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“Hmm.” Spencer’s Adam’s apple dips. “I think you’re a lot more than that, though,” he says.
“Am I?” I blink up at him. “To be honest, if I’m not the one heading up the party, I don’t even know how to show up in the world.” My breath hitches, and I bite my lip.
Spencer shifts his weight, considering my comment. “The Tess McCoy fun factor is well established. But that doesn’t mean you have to be Goofball Barbie all the time. Not if you don’t want to be.”
“Goofball Barbie?” I snort, then my cheeks heat up.
Snorting. Great, Tess.
“I said what I said.” He cocks a brow. “Underneath all the red hair and hysterical laughter, you’re actually kinda deep.”
I screw up my face. “Deep?”
“Very,” he says. “You’re like … a black hole of depth.”
My lip twitches. “Aren’t black holes where everything goes to die?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Whatdoyou mean?” A bird squawks in the branches above us. “See? Even the bird doesn’t believe you.”
Spencer chuckles, then he’s quiet for a moment, like he’s weighing out his response. “I’m talking about the way you make people feel,” he says. “Your friends. Your family. The kids at camp. The counselors. The staff. Everyone. You know what they need, and you try to be that for them. It sucks everyone in.”
“Oh, great.” My reaction is a combination laugh and scoff. “So now I suck?”
He shakes his head, forces another chuckle. “You’re deflecting again,” he says. “But you’re notjustTess the Mess, are you?” He hoists an eyebrow, and I squirm under his scrutiny. Sometimes being understood is hard. “Admit it,” he says. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I’m pretty comfortable with chaos.”
“But that’s not all there is to you.” He lays a hand on my shoulder, and his touch is an aftershock from last night’s kiss. “I don’t know who you think you’re protecting by only letting people see your surfaces. But sometime? I’d like to get a look at what’s underneath.”
Spencer must hear the innuendo at the same time I do. And I’m sure it’s unintentional, because he drops his arm, and the tips of his ears burn red. “I wasn’t talking about—”
“I know.” I wipe my hands down the front of my running tights, and his gaze follows. Maybe thereissomething here. Something between us. Hope twists my stomach.
Don’t hope, Tess.
“So.” He lifts his eyes again. “Are you ready to tell me what’s wrong?” The space between his brows softens, and I open my mouth to claimnothing. But that’s just my knee-jerk reaction, and what’s going on inside me isn’t nothing. I’m tired of keeping things locked up.
“Apparently, Emi and Nash have gotten multiple offers on their house already, and I’m pretty sure they’re going to accept one. Soon.” Even as I say this, my heart feels lighter. Which is weird, considering I just admitted a heavy thing. Plus, being vulnerable with Spencer—with anyone—usually feels like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff. But he’s so calm. So practical and steady.
I feel safe saying this to him out loud.
“Anyway, you’re right,” I say. “I am sad.” He nods, not trying to make anything better. Not judging. He’s just listening. Giving me space. It’s like he whisperedfeel your feelings.So I do. “I’m sad they’re going to sell the house. I’m sad that I’ll have to move out.” This is only part of why I’m sad, but it’s enough to share for now. I can’t tell him I’m sad about us. Not now. Probably not ever. “I really love that house.” My voice catches on the wordlove.
Spencer clears his throat. “Tell me what you love about the place. I’d like to hear about it.”
I draw in a long breath, wondering if I can put to words what the home means to me. “For one thing, it’s the first place I ever paid for by myself. As a kid, I lived with my parents, and then they took care of my college dorm. After that, Mac stepped in and paid for my studio apartment. For a while there, I kept changing jobs—changing directions.” I lower my gaze. “People think everything’s always handed to me. That I don’t have to work. That I’m a flake.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure.” I lift my chin. “Everyone assumes we McCoys have money coming out of our ears. And sure, Mac does. He’d give me anything I asked for. But I don’t want to keep taking from him. So paying rent to Nash helped me prove—to Mac, to Nash, to everyone—that I could take care of myself.”
A door slams around the side of the building, and I gasp, even more startled than when the bird squawked. We both go silent, waiting to be sure no one’s coming. After half a minute, when everything’s still quiet, I finally exhale.
“What about you?” Spencer asks, his voice low.
“Whataboutme?”
