“Sure,” he says noncommittally. “Aren’t you supposed to be on shift right now?”
I nod. “Yep. Heading back down right this minute.”
“Good.” He shuts the door in my face, and I stand there a moment, utterly bewildered.
JULIET
After my shift, I go home and pace around my apartment, thinking about everything that’s happened over the past few months. Moving here, my chemistry with Spenser, ourincredible night flight over Harmony Glen. Yelling at Braeden and then admitting to my friends that I have real, grown-up feelings for this mothman.
And then, just when I was ready to act on it, he ghosted me.
I shake my head.
Unacceptable.
We danced around our feelings for a long time before we could admit that we were attracted to each other. I’m not willing to do all that again. This is just like when we had the misunderstanding about the display and he ditched me, but on a bigger scale. I get that he needs solitude to process things sometimes, but there’s a difference between needing space and fully bailing on a person.
I don’t know if I’m mad or sad or just confused, but I do know one thing: Spenser and I are gonna have this out, and when we’re done, we’ll be together or we won’t.
But either way, I’ll know what’s going on.
I wait until it’s closing time for the store, then march back over there. I run into Jin, who’s leaving.
“Spenser still in there?”
Jin nods.
“Good. See you tomorrow.” I stride past them and push open the door that has yet to be locked. I glance around to make sure there are no customers left—which there shouldn’t be if Jin is already gone—and when I’m sure, I yell.
“Spenser Nightwing! Get your ass over here!”
Spenser appears from the back, where his office is. “Juliet? What the hell?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “What the hell, indeed. We’re gonna have it out, mister.”
He walks closer and looks puzzled. “What are you talking about?”
I point back and forth to the space between our bodies. “I’m talking about us. About whatever this thing is that we have. This thing that we agreed to slowly explore before you ghosted me and changed our schedules, apparently deciding you don’t want to be with me. Which is fine, if that’s what you want, but be man enough to tell me to my face!”
He still looks baffled. “You’re the one who decided not to be with me.”
I cross my arms. “What are you talking about? I texted you, in what was basically a booty call. In fact, Icalledfor the booty call, even though I hate using my phone as a phone. I tried to find out why we don’t work together anymore. I came to your apartment this morning to talk and you said no. You’ve been avoiding me.”
“Because you think I’m too different and unusual to be with!” He shouts it, but the emotion in his voice is pain, not anger.
I take a deep breath and force myself to calm down. Yelling will not solve this. “That’s not something I ever said, so I need you to explain to me what you’re talking about, okay?”
“You did say it, though,” he argues in a low voice.
“When?”
“That night that we were gonna meet up. I went over to Hip Hops to wait for you, thinking I’d have a beer and watch whatever was on the TVs, and I heard you talking to Maggie. She asked you how you felt about me, and you said that I’m ‘different’ and ‘unusual.’ I’m too much of a monster for you, apparently. I should have known better than to get involved with a human.”
I blink several times, trying to process his statement. For the first time since I’ve known him, he’s being a boneheaded male. I don’t know what happened to thoughtful Spenser, but he’s been replaced by a jackass.
“Oh, my god, you own a bookstore. You read. You, of all people, should understand the importance of context.”
“What—”
