Chapter 32
Thirty-Two
Come & Talk To Me
Ryan
I fucking love Tyler. That kid is so cool. And watching him give Spence a hard time was entertaining as hell. He says exactly what he's thinking at all times. I kind of love that about him.
But seeing how Spence softened toward him? The pride in his eyes? I could have melted right into that booth.
T-Bone—that’s his name now, says me—was practically vibrating while he told us about, and I quote, “Officer Thick As Fuck.” His real name is Luke.
First year on the Phoenix police force. One of only two openly gay officers in the department.
T-Bone said Luke’s captain suggested he stop by the youth center if he wanted to be more involved in the community.
The poor kid was practically drooling into his fries describing how hot his officer is. I gave him some flirting tips for landing a thick hottie. That earned me some under the table, over the pants action from Spence.
I shake my head as we maneuver back into the condo after the diner.
I’m feeling equal parts amused and mushy on the inside.
I made a decision—right there in that booth—that I was going to be there for T-Bone, too.
It was awesome hearing him talk about fashion, the center, and he even likes the same games as me.
I ordered a gaming console for Spence’s place on the ride back.
Now that Spence has introduced us, there’s no reason he can’t hang out here. All I got is time now.
I haphazardly prop my crutches against the couch, one immediately clattering dramatically onto the hardwood floor.
Spence sighs. I snicker.
Meanwhile, I grab the handles of my knee scooter and push toward the kitchen while he walks over, picks up the fallen crutch, and neatly carries both to the coat closet by the front door.
“Neurotic as hell,” I mutter.
“I heard that.”
“I wanted you to.”
He rolls his eyes. God, I love annoying him.
When he finishes putting them away, I nod toward the barstools lined up at the kitchen island. “Sit.”
Spence furrows his brows. “Why? What are we doing?”
I point at him dramatically. “I'm going to make attempt number six hundred and seventy-six at replicating Betty's Polish cream cheese coffee cake.”
I scoot toward the fridge and start pulling things out.
“That saucy minx refuses to give me her recipe.” Spence laughs softly as I gather eggs, sour cream, and the sealed containers of butter and cream cheese I set out to soften before we left.
Then I balance it all precariously against my chest and scoot back toward the island.
“And you”—I set everything down with a flourish—”are going to tell me things. ”
His brows lift. “What are you going on about?”
“What am I talking about? Tyler, for starters, Spence.”
“What about him?”
I scoot over to the oven and punch it to three-fifty before glancing back at him. “Are you serious right now? You basically changed his life. You've done all these incredible things for him, and I didn't even know he's part of your life.”
Spence blows out a breath through his nose. “Look, he's really important to me. I'm a little protective of him.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Also, he's not something to be paraded around as proof that I have a heart.”
My expression softens immediately. “No, I respect that,” I say honestly. “And I get it. Like I told you earlier, same thing with the folks at the retirement village.”
I open the lower cabinet in the island and triumphantly pull out the stand mixer I had delivered here a couple weeks ago. Best purchase ever. I turn my scooter toward the pantry, plant one foot, and shove off dramatically…
“Whee!”
Spence barks out a real laugh. Not the little amused exhale he tries to get away with sometimes. A real laugh. Warm. Rich. Unfiltered. My chest squeezes painfully around it. God. I love getting those out of him.
I grab the sugar container and scoot back to the island.
As I measure out sugar, toss in butter, and crack an egg into the mixer bowl, I say casually, “Today just made me realize we don't know enough about each other.” Spence visibly tenses.
“And I need to change that if I'm going to make you fall for me.”
He drags a hand down his face. “Ryan—”
“Nope.” I point the measuring cup at him. “I'm not letting you get away with your shit anymore. You're going to open up to me, Perfect.”
He groans quietly and rolls his eyes toward the ceiling before finally dropping onto one of the barstools. “Fine,” he says. “What do you want to know?”
I turn the mixer on low. “We're gonna start easy.” I grin at him. “Favorite dessert?”
“Crème br?lée.”
I nod seriously. “Respect. Favorite movie?”
He doesn't even hesitate. “Silence of the Lambs.”
I gasp dramatically and switch off the mixer. “Holy shit! Seriously?”
One corner of his mouth lifts. “Yes, seriously. Why?”
“Remember I told you Dumb and Dumber was my number two favorite in the car earlier? Well, Silence is my numero uno, Spencester. And my sisters can verify.”
That gets a chuckle. I add sour cream into the bowl and turn the mixer back on. “Okay. Best concert you've ever been to?”
He thinks about it while I scoot back to the pantry for a vanilla bean. When I return, he says, “That's a tough one. Probably Dave Matthews Band at the Gorge.”
I grin immediately. “Solid choice. Crash Into Me does things to my loins.”
Spence actually laughs again and does a little shimmy on the stool. Jesus Christ. This man is so much hotter when he relaxes.
“What about you?” he asks.
I pause dramatically while crushing the vanilla bean open, then slowly lift one finger and tap the dimple in my chin.
Spence's eyes darken instantly. A low rumble vibrates in his chest. I tap the dimple again.
“Hmmm,” I draw out thoughtfully, watching him stare at my mouth.
“Honestly? Pink. She puts on an incredible show.”
Spence hums. “I've heard that.”
I dump the vanilla into the batter. “Okay. Favorite color?”
I open the cream cheese container while the mixer hums quietly between us. But when several seconds pass without an answer, I glance up. Spence is just staring at me. Not casually. Not teasingly. Intensely. His throat bobs once. Then he looks me directly in the eyes and says softly—
“Green.”
Everything in the kitchen goes still. The mixer. The air. Me. Because I know this man did not just level me with one word. My pulse kicks hard against my ribs as we stare at each other in complete silence, something heavy and electric passing between us.
Suddenly, a loud trilling sound slices through the moment. I blink and glance toward my tablet propped up on the stand Spence bought me for my cooking videos. There’s an incoming video call from Cricket. I grin and tap the answer button.
“Hey, Cricket.”
“Hey, Ry.” Cricket's face fills the screen, her smile bright and immediate.
“Your ears must've been burning, big seester.”
“Oh really?” she asks suspiciously. “Why?” Then her eyes narrow as she peers closer at the screen. “And is that your friend's kitchen? It's incredible.”
I beam proudly and glance around like I personally had something to do with designing the place. “Yep. It's Spence's kitchen.” I pat the island lovingly. “I'm in heaven, Cricket.”
Harper suddenly pops into frame beside Cricket.
“Hey, Bug,” I say, cheerfully.
“Ooh,” Harper says, eyes widening. “That is nice.”
Cricket points at the screen. “So why would my ears be burning?”
I give them my most mischievous grin. “Spence and I just discovered we share the same favorite movie.”
Cricket groans immediately. Harper bursts out laughing.
Cricket points at her warningly. “Don't start.”
I bark out a laugh while Harper wheezes beside her. Then Harper squints toward the screen. “Wait. Is your friend there now?”
My entire face splits open with a smile. Across the island, Spence starts frantically waving both hands in a very clear absolutely-the-fuck-not motion.
Naturally, I ignore him. “You guys wanna meet him?”
“Of course,” Harper says instantly.
Before Spence can escape, I spin the tablet around on its stand.
A beat of silence. Then both my sisters gasp.
“Holy shit,” Harper blurts. “Look at you.”
I hear Cricket smack her. “Don't be rude, Harp.”
Then Cricket leans closer to the camera. “But seriously,” she says to Spence, “are you a model or something? Sweet Christmas on a cracker.”
I look over at Spence just in time to watch him shift awkwardly on the barstool, clearly unsure what to do with this level of Buterbaugh chaos.
“Umm—”
“Get to the important questions, Cricket,” Harper interrupts. “Are you single? We're both single. But I'll do things Cricket won't.”
Spence's eyes widen. I nearly choke.
“No. Nope. Veto. We are not talking about my sisters and the things they'll—”
Both of them dissolve into giggles. Spence just sits there looking completely shell-shocked.
“Sorry, Spence,” Cricket says. “You'll get used to us. We're harmless.”
Spence finally lets out a small laugh. “If you're anything like your brother,” he says dryly, “I highly doubt that.”
Harper snickers. “Ooh, he's salty. I like it.”
I watch Spence roll his eyes, but there's the tiniest upward twitch at the corner of his mouth.
“It's nice to meet you both,” he says politely.
“Oh, the pleasure is all ours,” Harper replies in the most shamelessly seductive voice imaginable.
I quickly spin the tablet back around. “Okay, that's enough of that. You're barking up the wrong tree anyway.”
My neck heats and possessiveness crawls up throat. Which is ridiculous. These are my sisters. They are literally thousands of miles away. And yet the jealousy monster inside me still wakes up snarling because apparently my stupid heart has decided Spencer Stark belongs to me.
I point toward the tablet while cracking another egg into the batter. “Spence prefers man muscles and a fat jock ass.”
I glance up just in time to catch the exact reaction I wanted—a stern look sharpened with heat.
Harper sighs dramatically. “Of course he does. Shoulda known. He's too perfect.”
Perfect. A direct hit to my heart.
I look up at Spence softly. “Yeah,” I say quietly. “He is.”
A tiny gasp sounds through the speakers. Oh. Right.
I slowly turn toward the tablet. Cricket has her hand slapped firmly over Harper's mouth. Cricket gives me the gentlest look.
“Ryan,” she says carefully, “I think Harper and I are going to come visit. Would that be okay?”
She lowers her hand.
“We are?” Harper asks.
Cricket elbows her.
“Oh. Yeah,” Harper corrects with zero shame. “We totally are.”
I laugh softly, warmth spreading through my chest so fast it almost hurts. “Yeah. I'd—um, I'd like that.” I smile at them. “Let's tag up later and plan it.”
Cricket nods. “Sounds good. We'll talk soon. Love you, Ry.”
Harper sings, “Love you, Ry-Ry.”
I laugh again. “Love you guys too.”
Then Harper shouts, obnoxiously loud, “Bye, Spence! Nice to meet you!”
I snort and turn the tablet back toward him. But the second I look at Spence, my stomach flutters. He's looking at them with this soft expression I almost never get to see.
Open. Warm. Beautiful.
“It was really nice to meet you both,” he says with a genuine smile. “Let's go to dinner when you're in town. My treat.”
“That would be lovely,” Cricket says. “Can't wait.”
After one more round of goodbyes, the call disconnects. Spence turns the tablet around while I go back to working on Betty's impossible coffee cake. I crack another egg into the bowl, but my thoughts are nowhere near the recipe anymore.
I don't know what I'm going to do if I can't get Spence to fully give himself over to me. My sisters mean everything to me. And he just—that man just softened himself for them. For me.
It's official, sports fans.
Game over.
I am completely fucking gone for my Mr. Perfect.
Spence sets the tablet down and looks at me. “You know they just clocked us, right?”
“Yep,” I say, popping the p.
He laughs softly, then says, “I wouldn't mind.”
I lift a brow. “You wouldn't mind what?”
Spence shrugs one shoulder. “I know we're not where you want us to be yet,” he says quietly, “but I wouldn't mind if you wanted to tell them we're not just friends.”
Murder. This is murder.
He is actively killing me with his words.
And I'd willingly spend eternity making sure he never regrets a single one.