Chapter 25 - Tate
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
TATE
Iroll over with a giant stretch, wincing at the ache in my ass and tailbone. Glancing to the side, I find Spencer asleep next to me and take a moment to appreciate his handsomeness, despite the injuries.
My heart drops at the reminder of everything.
Fuck.
Last night was an absolute shitshow, and it’s all my fault. Spencer wouldn’t be hurt right now if it weren’t for my past baggage showing back up.
Running my hands over my face, I squint at the digital clock on top of my dresser.
It’s only seven-thirty—way too early to be awake on a Saturday morning—but I really need to pee, so I force myself out of bed and tug on a pair of loose sweatpants from the top of my clean laundry basket.
Tiptoeing toward the bedroom door, I try to be as quiet as possible so I don’t wake him. It’s too early to talk.
“You okay?” Spencer’s deep, groggy voice calls out from behind me, and I freeze in my tracks with my hand on the doorknob.
“Yeah. Fine. Gotta pee,” I whisper, sneaking out quickly and shutting the door behind me. I’m not ready to face him. Or the massive guilt that’ll come with it.
I do my business in the bathroom and sneak back into my room, hoping he’s asleep again by some miracle. But I’m not that lucky. Spencer’s sitting on the edge of the bed, fully dressed.
“Do you want me to go?” he asks vulnerably, and I’ve never been more grateful for someone being so attentive as I am now.
But it’s still hard to say yes.
“I . . . I just need to be alone for a little bit. Process things,” I murmur, staring at the carpet instead of being brave enough to meet his gaze.
“So, you’re still not ready to talk about anything?” he asks to be sure.
I shake my head while I continue to stare at the ground. I can’t even look at him. It’s pathetic.
“Hey. It’s okay. I understand.” His soft, reassuring words are a relief, and I really hope he means it. The last thing I’d ever want to do is hurt him worse than I already have.
Spencer walks over and stands in front of me, while I space out in complete avoidance. His gentle fingers apply pressure under my chin until I’m forced to look him in the eye.
“Call me later? If you’re ready to talk. I’m not doing anything today except waiting to hear from you,” he admits, and my stomach flip-flops like I just went over a big hill.
Spencer doesn’t wait for an answer, making my heart stutter when he drops my chin and brushes past me on his way out of my bedroom.
Squeezing my eyes shut tightly, I shake my head, completely frustrated with myself.
Ugh.
Am I seriously fumbling the hottest, sweetest, most genuine guy around?
I think I am.
Taking a deep breath, I hurry after him to apologize.
“Spence, wait. I’m sorry,” I blurt out, feeling the pressure building up behind my eyeballs.
Fuck. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
He pauses for a second in the entranceway with his hand on the doorknob and his back to me. “You don’t have to apologize for not being ready to talk about stuff. Last night was traumatic, and I know things have been off between us recently, but can I ask you one thing before I go?”
My heart hammers, pumping wildly against my ribcage. “You can ask me anything, but I can’t promise I’ll have an answer,” I tell him truthfully.
Spencer spins around suddenly, and the raw emotion swirling in his dark brown eyes makes me stop short. “Was last night not enough to show you how much I care about you?” he whispers intensely, pinning me to the spot with his imploring stare.
My pulse is racing, and my stomach flips, hearing him say he cares about me. But the bandage on his brow and the scab on his lip have me glancing away with guilt. So much fucking guilt. I can’t do this right now, I just can’t. I’ve told him I’m not ready to talk.
“I already said that I need some time to process everything,” I repeat, ignoring his words even though they’re echoing throughout my head.
He cares about me.
I mean, obviously. I knew he did.
“This isn’t a joke or a game to me, Tate. This is my life and my future, and I want you in it,” he says with a furrowed brow and straight mouth.
“It’s mine, too, and I can’t get hurt again,” I whimper before turning my back to him.
I’m not ready to break down and lose it on a Saturday morning in front of Spencer.
“You need to go. I can’t do this right now.” I bail on the conversation because I really need to think about what I want. I ended our arrangement, then last night happened, and it changed everything. Either way, I know it’s time for me to make a decision.
It was supposed to be casual. It was always supposed to be casual.
“I would never hurt you. Ever,” he insists, but people don’t keep their promises. It’s a fact. Even my parents didn’t last.
“Not on purpose, but it will happen,” I say insistently.
“Tate . . .” The indecision in his eyes is palpable. Stay or go.
Always the gentleman and completely respectful of my boundaries, he leaves.
I’m just not so sure I wanted him to.
“Babe, I seriously can’t believe what happened last night. Caleb is unhinged. It sounds like a freaking movie plot,” Daija says, curled up under a blanket on the opposite couch.
It’s another ice cream and Bridgerton kind of night. One of my favorite ways to de-stress.
After last night’s disaster, I think I deserve a second bowl and season one with the duke. It’s not like we don’t have enough. We’ve hardly even made a dent in five gallons.
“You’re tellin’ me,” I mumble in between bites of cookies ’n cream.
I lived it firsthand.
“Thank goodness Jake showed up when he did. It’s actually so hot. And brave,” she says matter-of-factly.
I shake my head. “Girl. Stop.” I’m sure Jake’s POV is even more over-the-top than mine or Spencer’s, and I’m sure he’ll tell it at every party until he’s thirty-five.
“What? He’s practically a hero, and I think I really like him, Tate. As in, boyfriend material.”
Boyfriend?
Wow.
Daija hasn’t had a boyfriend since freshman year. “Yeah?” I ask gently. Despite all their flirting, I’m a little surprised she’d consider dating Jake and taking him home to her strict, Southern Baptist parents.
“Yeah, but keep that between us. I’m not quite ready to tell him or anyone else. Especially my parents.”
I mime a zipper across my lips and flick away the key.
“Besides, I think he needs to work for it a little more.”
“Oh. He does,” I agree.
Daija giggles. “So, how are things with Spence after last night?” she asks innocently.
I sigh, telling her the truth. “We had mind-blowing sex and pretended like nothing happened, but then he really wanted to talk this morning.”
“And you don’t?”
“I need to get my head straight. Figure out what I actually want.” I hate how I left things with Spencer. I care about him deeply, and I would never want him out of my life for good, but I’m not sure it’s possible to go back to friends after the things we’ve done.
She looks at me skeptically, almost like a disappointed mother. “Babe. You’re being kinda wishy-washy.”
Shit. I know. And wishy-washy is not a cute look. I didn’t even tell her he told me how much he cares about me. She’d be even more disappointed in me.
“I just need some more time,” I say lamely.
“The whole summer wasn’t long enough?” Daija retorts.
“It hasn’t been the whole summer,” I murmur defensively, shoving another spoonful of ice cream into my mouth. “Not quite.”
“Mmm hmm.” She doesn’t press me further, focusing back on our show.
I do the same, and we both space out watching Bridgerton and eating ice cream like it’s an innate behavior and not our mutual guilty pleasure.
Daija’s phone buzzes on the end table, startling me out of my trance.
“Jake’s calling, let me answer it real quick.” She pauses the show and taps the green button. “Hey. I’m with Tate. You’re on speakerphone.”
“Oh, good ’cause I gotta be quick, and you both need to hear this.”
For some reason, my heart sinks, and an uneasy feeling settles into the pit of my stomach.
“So, um. Not sure how to say this, but . . .”
“Just spit it out,” I demand.
“Jake!” someone shouts in the background. “Customers!”
“Look, I’m at work, and if my boss catches me on the phone again, I’ll probably be fired.”
“You called us, now what the heck is going on?” I demand.
“Spencer’s in the hospital.”
“What?!” Daija shrieks.
Sounds become muffled, and my vision blurs, darkening around the edges.
I’m sorry. He’s where?
He was fine the last time I saw him. More than fine. Fear and regret take hold of me, squeezing the oxygen from my lungs. I’m an idiot for fucking him and pushing him away—this kind, amazing man that constantly puts me first.
And now he’s in the hospital because of me?
I’m so selfish.
“Shit. Shit. I really gotta go. I’ll call you in fifteen minutes on my break.”
“Jake!” Daija and I shriek in unison.
Did he seriously just leave us hanging like that?
I grab my phone and quickly text Spencer.
Are you okay? Jake said you’re in the hospital!
I tap my foot impatiently as my heart begins to race, and I stare at the screen, waiting for a response.
Nothing.
Please text me back. I’m really worried about you.
Worst-case scenarios crash through my mind like a bulldozer wreaking havoc on my very foundation.
What if he has a concussion? Or a broken rib? What if he somehow slipped into a decades-long coma, and I never get a chance to tell him how I truly feel? That I think about him when I’m at work, and I look forward to our lunch dates. That his flowers and tender care mean more than he’ll ever know.
Fuck!
I run my fingers through my hair impatiently. “Has it been fifteen minutes yet?” I ask Daija.
“No. Sorry, babe. It’s been two. I’m sure it’s nothing serious, or Jake would have been more urgent.”
“But Jake’s an idiot, and Spencer isn’t answering!”
My breathing is picking up, and after everything that’s happened recently, I’m on the verge of a panic attack or maybe even a freaking heart attack.
“Tate. Listen to me. I need you to take a nice, deep breath and let it out slowly. Please. You’re starting to hyperventilate.”
I close my eyes and focus on my breathing like she said. After a few deep breaths, I get my breathing under control, but my heart is still racing.
“I never got a chance to tell him how much he means to me,” I murmur breathlessly.
“Stop talking like that, tater tot. You can tell him next time you see him,” Daija insists, but she doesn’t know that.
What if there isn’t a next time?
“I need to use the restroom,” I blurt, jumping up from the couch and rushing into my bathroom.
Resting my forearms on the sink, I lean forward and close my eyes, pushing through the dizziness. When I finally look at myself in the mirror, I don’t like what I see.
I’ve been selfish with Spencer’s time. Selfish with his attention, and now look where he’s at. In the hospital, being poked and prodded, all because of me.
The guilt is astronomical.
I turn the faucet on, splashing cold water against my face in an attempt to snap out of the melancholy.
“It’s Jake!” Daija suddenly shouts from the living room, and I burst from the bathroom, nearly tripping over my own two feet in my attempt to get back to her.
As soon as she accepts the call, I don’t waste time with pleasantries, getting straight to the point instead.
“What happened? What’s wrong with Spencer,” I demand. “Tell me everything you know.”
“His mom stopped by the house unannounced this afternoon, took one look at his face, and immediately drove him to the hospital. Don’t worry, though, he’s fine, as far as I know. He’s actually pissed about it, but his mom said it was nonnegotiable.”
A weight lifts from my chest, and I take a deep breath, releasing it with a huge sigh of relief.
“Jake! You didn’t need to scare us like that,” Daija admonishes. “I thought something was seriously wrong!”
Me too. I’m sitting on the edge of my seat and gripping the armrest like it’s a roller coaster ride. I attempt to relax my stiff muscles, but I won’t be fully at ease until I hear from Spencer himself.
“Sorry?” Jake offers, but it sounds more like a question. Like he’s unsure if an apology is necessary.
Daija huffs and rolls her eyes.
“If you hear from him before me, please tell him to call me,” I beg. “Or even a text, so I know everything’s okay.”
“Will do,” Jake agrees, ending the call.
Poor Spence.
I flop back on the couch, groaning exaggeratedly.
“Fuck my life,” I whine, grabbing the throw blanket from the back of the couch and covering up with it. “I’m going to sleep.”
I turn my phone volume all the way up and close my eyes, deciding a nap will help pass the time.
“That actually sounds like a really good idea, but I’m going to my room. Let me know if you hear from Spence,” Daija says, grabbing our ice cream bowls and setting them in the sink.
“Thanks for always being there for me, sweets.”
“Of course.” She runs her long nails through my hair, affectionately scratching my scalp before disappearing down the hallway.
I tug the blanket over my head, wanting to disappear from the world while I wait to hear from Spencer.
My phone finally pings with a text, startling me out of a hazy dreamland that I can’t quite recall. My mind is foggy for a moment before I blink reality back into focus.
It’s Spencer. Finally.
Unfortunately it’s true. I’m currently in the ER. My mom wouldn’t take no for an answer. It’s actually embarrassing.
Jake really scared me.
All I could think about was what if something happens to him, and we never have an opportunity to give this thing between us a real chance.
It’s time to face the music. I want to be with Spencer beyond just a friends-with-benefits arrangement, and I don’t want an expiration date either. There’s no denying it any longer. No more excuses.
I’m okay. I promise.
Can I come over later? I’m ready to talk.
Of course. The doctor’s coming back in with my X-rays. I’ll text you when I get home.
My brows crease, and my stomach drops.
X-rays?
Now I’m worried all over again.
“Everything okay, babe?” Daija asks, wandering down the hallway with a sleepy face and a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.
“Yeah. Spencer says he’s fine, but he also had to get X-rays. I’m trying not to freak out all over again.”
“Wanna watch more Bridgerton to take your mind off things?” she asks, plopping back down on the couch.
I set my phone face-down on the cushion. “Yeah. Play it. I’m going over there when he gets home. There’s nothing I can do right now.”
Daija hums her agreement and plays the show. “You gonna tell him you want to give things a try?”
“Yeah, I think so,” I admit with a little smile.
Daija squeals, kicking her feet under the blanket. “Oh my God! Does that mean we can go on a triple date with Toby and Shane when they get back?”
I give her the side-eye. “Hold your horses,” I tease. She hasn’t told Jake how she feels either. She’s getting way ahead of herself.
But I guess it could happen.