Chapter 23
23
Cortney
Me
Don’t hate me, but I have to cancel our date
Spencer
What’s wrong?
Me
My skull is pounding like I got hit by a 2x4
Spencer
… Did you get hit by a 2x4?
Me
Calm down, Caveman. I developed one of my migraines
Spencer
How often do you get a migraine?
Me
Only once a month if I’m lucky
Spencer
Gorgeous, I don’t think you know the definition of lucky
Me
Being with you is the definition of lucky
Spencer
That’s my line
Me
I’m sorry for screwing this up. We can reschedule for tomorrow if you’re free
Or maybe the next day. Sometimes they linger
Spencer
What do you need?
Me
Rest
Spencer
Are you lying down?
Me
Not yet. Just getting home. I need to get some ice for my head
Spencer
Climb into bed. I’m just closing the shop. I’ll be there in twenty
Me
You don’t have to do that
Spencer
I wasn’t asking for your permission
I stumble into the house. Feeling blindly along the wall, I slap the light switch for the front porch and the one beside it for the kitchen. A harsh white glow instantly illuminates my main floor. I clutch the wall for support as I manage to kick off my sneakers without untying the laces.
Holy fuck, this is a bad one.
My eyes are reduced to squints as the light steals what’s left of my eyesight. Heat prickles along my scalp as my body temperature rises. I fight to tear off my scrub top, leaving me in the black tank I normally wear underneath. I only make it as far as the couch before I topple onto my stomach and bury my face in the decorative teal pillow. Thank god I had the foresight to buy a new couch after Sebastian sullied it with his affair.
The fight leaks out of me as my head throbs.
I did think I was lucky. I haven’t had a migraine since before I went on my trip. A small part of me even thought maybe this was the start to the big change. As I get older, I know those things are on the horizon.
That is until I was finishing up a sterilization surgery, and I felt it come on. I had to power through a handful of tasks, but the flickering fluorescent lights at the clinic contributed to the headache getting worse. I keep reminding myself to swap them out, only to forget once the migraine goes away. Each subsequent one acts as a reminder I fail to heed.
This time I’ll remember , I promise myself, slipping into an unconscious oblivion. I’m not quite asleep, but I’m not awake either. Normally, if Ollie is home during a migraine, I can still hear him moving around. It just helps to hold still and close my eyes, mimicking the rest I’d get if my head didn’t feel like it was being torn into pieces.
A quiet knock sounds on my front door sometime later, followed by a creak as it opens. I want to call out, but I know the sound will go straight to my head. Instead, I listen. And pray that this is Ollie or even Spencer and not some masked murderer waltzing through my front door.
The presence of someone moving closer sends a prickle through my skin. A shadow crosses the couch, blocking out the light from the kitchen.
His scent wraps around me a moment before he lowers himself to the floor and brushes his fingertips across the back of my neck. They’re cold, most likely from the AC in his truck. The cool, gentle touch feels heavenly against my heated skin.
“Cortney,” he says quietly.
A small whimpering response comes out of my mouth.
“What are you doing here?”
“How can I help, sweetheart? Do you need a doctor?”
“No.” My voice is barely audible. “No doctor. Just rest.”
“How did this happen?” He’s still murmuring.
“Dumb fluorescent lights.” And hormones too, probably.
“Do you take any medicine?”
“Ibuprofen,” I mumble weakly.
Spencer swears beside me. “Headaches this bad and all you take is ibuprofen?” he says more to himself than to me.
“And ice for the pain.”
“Jesus, baby.”
“He’s not here at the moment.”
In the silence that follows, I picture Spencer’s scowl. I’d smile if moving my facial muscles didn’t hurt so much.
“There has to be a better remedy than that.”
“It’ll go away.” I bury my face deeper into the couch. “Other meds make it hard to function.”
“You call this functioning?”
Pain pulses in my head. I suck in a deep inhale. “Stop talking.”
“I’m taking you to bed.” Spencer’s tone is all business as he shifts at my back.
I’d make a joke about how I’m not up for sex at the moment, but the pain is intensifying. It usually does. I’ll be on the incline for about twelve hours until I reach a peak and things slowly return to normal.
With careful movements, Spencer helps me sit up. His concerned face is blurry. The increasing pain pitches my forehead into his rock-hard stomach. My arms hang limp, shoulders and neck tense as I breathe through the ice pick in my skull.
“You’re breaking my heart here, my love.” Spencer’s voice sounds as pained as I feel.
“I have it, Spence,” I inject strength into my voice, but it comes out as a whimper.
Ceasing all arguments, he picks me up like a sleepy toddler napping on the couch after dinner. My legs cinch around his hips, and I circle my arms around his neck, burying my face in the comforting space.
Spencer grips the backs of my thighs and carefully lumbers from the room.
“Which door is yours?” He’s all whispers and hushed tones as we venture down the dark hallway.
“Last one.”
“Hang tight, gorgeous. I’ve got you.”
Lips press into the side of my hair. My heart soars at his tenderness.
I don’t even want to remember the last time someone cared for me like this.
Sebastian never did. My migraines were an inconvenience. Once he realized he couldn’t cajole me into pretending it didn’t hurt, he left me alone to deal with them myself.
Before that, I had Oliver to care for, so I did my best to muster through the pain for my little boy.
A sharp ache rockets through me when I think about the fact the last people who cared for me so deeply were my parents after they took me in.
And my brothers.
As I grew older and had a son of my own, I stopped letting them see this side of me. I got used to pretending I was fine. I could handle anything. I put on my cape and turned into the super mom I never had, not until Nancy, never letting my little boy or my family see me falter.
Suspended weightless in Spencer’s arms injects me with feelings I have no business feeling.
Mainly how nice it is to let someone else take control.
With Spencer’s history of leaving, that might not be a good thing. But at least he’s here now.
Spencer sits on the edge of my bed with me still in his arms, careful not to crush my feet behind him. His biceps tighten for a second, as if he’s not ready to let me go, before they release, and he eases me into bed.
“Be right back.” He lays the duvet over my chest and exits the room.
I must drift off, because seconds later, the bed shifts from the other side.
“Would it be okay if I lay with you?” The tenderness in his voice untangles some of those cobwebs in my chest.
“Please.” I reach for him. Warm fingers grip mine before he presses a prickly kiss to my knuckles. His five-o’clock shadow provides a much-needed distraction.
He settles with his back to my padded headboard and rolls me half on him. My head lands around his abs with an arm thrown carelessly over his hips, thigh cocked against his shin.
“I just want to hold you if that’s okay.” His fingertips work magic on my head and neck.
I nod against him. Some of the pain begins to lessen under his ministrations.
“Let me know if this is too much.”
I sigh at the sharp cold spreading across my forehead. Spencer wrapped some ice in a cloth he found somewhere between here and the kitchen. He runs the freezing bundle across my heated skin.
“So good,” I mumble. “You know you don’t have to stay. This isn’t first-date material.”
“I want to,” he says. “We can have our first date tomorrow.”
“I can take care of myself.” Even as I put up a fight, my arm tightens around him.
“I know you’re hurting, and it’s probably hard for you to be seen like this.” He lifts the hair away from the back of my neck and moves the ice there. “But I’m here now. And I plan to be here for a long time. You’re used to doing it all, but you don’t have to be strong anymore. You’ve got me now to pick up the pieces you drop.”
That sounds nice, I want to tell him. It can wait until later. When my head quits pounding and I can think straight.
For now, I soak in his silent strength and the peace he brings me by being near.
My body settles against him, and I sink into sleep.
Mom? Are you home?
Mom?
She’s in here.
Who the hell are you?
My name’s Spencer—
I don’t care what your name is. Get out of my mom’s bed!
Keep your voice down.
…
Is she sick?
She has a migraine. She get those a lot?
Yeah, kind of. Did she get some medicine?
I didn’t get a chance to find it.
I’ll get them. I’d really prefer if you weren’t still lying with her when I come back. It’s weird.
Get used to weird because I’m not leaving her right now.
What are you, her boyfriend?
I’ll leave that up to her to explain
Gross. I should have stayed at Lincoln’s house.
The voices face away.
A firm hand on my shoulder gently shakes me awake. “Mom?”
“Ollie?” I blink slowly. A familiar shape materializes before my face, illuminated by the light from the hallway.
If Oliver’s standing there, and there’s a warm heat behind me, that means I’m still lying on Spen cerohmygod.
I shove myself upright, immediately groaning and clutching my head at the sharp bolt of pain. The sleep seems to have taken the edge off, but the quick movements bring some of it straight back.
“Mom, it’s okay. Stop.”
“Settle down, gorgeous,” Spencer rumbles from behind me.
Ollie pins Spencer with a glare over my head. Spencer must give him a nonverbal instruction because my son turns his attention back to me. His face is pinched in annoyance.
“At least you guys aren’t naked,” he mumbles under his breath.
Spencer chuckles, the vibration pleasant against my back. I sink deeper into him.
“Here.” Ollie shoves a few pills in my hand and extends a glass of water. “Take them.”
“Thanks, baby.”
Ollie seems to pretend Spencer isn’t here. “Are you okay?”
I chase the pills with a gulp of water. “I’ll be good as new after a nap.”
“Does he really have to join you?”
I could say no. I could tell Spencer he should leave to make sure Ollie isn’t uncomfortable, but then he brushes his fingers through my hair, and the soothing touch chases away the doubt.
“Nothing is happening here besides some cuddling.”
Ollie makes a retching sound. “Is he your boyfriend?”
Oh fuck. What do I say here? We agreed not to tell anyone, but I can’t lie to my son. Not when the evidence of something he’d rather not have to confront is staring him in the face.
Our relationship was built on honesty. I believe we’re close because of the trust we built when it was just the two of us making our way through this world together.
I lick my lips.
“He’s someone special to me.”
“That sounds like he’s your boyfriend.”
“I don’t think adults use that term so much.” I wouldn’t know. Sebastian and I went from dating to engaged quicker than I care to admit out loud. My last official boyfriend was Ollie’s father before he was born.
“I’ll be your boyfriend,” Spencer says behind me.
Ollie grimaces. “Don’t ask out my mom in front of me.”
“We don’t know what this is yet, Ollie. I’d appreciate if you didn’t share this with anyone else. For tonight, he heard I was hurting, and he came over to help.”
Oliver gives a hasty nod. “I’m leaving.”
I smother my smile with my duvet. “Order dinner if you’re hungry. I didn’t get around to cooking.”
“Don’t forget that I’m here. In my room. With the door open!” Oliver spins on a heel and leaves my bedroom door cracked.
I burrow back into Spencer with a groan.
“I think he just gave us the don’t-have-sex talk,” Spencer jokes, tucking my hair behind my ear.
“They grow up so fast.” My lashes flutter at his soft touches.
“That didn’t go so bad.”
“What?”
“Letting someone you know find out about us.”
Oliver’s horrified face springs to mind again, and I can’t help but smile. “Yeah.”
“Cortney?”
“Hmm?”
“Can I be your boyfriend?” His next laugh is nervous. “Never thought I’d ask that question again.”
My eyes pop open wide in the dark room. “You want to be my boyfriend?”
His voice is measured and quiet. “I want whatever this is to be serious. I want you to know it’s serious. And when you’re ready, I want whoever we run into to know it’s serious.”
“Sounds like you’ve given this some thought.”
“Just about the only thing I’ve thought about in the last month.” His thumb rubs across my knuckles.
“I know exactly how that feels.”
But there’s a big difference with telling my son who knows nothing of our history, and my brother, who still feels like he needs to hold a grudge in whatever form that may take.
“You don’t have to answer now if you aren’t sure.”
“I am sure. I want this. I just… My family really hated Sebastian. When that relationship ended, I promised myself I wouldn’t ever get involved with someone who they didn’t like. My family is the most important thing to me.”
“I understand,” Spencer rasps. “They were there for you when I wasn’t.”
He doesn’t know the half of it. He has no idea what it was like for me to wake up alone that morning. How, in the months that followed, my brothers picked up the pieces.
When Spencer walked out of that motel, I lost my best friend. My first love. He was my everything. And then he was gone.
Squeezing my eyes shut clears the painful memories.
He’s here now.
I cup his cheek. A sliver of yellow light shines through the crack in the door that Ollie left open. It’s just enough to see the apprehension on Spencer’s face.
“But you’re a really, really close second.”
I touch his mouth with mine.
“If everything goes right, I could see you tied.”
Spencer crushes me against his chest like a lifeline, kissing me with untold longing.
“So yeah, you can be my boyfriend. Though the label isn’t necessary. You’re already so much more than that.”
The door down the hall slams shut.