29. Grady
CHAPTER 29
GRADY
Spencer wakes me up by sliding her hand under the waistband of my boxer shorts and stroking my length, hard from my night’s sleep. Her body is warm next to me, and I want to soak in every second that I have with her. I could wake up every morning like this. I love Spencer. I’ve loved Spencer since the moment I first saw her, and now she’s mine. Sort of.
She agreed to try long distance, at least to explore what we are to each other, and I think I have to be okay with that for now. Spencer is like a butterfly, she’s the most beautiful when she’s in flight, allowed to be free. But try to cage her, and her wings will break.
That’s the last thing I want to do to Spencer. I don’t want her to feel trapped. If, and when she decides to settle down with me one day, it has to be her choice. In the meantime, I will do everything I can to be her safe place to land. I will create a home for her that she wants to come back to and show her that I’m not going anywhere, that she can trust me not to pick up and move on without her.
This is what Spencer has been trying to tell me these last few weeks. That she doesn’t need crazy adventures, she doesn’t need grand gestures, she needs stability. She wants someone, somewhere, that she can rely on to be there for her when she needs it. Spencer may not have said it outright, she may not have even realized this yet herself. But I see her now, more clearly than ever. I can read her. She runs away from things so that she’s the one to leave it behind. She sabotages relationships from the very start so that they never grow into something that can hurt her.
All I can do is hope that what I have planned is the thing that finally convinces her that what she needs is us. That I never plan on leaving her. That I have woven her into the very fabric of my life, so much so that if she were to unwind herself from it, I would completely unravel and fall apart.
I trusted Hudson with the vision for what I planned, told him in detail what he needed to do as I wandered down the gravel back road last night in the dark, looking for a single bar of reception. I found enough of a signal for the pictures I sent him to go through. I gave him a few days to get it done, but by the time Spencer and I drag ourselves out of bed, get dressed and pack up the van, my stomach is clenched, nerves roiling in my gut.
Spencer is quiet for the drive home, most likely sensing my weird tension. As the van nears the entrance to the driveway of the house, I catch her glancing down at my left knee, bouncing with anticipation.
“Is everything okay?” Spencer asks, nodding her head towards my shaking leg. “You’re very jittery all of a sudden.”
“Yeah, I’m good,” I say, more to convince myself than her as I forcibly stop the shaking of my leg and choose to bite my lip instead. Something more subtle that she won’t notice but will be an outlet for my nervous energy.
I can’t say why I’m so nervous about this. At the very least it will show her that this place will always be hers to come back to, but at most … I can’t start to hope for the most. Because the most is that this will be what convinces Spencer to stay. Forever. For good.
“Thanks for doing this, Grady,” Spencer says as we pull into the driveway, and I put the van in park. “I really needed it to ground me before I leave. To bring me back to myself and remind me what’s really important.”
“When do you have to go?” I ask. My words feel stilted, it’s a question that is demanding to be asked but I don’t want the answer to.
“Soon. Maybe tomorrow morning,” she says, her eyes cast down into her lap. “My manager just sent over the contract. I just have to sign it. The offer is better than I expected. But they want me at the office by the end of the week, so they can prep me for the first trip.”
My stomach lurches. I knew the day was close, but I was deluding myself into thinking that I had more time with her, before the chemistry that Spencer and I share will somehow have to translate through telephone calls and video chats. It won’t be the same. I’ll have to remind myself that it’s still her. That we’re still us. Because through a screen, I know I won’t feel her the same way as when she’s here, breathing the same air.
I think deep down I’m afraid that the shift between us, the bits and pieces that we get from each other, won’t be enough to sustain us. The relationship will be experienced in bite-sized pieces, just a taste here and there until we forget how rich the flavour once was. Until the phone calls and video chats become fewer and further between, and one of them ends with a final goodbye.
I won’t let it. I don’t care what I have to do. I have resolved at this moment that whenever we hang up the phone, it will never be our final goodbye. If there is ever a time where it feels like it, I will fly to her to prove to her that it’s not. Because a year and a half without each other didn’t do anything to the spark between us, so I know that no matter how much time passes, that connection will keep us together.
Spencer opens the passenger side door and is the first to get out of the van when we get home, leaving her answer hanging in the air between us like it isn’t supposed to affect us. Like it didn’t just punch me in the gut and suck the air right out of my lungs.
I follow her, grabbing our duffel bags from behind the seat and slinging them over my shoulders as I meet her by the front door.
God, I hope it’s ready, I think to myself as I fumble with the set of keys in my hand to find the one that will open the door and show her my heart, the very thing that beats for her and only her. Maybe it’ll be too much too soon. Oh god, what have I done? Spencer specifically said no boyfriend-y things, and this isn’t even boyfriend territory anymore; this is like, I’m so obsessed with you and not in a cute way. She only just agreed to see where our relationship goes, and if there’s anything that might make her feel trapped, this would be it.
“Before we go in there,” I say, my hand still on the key that’s stuck in the doorknob, “I just need to say one thing.”
Spencer looks at me, a concerned line forming between her brows.
“I haven’t wanted to do or say anything to push you away, to make you feel trapped, so I’ve been trying to show you all the reasons you should choose to stay. There’s one last thing I need to show you, but please, if it’s too much, just say so. Don’t feel obligated in any way to?—”
Spencer cuts me off by placing a hand gently against my mouth.
“Stop second guessing yourself,” she says, as if I’m made of glass and she can see right through it to my quivering mess of a heart. “Own your feelings, Grady.”
I nod, but I don’t open the door because as soon as Spencer stopped me, I knew the words that I really wanted to say, and I need to say them before I lose the chance. Before she decides that this all is too much.
“You showed me what it means to fight for something you love when you helped me with the council meeting. I can show you all the reasons you should stay, but I know that I also need to fight for you. I love you, Spencer. I have been hopelessly, desperately in love with you since the day you walked into my life. It seemed crazy, to have my thoughts so consumed by you, this amazing woman I’d met and gotten to know just for one night. I’ve spent the last year thinking of nothing but you, hoping that one day you’d decide to come back. Then you did, and I got a second chance. I’m not going to fuck it up now.” Speaking the words out loud somehow makes whatever nervousness I felt disappear and my shoulders drop, my posture straightens, and I stand by my truth. I’m in love with Spencer, and I’m fighting for her.
Her throat bobs and I swing the front door open before she can respond, gesturing for her to go inside. She goes up the stairs as if she knows. As if she knows exactly what’s waiting for her. But it’s not intuition, just the small trail of construction supplies and paint cans that lead her right to the master bedroom.
I take a moment to collect myself and take a calming breath before I follow her into the house. I make my way upstairs to find her standing in the middle of the room, hands slack at her sides, mouth agape as she takes in the space.
Hudson fucking nailed it. But he clearly enlisted some help.
The previously navy blue walls have been repainted in a rosemary shade of green. My old cane headboard goes with the room perfectly, and the bedding fits the description I gave him to a tee. Ally or Winnie must have helped him pick it out because it reeks of femininity. The duvet is light pink with small rosebuds all over it, and the olive-coloured gingham sheet is folded back neatly to give an eclectic mix of patterns.
But that’s not what Spencer is looking at. Spencer’s eyes are fixed overhead on the ceiling, where light gauzy fabric is draped, forming a billowy canopy over the bed. Soft, white fairy lights twinkle behind it.
She turns and looks at me with red-rimmed, watery eyes, but the expression on her face is a new one, and I can’t read the emotion behind it.
“Grady, I—” she starts, but she’s interrupted by her phone pinging in her pocket as multiple texts come streaming in at once. Perhaps messages that she missed while we were out of service the last few days. She pulls it out of her pocket and her eyes go wide as she reads the texts on her screen.
I haven’t breathed in what feels like five minutes. My chest is tight, waiting for her response to the room, waiting to find out if this is it, if Spencer is going to bolt. But the look on her face when she finally looks up from the screen tells me that I’m not going to get one right now. I’ll have to wait.
“It’s Mason. Ally’s in labour.” Shit. Ally isn’t due for another month yet, meaning the baby is early and she’s probably terrified.
“When? When did those come in? Did you miss it?” I ask, my tone panicked.
“No, they just came in now. We still have time, but we need to get to the clinic. Ally is asking for me.”
“Okay, okay. Whatever she needs.” I whirl around on my heel and head out of the house, grabbing a different set of keys on my way out. “We’ll take the bike, it’ll be faster,” I say over my shoulder. Spencer is close on my heels.
She doesn’t hesitate to take her helmet out of the back hatch and climb on behind me. Suddenly whatever fear I had about Spencer rejecting me is on the back burner of my mind, replaced by a new fear that makes my mouth feel sticky and dry. Fear for my brother and Ally. My niece.
For Spencer, who cares about Ally as if she’s her own flesh and blood. My ears are ringing as my bike roars beneath us, picking up speed to get to the clinic as fast as we can.
Hudson and Jett are in the waiting room of the clinic when we arrive. The lights are dimmed save for the glow of the one coming from behind the reception desk. I open the door to let Spencer through, the bell overhead chiming. The sound is too cheery against the tense, somber mood in the room. Jett looks up from where he’s sitting, and Hudson is standing, already moving towards us, pulling me into a hug.
“Hey, man. You okay?” he asks, giving me a firm pat on the back.
“Hanging in there.” I look at him, my mouth tightening into a grim line. The same worry lines his face as he nods, understanding passing between us.
“Where is Ally?” Spencer says from behind me, her voice fuzzy and distant. Everything around me feels like it’s happening in a blur.
“Spencer, thank God you’re here.” Winnie rounds the corner from the hall leading back to the exam rooms. “Ally has been asking for you. She’s not coping well.” Spencer places her purse on one of the waiting room chairs and sets her phone down on top of it before she disappears down the hall with Winnie.
I pace up and down the row of worn pleather chairs, nerves roiling in my gut.
“You may as well sit down,” Jett says, his head resting in his hands, elbows perched on his knees. “Winnie warned us this could take a while.”
“Why couldn’t they get her to a hospital?” I ask, as if Hudson and Jett will know.
“I don’t know.” Hudson shrugs. “But they just hired a midwife for the clinic, and Ally said she wants the baby to be born in Heartwood. I don’t think they expected her to come so early …” His voice trails off, not wanting to address the potential scenarios that could come from having a premature baby born in a rural clinic.
“Ally was what, seven, eight months pregnant?” I ask again, receiving only shrugs for answers. They have no idea. “I’m pretty sure she was nearing eight months. So, the baby likely has a better chance of being healthy.”My mind races through the possible outcomes, not wanting to go to a dark place that I rarely, if ever, let myself entertain.
“Let’s hope so,” Jett says, a crease forming between his brows. I’m taken aback by how concerned my youngest brother is. For a guy who takes nothing seriously, and never stops moving, it’s jarring to see him like this, pinned to his seat, worry evident in his eyes.
My gaze is diverted from Jett when Spencer’s phone screen lights up beside me where she left it on top of her bag. I look away briefly, not wanting to snoop, but two minutes later when the same text message lights up the screen again, I can’t help but read the preview.
SASHA
Got the contract! Damn your signature looks good on it …
I feel my shoulders slump, my stomach dropping within me as disappointment washes over me. I’m more disappointed than I have a right to be. Spencer prepared me for this, we knew what this was between us. I thought I had come to terms with the long-distance thing. Part of me hoped that showing her the new master bedroom would maybe change her mind. One final grand gesture in my plan to get her to stay in Heartwood. I have nothing left now. That was my last kick at the can, and I’m tapped out.
She’s going. She’s really going. And this relationship, this electric chemistry between us, will be reduced to phone calls and cramming in as much as we can together for a few weeks here and there. I’m well aware of the schedule that Mile High gave her, the number of trips they plan on sending her on in the next year to try and turn their brand around. It’s going to leave hardly any time for me, for us.
A thought pops into my mind and derails me even further, and bile rises to the back of my throat. Did she send the contract before or after I showed her the bedroom? Was she sitting on the e-mail and seeing the room was enough for her to quickly hit send? Was this always part of the plan or did I just push her away even more?
I can feel the blood draining from my face, my vision blurring. I tried to fight for Spencer, I tried to do everything I could to show her that she can rely on me, and instead, I did the opposite of what I set out to do. I freaked her out, made her feel suffocated.
Time feels like it’s moving in slow motion, and I have no concept of how long we’ve been sitting here, my mind in an anxious spiral, when a voice breaks through my thoughts. I look up to see Mason standing before Hudson, Jett, and me. I rise as soon as I see him, my knees wobbling slightly beneath me.
Mason’s mouth breaks into a smile, and my eyes sting at the expression of joy on his face.
“Do you want to meet your niece?” he asks, and I pull him into a tight hug in response. Mason’s shoulders shake, half a sob of relief, half joyful laughter, before I pull away and we head back to the exam room to meet my beautiful baby niece.