was her before-Carlisle plan. Now, she would try to find a way to skip the first two years of med school – something no one had done – by using her work experience at the hospital as experience. Spencer was already doing more in the hospital than third-year students. Maybe, and it was a big maybe, she could do the impossible.

"So, what I'm hearing is that you want to throw yourself at school and work, somehow doing something as crazy as skipping over two years of med school," Paul recapped. His face was filled with shock, astonishment clear in his voice. "Honestly, you're just crazy enough to do it. But, what about your social life? You've already sacrificed it for four years. Are you ready to do that again?"

Spencer sat up at that. That was a part of her plan that she had not discussed with her brother. There were certain aspects of her life that were on a need-to-know basis, and he did not need to know.

"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about." It was her turn now to take Paul's hands in hers, forcing him to look at her directly in her teary eyes. "This is not the way I meant to ask you this – especially not after crying. But yesterday, you said you'd be open to a conversation about... you know."

"Casual sex," Paul stated matter-of-factly. She could tell there was a humorous grin tugging at his lips, but he understood the seriousness of their talk. "I remember."

"Well, how do you feel about that... with me?" Spencer felt heat rushing to her cheeks. Talking about this without the fake confidence alcohol brought her made everything that much more embarrassing. "I understand if it's not something you're interested in. I don't want to complicate the feelings you already have. If it's too much, it's fine. I just would rather do this with someone I knew and trusted. I can't imagine what it would be like if I tried to meet someone new to keep everything no strings. Honestly, it's..."

"Spence, you're rambling," he chuckled. He tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear, trying to comfort her fluttering heart. "Normally, I would jump at this opportunity. But, are you sure this is what you want? You don't seem to be the type to want a friends-with-benefits thing. I understand the friends part. But the benefits?"

"It's just, I trust you, Paul. And I trust that if things get too sentimental, you'll talk to me," Spencer responded. "I don't think I could do this with anyone but you. But if it's too much you don't have to agree. I don't want to give you hope that this will go any further."

"I get it, Spence," he sighed. He wasn't disappointed, he wasn't angry, he was simply understanding. "If this is something you really want, I am very open to the idea of it being with me. And, feelings, what feelings? They're locked away and have no chance of coming out. If they come out to ruin things, you'll be the first to know."

"Paul, you have to be 1000% sure this is something you can actually do," Spencer spoke sternly. "I really don't want to lose you as my friend."

"You're talking to the creator of casual, Spence," he grinned cockily. "Remember Amanda?"

Spencer laughed at the memory of the girl that gave Paul his player persona. "That's different, Paul. She liked you, not the other way around."

"And we're still friends to this day."

"Barely," she chuckled in response. "So, you're sure you are comfortable with a friends-with-benefits situation?"

"I don't know how else I can spell it out for you, Spence."

"Only if you're sure about it, Paul. Seriously, a thousand..."

Suddenly, Paul's lips were on her. His hands gripped her face and pulled her close to him, the same hunger she felt yesterday creeping back up. In an effort to breathe, she parted her lips allowing Paul's tongue to slip in. Their tongues moved in an almost perfect rhythm, always something missing. But it was good enough for the moment.

"Paul," she breathed as he traveled his lips to her jaw. "Wait, Paul."

"What's wrong?" Paul spoke between kisses. "I'm showing you just how sure I am."

"We're in Sam's house. Anyone can walk in," she spoke, still out of breath. "Predominantly, Sam could walk in."

"No one's here," he grinned. "Emily and Sam are grocery shopping." A kiss on her jaw. "Jared is out on patrol." A kiss on her neck. "All night. The house is ours."

"It's still my brother's house," she said as she pulled him off her body. "I don't feel comfortable doing this here. Especially since they'll smell us and what happened here. I should go home."

"O-okay," Paul stammered. "I just thought..."

"My mom's not home," she grinned kissing his jaw. "She won't be home." A kiss on his neck. "All night. The house is ours."