Chapter Thirteen
Jamie
November. The word rang in Jamie’s ears like a bell that wouldn’t stop. Long before now. Long before their planned Christmas week in Big Bear. Daddy Tom had been planning his exit for a month. Planning to trade him in like an old coat.
Jamie’s breath hitched. “He knew he was going to dump me. In November?” His voice cracked, and the pain ran through him, raw and jagged.
He couldn’t hold it back. He collapsed onto Spencer’s chest, sobbing so hard his entire body trembling.
The grief was too big, too loud, and all he could do was cling to the one person who hadn’t left.
Spencer didn’t flinch when Jamie clung to him like he was the only solid thing left in a world that had tilted sideways.
Spencer’s arms wrapped around him, firm and steady, anchoring him to something real—something safe.
Jamie buried his face in Spencer’s chest, breathing in the warmth of him, the quiet strength that never asked him to be anything but himself.
“I’m sorry,” Spencer whispered into his hair, voice low and full of care.
Jamie’s throat tightened. The words were there, tangled and aching, but he forced them out.
“I’m so hurt,” he said, voice cracking. “And angry. Tom wasn’t honest with me.
He knew he wanted to break up, and instead of telling me, he let me believe we were okay.
That we were going to spend Christmas together.
I looked forward to it. I planned for it.
And he was already planning to replace me. ”
Spencer didn’t interrupt. He just held him tighter, listening as if every word mattered.
Jamie pulled back slightly, eyes wet and searching. “He talked about the party where I would meet all his friends. Like we were going together as a couple. But he was going to leave me there. Alone.”
Spencer’s jaw tightened, but his voice stayed gentle. “Dishonesty in a relationship is deadly,” he said. “It poisons everything. I promise you, Jamie, I’ll always tell you the truth. I’ll never lead you on. Not ever.”
Jamie’s heart thudded hard against his ribs. He wanted to believe that. Needed to. And somehow, with Spencer, it didn’t feel impossible. “I trust you,” he whispered. “I want to be honest too… always with you.”
Spencer leaned in and kissed him—soft, sure, and full of something Jamie hadn’t felt in a long time. He didn’t just feel wanted. He felt chosen.
Jamie’s voice trembled when he spoke again. “I saw Tom’s Jeep when we were driving. I want my things back.”
Spencer nodded without hesitation. “I’ll get them for you. As soon as I can.”
Jamie swallowed hard. “I tried to call him. The number’s disconnected.”
That had hit harder than he’d expected. Like Tom had erased him completely. Like Jamie had never mattered.
Spencer pulled him close again, resting his chin on Jamie’s head. “You matter,” he whispered. “To me. You always will.”
And in that moment, wrapped in Spencer’s arms, Jamie let himself believe it. Just a little. Just enough.
“But you drove all the way from Montana to find someone special at the party,” Jamie said, voice small. “And Nathan wants you there.”
Spencer’s reply came without hesitation. “Yes, I drove all this way here to find a little at the party, but I found him before the party—and he’s sitting on my lap.”
“Me? You want me?”
Spencer’s eyes softened, full of something Jamie hadn’t seen in a long time—love. “Yes, I want you. I know we just met, but I felt something the first time I saw you covered in snow on the side of the road. Then you sat in my truck with those sad eyes, and I knew. I knew I couldn’t walk away.”
“But you promised Nathan we’d go.”
“We could go together—as a couple.”
Jamie was sniffling. “But how would anyone know we were a couple?”
Spencer’s mouth softened into something that almost looked like a smile, sad and sure at once. “I’ll tell you that later if we are going to go as a couple. I want you. But if you don’t want me, I’ll understand. You can go. Find someone you like better.”
There wasn’t anyone better. Not for him. Not after everything Spencer had done—held him, listened to him, seen him. Jamie reached up, arms trembling, and wrapped them around Spencer’s neck. Held on like he never wanted to let go. “I don’t want someone else,” he whispered. “I want you.”
For a long, quiet moment, neither of them moved.
Then Spencer tilted his chin, just enough for Jamie to feel the warmth of his breath.
Jamie leaned in first—hesitant, trembling—and when their lips met, it wasn’t desperate.
It was soft, steady, a promise formed between two people who had both been broken but still wanted to try again.
The fire cracked behind them, throwing shadows that danced across their faces, and for the first time all night, Jamie felt something close to peace.
Jamie curled closer to Spencer, the warmth of the cabin wrapping around them like a soft blanket.
The fire crackled gently in the hearth, casting golden light across the room.
His heart was still fluttering from everything that had happened—the tears, the truth, the kiss—but now, in this quiet moment, all he wanted was to stay close.
To feel Spencer’s arms around him and believe, just for tonight, that he was safe.
Spencer brushed a hand through Jamie’s hair, then leaned down and whispered, “I know you like to hear a story. Since I don’t have any books to read, I’ll make one up for you.”
Jamie smiled, his lips still swollen from their kiss. “Okay,” he whispered, voice barely above a whisper.
Spencer scooped him up gently, carrying him to the bed like he weighed nothing.
Jamie’s heart thudded in his chest—not from nerves, but from the tenderness in Spencer’s touch.
They undressed slowly, not rushed or frantic, just quiet and careful, like they were shedding more than clothes.
Like they were letting go of everything that had hurt before.
Once they were settled under the covers, Spencer began.
“There was a boy,” he said, voice low and steady, “who wanted to sing more than anything. But he wasn’t allowed. He had chores on the ranch—feeding horses, fixing fences, hauling hay. Singing didn’t fit into that world.”
Jamie listened, eyes wide, heart aching. He could hear the longing in Spencer’s voice, the way the story wasn’t just a story.
“But one day,” Spencer continued, “when he got older, he left. He joined a band. He sang. And he was happy—really happy. For the first time, he felt like he belonged.”
Jamie reached for Spencer’s hand, interlacing their fingers together.
“But then,” Spencer said, “he had to go back to the ranch. Life pulled him home. And for a while, he thought maybe that was it. Maybe the singing part of him had to stay quiet again.”
Jamie’s chest tightened. He knew that feeling too well.
“But one day,” Spencer said, voice softening, “he returned to California. And he met the cutest guy anyone could ever want. Sweet, shy, with eyes that held whole oceans. And he knew—he wanted to take him to Montana. To build something new. Only… he had to wait for the cute guy to say yes.”
Jamie’s breath caught. He turned his head slowly, eyes searching Spencer’s face. “Is that us?” he asked, voice trembling.
Spencer nodded, his gaze full of something deep and unwavering. “It’s us.”
Jamie’s heart swelled, too full to speak. He leaned in, and Spencer met him halfway, their lips brushing in a kiss that was soft and sure. It wasn’t just affection—it was a promise. That no matter what had come before, they were writing something new now. Together.
And as Jamie lay there, wrapped in Spencer’s arms, he felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Chosen. Wanted. Loved.