“For the building next door, dear?” I must have shock written all over my face, because she just laughs.
“Oh, sweetheart, when I first saw that building go up for sale, I knew you would take the leap. We all knew it was her dream. I loved your mother. We all loved your mother. She supported any person who crossed her path, reaching for their own dream. It will be lovely to see her finally get hers. And we are all here to help make that happen.”
Tears sting my eyes as the gravity of her words settles in. My heart still aches with grief from time to time, but the thought of doing this dulls it some. She deserves this; she deserves the world. I want this. I really want this.
“Thank you, Alice. She loved you! I love you.” The tears are now falling again, wetting my cheeks. She pulls me into a giant old lady hug, and I hug her back just as hard. I know she hurts, too.
I’m feeling a shift in my life. Excitement and a whole lot of fear run through me. I’m going to do this. And tonight I’m going to have dinner with Finn, who is sweet and kind, and sexier than fuck. His chest, his arms, his lips. Don’t even get me started on the hair. I’m hard 90% of the time when I’m around him.
I don’t know what he sees in me. He’s a cool, tattooed, leather jacket sex god, and I’m a makeup wearing Doctor Who book nerd. On paper, we don’t fit.
I have never had someone be so out in the open with me before. The few guys I did date were never big on PDA.
Blake wouldn’t even hold my hand in public. The first time I wore eyeshadow he wouldn’t even walk by me. I confronted him about it. He said it embarrassed him to be seen with me.
At least it only took me a couple of months to realize he was an asshole. Although let’s be real, I should have known on the first date.
With Finn, everything feels different. The air around me feels different. I feel different. I don’t even know what we are to each other, and yet he has already flirted with me, held my hand, and kissed me, all in public. He doesn’t make me feel ashamed of myself. I feel empowered to be me, gay as all hell, Spencer McCallum. I like makeup and lace underwear, and with Finn, all things sex. The way his hands and lips roam my body with no hesitation. I need to figure out how to let go.
This feeling I have, right now, about myself, is how I want to live the rest of my life. Now that I’ve found it, I need to figure out how to keep it.
Hidden beneath the rubble, over the course of the last few months, I’ve found myself. The clouds that have hung over me since Mom died are thinning. Peaks of sun are shining through. I don’t know why now, but maybe after almost 5 years, it’s time to stop mourning the past and see the future, placing confidence in who I am.
CHAPTER14
Finn
I liftthe lid off the pan on the stove, taking in the creamy garlic smell. My mouth is watering and my stomach is grumbling. I should have had more than coffee today, but I have been a big jumble of nerves.
Spencer is coming for dinner and I want to impress him, which just feels… weird. I don’t try to impress people. Heck, I don’t particularly like people in general.
“Dude, are you there?”
“What? Yeah, I’m here. Sorry.”
After racking my brain for a recipe I could actually make, I decided on shrimp linguine. Which means I needed to call in the big guy.
“Did you remember to clean the shrimp?”
“Yes,” I say with a shudder.
“Did you stir the cream in slowly?”
“Yes, Chef!” I say in mock salute.
Having a chef for a best friend definitely has its perks, and teaching my inept ass how to cook one decent meal is one of them.
According to Beckett, you should always have one fancy meal up your sleeve and where I came from, they considered shrimp linguine really fancy.
“Okay, are you gonna tell me who you are cooking this meal for? It must be important if you are calling me for help.”
I sigh. I don’t want to say too much, because we have not really defined what we are or what we are doing.
It would be nice to have someone to talk to, though.
“Spencer is coming over.”
“Wait, who? Like Spencer, Spencer?” Beckett asks with surprise and a little humor behind his tone.
