❝ YOU KNOW, YOU'RE RUDE. ❞
❝ WOW, YOU'RE LIKE A DETECTIVE OR SOMETHING. ❞
Scout Wiley has two sides. The loudmouth mailroom girl who hates coffee, and the trained assassin who never misses her target. Thanks to years of training, these lives hav...
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SCOUT SMILED AS her fingers traced the cover of the book in her hand.
Seeing as the white pages were stained yellow, it was tattered and old. But it didn't matter to her. It didn't matter that the words were fading or that the spine was broken.
What mattered was who the book came from; that being, the man sitting next to her with his always messy brown locks, sharp facial features, and soft chocolate colored eyes.
"Do you like it?" Spencer asked, his nervous smile bringing an ache to her heart.
"I love it, thank you." Giving him a quick peck on the cheek while grabbing hold of his calloused hand.
She stared back at the book. To be honest, Scout had never heard of the title beforehand. And she never was much of a reader ( certainly not to the extent of Spencer ) but her smile didn't falter for even a second.
The couple sat outside on the street curb, blocks away from Rossi's home as they had wandered with no destination. It wasn't as chilly of a night for February but the occasional gust of wind made her skin form into goosebumps.
"I know who you are, Scout Wiley." Spencer tucked a strand of her blowing hair behind her ear.
She scoffed, "I mean, I would hope so since we are sleeping together."
"Will you just -" He rolled his eyes and tried to suppress his chuckles, "Could you just - let me - you know - finish?"
Scout snickered behind her hand and tauntingly bowed, signaling for him to continue.
"I know who you are. And I know just how incompatible we are on paper. I mean, sometimes we can be so different that it feels like my brain has to take a step back and process everything that is happening around us. And the whole time I'm thinking, 'this girl actually wants to be with me, I just listed off the counties of the world and she's still here; she hasn't run away,' and it scares me that some day you just might."
Her smile softened, brown eyes melting into his, "I won't. Who you are and how you act are the reasons that I'm still around. You didn't just hook me with with those sweater vests and cardigans, or even that tacky ultraviolet scarf you think matches with everything you wear."
"And frankly Spencer, your dripping good looks won't last forever. Maybe mine will, but I can already see some Einstein wrinkles on your forehead."
"So," He smirked and nuzzled his face into the crevice between her neck and shoulder. "You think I'm dripping with good looks?"
