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“Sylar,” he says, shifting on his feet. “He doesn’t usually show interest. In anyone, or anything… and—”
“I’m not going to hurt your brother, Spencer,” I say, assuming that is what he’s getting at, but as the words leave my mouth, I realize how egotistical they sound, like I’m assuming I have the power to do so. “If that’s what you’re getting at.”
“Yeah, okay,” he says, but still looks a little worried, his brow furrowed. “I’m glad he’s actually speaking to you and everything, I just don’t want it to backfire.” He puts his hands up. “Not saying that you don’t seem like a nice girl…. Ah, fuck. I’m messing this up, aren’t I? And if he finds out I said anything, the bastard will kill me with his bare hands.”
“You don’t want what to backfire?” I ask, brow furrowing.
“Him opening up,” he says, wincing. “And me encouraging it.”
My lip twitches. “It’s okay, Spencer. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
“Good,” he says, smiling as I slide his coffees over to him. He tries to pay, but I don’t accept it, just like I did with Sylar today.
“On the house.”
He leaves the money on the table. “Not happening. Thank you, though.”
I roll my eyes. Sylar did the exact same thing. I walk him to the door, then lock it behind him.
He wants to protect Sylar from me?
I think it’s me who is going to need the protecting.
