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Trina cautiously knocked on the door and listened for stirring inside. Spencer had texted her the address and told her to come by ASAP, but gave no more information than that. Having gotten to know Spencer so well, Trina was a large percentage apprehensive and a larger percent intrigued. When the door swung open to reveal her boyfriend standing proudly behind it, her intrigue only grew.
“Trina!” Spencer exclaimed.
“Hi!” she said quietly, crossing the threshold inside. “You invited me here; why do you sound surprised?”
“Not surprised at all. Excited.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her head.
Trina returned the embrace, no less confused than when she first got the text and made her way across town to the top floor of Harbor View Towers. “Why are we here? What is this place?”
“This?” Spencer said, breaking the embrace and gesturing to space around them, replete with marble floors and floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the harbor, empty except for a single chaise lounge partially covered in cloth. “This is home.”
Trina’s eyes widened in excitement and her mouth gaped open. “You got your own place?”
Spencer nodded his head slowly, a sense of pride overcoming him. He was relieved by her excitement.
“It’s a beautiful space, Spencer. I didn’t know you were looking–”
“It was time. It was past time. I’m an adult. I’ve got money burning a hole in my pocket, might as well spend it, right?” He sidled up to her and slipped his hands around her waist. “And, I want you to have a place where you feel comfortable. This is as much your home as it is mine.” And as if by magic, Spencer produced a key from behind Trina’s ear.
“I don’t understand,” Trina said, staring at the key. There was panic bubbling in her chest. She loved the place their relationship was in, especially after everything they’d been through the last two years. But, she wasn’t sure she was ready for the step he was presenting.
“It’s yours…to keep. To come and go as you please. You’ve been back and forth like the most glamorous homeless person I’ve ever seen. I know you’re still working out things with your family and with Joss, so I just wanted some place where you can feel...settled.” Spencer paused, watching the anxiety drain from Trina’s face. “What do you think?”
Trina took a look around at the expanse of the living room, nodding her head with increased excitement, utterly relieved by Spencer’s explanation. Truth be told, she had been feeling a little unsettled having not returned home since her mother’s wedding when it was revealed that the father she had known her entire life may not be her father after all. And, she was grateful for Joss’ mom allowing her to stay at their house, but her friendship with Joss was becoming a bit strained as a result. Having a third option, especially one as magnificent as this one, could be a good thing. She turned to Spencer who was staring at her pensively. “Give me the grand tour.”
“Gladly,” he offered Trina his elbow as he led her around the apartment. “This room is for my brother…whenever he comes to visit,” Spencer said with such melancholy. “I’ve hired a decorator to help make it feel more like home.”
Trina scoffed. “Please don’t tell me it’s the same person who decorated Wyndemere.”
“Oh, God no.”
“Good,” Trina giggled. She turned her attention to a door across from where they stood and gave Spencer a knowing glance. “And this?
Spencer obliged, opening the tall wooden door to the large primary bedroom, which had its own view of the harbor. Trina rushed in and twirled around in the emptiness of the space. “It’s so spacious,” she said.
“And it has an ensuite,” Spencer added proudly, gesturing towards the open door through which Trina could peep marbled tile floor bleeding into what she imagined was the wall of the shower stall.
“Fancy, “ Trina teased. She turned around to face the windows, where the harbor lights shined off the water, which faded into the black sky. “Is that…?” She pointed to faint lights in the distance, breaking through the monochrome.
“Wyndemere? Yes.”
“This is a beautiful view,” Trina said quietly.
“It is,” Spencer agreed, staring at Trina staring out the window. He walked over and embraced her from behind.
“I’m proud of you,” Trina said.
“I am, too. Are you happy?”
Trina turned to face him, her expression suddenly serious. “I am. Are you happy?”
Spencer took a long moment to stare into her eyes before planting a kiss on her lips. “I am happy. Very, very happy. And very, very hungry.”
At that, Trina laughed. “Is the fridge as empty as the rest of this place?” she chided.
“You know it is. Besides, the only thing I learned to make while working at Kelly’s was a BLT.
“Ooh, Cam’s specialty!” Trina exclaimed, to which Spencer scoffed in mock indignation. “I could really go for a BLT,” Trina said.
“Already on it,” Spencer said, whipping out his phone to order takeout.
While Spencer ordered, Trina excused herself to look through the rest of the apartment. Unsurprisingly, they had not made it to the kitchen, which she was sure would not get much use. Still, it was fit for a gourmet, with tall, dark walnut cabinets and stone countertops, with an island that seated six. Trina took in the scene, peeked inside the French door refrigerator, empty but for a bottle of champagne presumably left by the agent.
Spencer ended his call and met her in the kitchen. “It’ll be a little while. Kelly’s is a bit…understaffed since Cam bailed on ‘em”
“Also known as ‘living his dream’.”
“Yeah, well, whatever… Unless, you want me to order from someplace else?”
Trina walked over to him, tilting her head high to meet his gaze. “No, I can wait.”
“The new place is so empty,” Spencer mused, planting kisses in various spots on Trina’s neck. “What should we do while we wait? “
“I’m sure you can think of something,” Trina challenged, lending herself to his kisses.”
“Well, I do have the Wordle app on my phone. I could destroy you a few times before the food arrives,” Spencer teased.
“Boy, stop!,” Trina shot back playfully.
“What? You don’t think I can beat you, or…”
“That’s not even the game I’m trying to play,” Trina wrapped her arms around Spencer’s neck and lifted herself to his lips. She closed her eyes and took a long, deep exhale into him. She had not thought about it quite like that, but Trina had kept so much tension in her body regarding Spencer and his previous living arrangements with his ex-girlfriend and her child at his grandmother’s house like some little twisted family spawned from recesses of hell…and considering the stock from which they all had come…
Trina shuddered to think, shaking the image of the three of them from her brain. Baby Ace was innocent, regardless of who his parents were. He deserved to be happy and to feel safe and loved, and if that meant that Spencer and Esme had to shack up to attain that, well, who was she to stand in the way of that?
Trina broke away from the kiss and the embrace, startling Spencer’s eyes wide.
“Trina, what’s wrong?” he asked, concerned.
“What does this mean for your quest to get custody of Ace? I thought the whole point of you staying with Esme was to make sure your brother was safe and show that you can be a more responsible guardian for Ace?”
“And what better way to prove that I’m responsible than by providing my brother with a safe, comfortable home, where he’ll have a room of his own and space to grow. My grandmother’s place is rather crowded these days, tensions are flaring between Esme & baby Helena–”
Trina interrupted with laughter.
“What?” Spencer asked, amused.
“Baby Helena? Don’t talk about your cousin Charlotte that way! She’s hardly as bad as your great grandmother.”
“Which is why I said ‘baby’. Just give her time. Anyway, she’s giving Esme a hell of a time, which I find amusing; my grandmother and Kevin are always trying to play peacemakers, but it’s not an environment I want to continue to live in, let alone raise Ace in.”
Trina’s bemusement gave way to concern. “You should be so proud of yourself. I’m proud of you–”
“But?”
“No, no but. Not really. It’s just that I feel so relieved that you’re moving out on your own and away from Ace–”
“And, Esme?”
Trina nodded, diverting her eyes from his. It wasn’t jealousy as much as resentment that after everything she had put Trina and her friends through, she still got–at least for a time–the picture of happily ever after Trina wanted for herself. Okay, she reasoned, it reads a bit like jealousy.
“I hate to think you’re distancing yourself from your brother and diminishing your chance for custody just to appease me.”
Spencer sat down on the chaise, grabbing her hand and pulling her until she was seated crosswise on his lap. “Trina, I want to tell you a not so secret secret.”
Trina looked up at him in anticipation.
“I will do anything for you.”
Trina nudged her head under his chin.
“It took me a while to see it, but I know this entire situation has made you…uncomfortable, to say the least. I’ve been consumed with cleaning up my father’ mess and trying not to repeat the mistakes he made with me with Ace. I don’t know where my father is–what reason is valid enough for him to remove himself from the lives of his family, especially his children. That’s not the man I know, and I hope that man returns one day. And in all this time that I’ve been cosplaying as Nikolas Cassadine, the role of Spencer Cassadine remained unfilled. It’s as if I stepped out of your life the same way my father did mine and Ace’s. And I know it’s not the exact same–I mean, I don’t occupy the same space in your life as my father does in mine–”
“I get what you mean.” Trina said softly, stroking the arm he had placed like a sash around her.
“I don’t want you to ever doubt what you mean to me. And I realized that I need to show you that in deed as much as in words. Hence,” Spencer looked around his new apartment with a smirk.” Then, he looked at her, furrowing his brow in all seriousness. “But, in case you need to hear the words, and because they’ve been eating at me for weeks…months…hell, maybe since the moment I laid eyes on you in Ava”s gallery two years ago, I want to say to you…I want you to know…I love you.” Spencer exhaled sharply with a snicker, and the moments after in the silence were a conglomeration of agony and relief. He had finally said the words to the woman he most wanted to hear them, but what would be her response?
Trina lifted up, craning her neck so that her lips could connect with his. She ran her hand through his hair, pulling him, desperately, into her. He had said the words she knew had been biting at the tip of his tongue for ever. But even more than that, he had heard her unspoken call to action. To take the steps she knew were necessary towards him becoming his own man. To consider how those steps affected the people in his life, including her. She had not wanted to draw a line in the sand and have him choose between his brother and her. She had just wanted a way where they could both occupy space in his life without the outside noise or the presence of a person who had done her such harm, whether that person remembered it or not.
Trina peeled herself away from him to catch her breath. “Thank you,” she managed.
“You’re welcome. For what?”
“For hearing me. For seeing me. For loving me.”
Spencer leaned his forehead onto hers. “I’m just glad it wasn’t too late.”
Just then, there was a knock at the door. Spencer got up to answer it in a huff. It was the delivery guy from Kelly’s with their dinner.
“I’m sorry–how did you get up here?” Spencer questioned in his usual, snarky rich boy way.
“One of your neighbors let me in,” the delivery guy retorted.
Spencer pulled some bills from his pocket and thrust them at the man with one hand while grabbing the bag of food with the other.
“I’ll have to talk to management about the top notch security,” answered Spencer, sardonically.
“Enjoy your food,” the delivery guy said, waving a hand over his shoulder as he turned to leave, unfazed.
Spencer shut the door and walked over to Trina, now seated on the floor next to the chaise.
“I’m so sorry we have to eat on the floor.” Spencer said with a shrug.
“Well, tomorrow, we’ll go shopping for furniture. Tonight, let’s just eat, because I’m starving!”
Spencer plopped down on the floor opposite of Trina and spread out their take. Trina picked up half of her BLT and held it in the air. “To fun times in your new place,” she laughed, toasting the half of Spencer’s BLT that he, following her lead, held in the air.
“To you, making this new place feel more like home already,” Spencer followed, taking a big bite out of his sandwich.
Trina watched as Spencer demolished his food like a ravished hen; the utter joy on his face as he took bite after bite until it was gone. He looked so content. So much lighter than he had in months, and given all that had happened in that time, she was grateful.
“How’s your BLT?” Spencer asked.
“Not as good as Cam’s, but it did the trick.” She laughed. Spencer rolled his eyes, and gathered the empty wrappers and cartons and placed them inside the bag the food had been delivered in. He looked around in earnest.
“Item number one on the shopping list: trash can.” He laughed.
“And, where would you go to buy something like that?” Trina teased.
“Well, I’m sure there are stores that sell trash cans.”
“Yes, there are. And where would one find one such store?”
“Trina, I’m not totally out of the loop…” he said, reaching for his phone. “I can totally figure out where to buy a trash can.” He took a minute or two to scroll through his phone. “See,” he said, thrusting it at her.
“Spencer,” Trina said bemused. “This trash can is $300.”
“Is that bad? I mean, they have one on here for twice that, but I kind of like the shape of this one and how it opens without you having to touch it.”
Trina laughed, removing the phone from his hand and placing it on the floor beside her. “Let’s worry about that later,” she said, lifting to her knees so that her nose was in line with his. “I have something better in mind.”
Spencer’s breath caught in his chest. He knew what she meant. And, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t factor into his decision to get his own abode, but this isn’t how he wanted things to unfold.
Reading his thoughts, Trina grabbed his chin in her hand. “I already told you: it’s not the ‘where’, it’s not the ‘when’, it’s the ‘who’. For the longest time, I was afraid of my feelings because they were so new to me, so strong, awakening parts of me I didn’t know existed. Trina raised up and slipped her T-shirt over her head. “I want you, Spencer”, she continued. “Right here. Right now.”
Spencer exhaled the breath he had been holding, taking in the soft supple chocolate beauty of the woman in front of him. He lifted himself to his knees, never having taken his eyes off of her, scanning her body as if to imprint every inch of it on his brain. He reached out slowly, grazing her stomach, which flinched at the softness of his touch.
“I’m sorry,” he said, jerking back his hand.
“Don’t be.” She grabbed his hand and placed it on her torso. Maybe it was her imagination, maybe a bit of projection, but she swore she could feel his heartbeat, an electrical conduit running all the way down his arm and into her. “I want you to touch me.” She moved his hand up to her breast, unsure from where this sudden burst of courage and sexual gravitas had come.
Spencer clenched his jaw tightly, his eyes closing as if to magnify his sense of touch. Her skin was so soft and warm. Under his own power, his hand made its way to her neck and he pulled her into a kiss, first on her eyelid, then her cheek and finally, her lips, which she slightly parted to make way for his tongue, hot, wet and stiff against her own.
They breathed into each other, two engines, running on empty, desperate to outgun the other. He had dreamed of this more often than he cared to admit. Her in his arms. Him inside her, as close as two people can be. As close, physically and emotionally, as he had ever been to another soul. In his more honest times, he worried that he wouldn’t be enough for her; that they’d share the most intimate of moments and it would leave her unfulfilled. He imagined the glint of disappointment in her eyes, the awkward encounters afterward. Trina was gracious; she would never say the words; would never do anything to make him feel inadequate.
“Oh,” Trina moaned as Spencer’s hand traced a line down from her throat to the button of her jeans, which he undid with one quick movement. She felt the tug of her pantyline and his fingers feel their way through the tight space her jeans allotted, Spencer intently kissing one set of lips and fondling the other. Trina was surprised at the fact that her body seemed to be on autopilot, syncing its movements against Spencer’s until it filled with a tension she could no longer contain. “Oh my God,” she said, wrapping her arms around him and burying her head against his shoulder. She breathed heavily and shuddered as his fingers continued to dial against her.
“Are you okay?” Spencer asked.
Trina nodded, her head still fused to his shoulder. Spencer smiled and stood up, pulling Trina to her feet and towards the chaise. He paused, carefully reading her eyes to see if she wanted to continue. Sensing his hesitation, Trina reached forward and grabbed the bottom of Spencer’s shirt, pulling it up over his head. As he worked to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants, Trina went about the work of planting kisses over the expansive, sculpted haven of his bare chest. He grabbed a handful of her hair, pulling her head back slightly so that he could taste her lips again. Trina tugged her jeans down and stepped out of them, standing before him as exposed as she ever had been to anyone in her whole life. Spencer followed suit, then reached out to lift her in an embrace. Trina wrapped her legs tightly around his waist and, kissing her, he laid her down gently on the chaise.
And he could live right there: the picture of her looking up at him with such desire and anticipation. The scent of her on his fingers, which lingered in the slight waft of air between them. The sound of her breathing and moaning filling his eardrums. The pulses of her body beating like a drum against his.
Or, he could create, with her, a new reality. One with a clearer lens. An even brighter, sharper image. One in which he saw himself in the same light she did: that he was worthy of loving and having that love returned, without condition. That he could strip himself naked, bear even the shadowy, sinister sinews of himself and still be wanted by her, welcomed by her, invited into her. Spencer fell to his knee, placing it between hers spread on the chaise and reached up to take off her black lace panties. He kissed the ankle of the one leg that he threw over his shoulder as he lowered his face down into her lap. He closed his eyes and breathed her in. He kissed her softly and felt the supple flesh of her labias flush with blood.
Trina let out a slight moan, her fingers tangled in Spencer’s hair, her hands encouraging him to keep going. And he was happy to oblige, his personal goal being to make her make that sound again and again and again. He used the tip of his tongue to encircle her every fold, her hips tight in his grip.
Trina writhed in pleasure, pressing herself against his face until he found it hard to breathe. He came up for a brief sip of air before diving in again, his face awash with her. Her mind was a whir of sensations and emotions and her movements, her moans and her breaths quickened to a crescendo before her body trembled and stilled. Trina lay there, catching her breath and relishing the moment. She looked down to see Spencer’s eyes staring at her. He kissed his way back up her body, reaching her lips and lingering there momentarily.
“Are you okay?” Spencer asked, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead.
Her lids hung heavy over her bright brown eyes and a smile crept slowly across her lips. She felt feather-light. Intoxicated. And, she wanted more. Trina grabbed at him, pulling him down until his chest rested against hers, his muscles tight, his skin warm. She nuzzled his neck, reveled as he groaned at the static charge that raised the hairs on both of their skin as they touched. Her hand followed the curves of his back, his butt, as far down as she could reach until she summoned the courage to let them burrow through the tight space between them; between the give of his stretch cotton boxer briefs and…him. She grabbed it hurriedly. Clumsily, at first, until it found its fit in the cup of her palm. She found a rhythm, moving her hand up and down the length of him, him moaning his approval in her ear. In her grip, she could feel the little pulsations arising forcing him to separate himself from her.
Trina was startled. “Did I do something wrong?”
Spencer grinned, nervously, running his hand through his hair. “No, no. It’s just that…do you want to–” crumbing his words, hoping she’d pick up the trail.
“I want to,” she said.
And with that, Spencer slid off his underwear, revealing himself fully to her for the first time. Oddly, he did not feel nervous or self-conscious. As vulnerable as he was in that moment, he felt strangely empowered. He lowered himself to her slowly, guided himself inside her and rested for the slightest second, as the warmth of her gripping around him sent a chill throughout his entire body.
Trina let out an audible gasp then, pulling him into an embrace as they worked to find a rhythm, worked-–like water or air—to fill up all of the tiny holes, all of the uninhabited spaces that they could discover in each other. When it was over, both breathless, brains whirring, Spencer rested his head at Trina’s breast while she caressed his back.
“Are you okay?” Spencer asked.
“Yes,” Trina answered quietly.
“Are you happy?”
Trina smiled and placed a kiss on the top of his head. Could feel the beat of his heart against her chest, the chill of his inhales and heat of his exhales against her skin. Could still feel the specter of him inside her, and wondered how long it would last–the utter contentment of feeling and being this close to another human being. This loved. This understood.
“Very,” she replied, closing her eyes and letting the moment fade comfortable silence into sleep in the new familiarity of that apartment overlooking the dark harbor and the Port Charles night.