The Bold and the Bullheaded by Willow Aster

Chapter Seventeen

Spence

“Who the hell pissed in your cornflakes again?” Gus hisses after I toss a bag of grout at him and the whole thing explodes all over his feet.

“No one. We have work to do,” I say, before grabbing the broom to sweep the mess up.

I have been in a perpetual bad mood for a week. Emma has gone radio silent and I haven’t seen her or heard from her since we spent the night together. This has never happened to me. If I spend the night with a woman, they are usually all over me. I’ve never felt this close to another person, yet she’s pushed me so far away, I don’t know that I’ll ever hear from her again.

Mya insisted I give her space and I’m trying to listen since she knows her better than anyone, but I’m about done with this bullshit. I like her. I like her a lot. And I know she feels the same about me. So why are we staying away from one another?

“You’ve been a dickwick all week and I’ve had enough. You didn’t help me move out at all. You’ve been snapping at me on the job. I’m over it. I’m taking a me day.” Gus brushes off the powder covering his pants and storms to the door.

“What the fuck is a me day?” I have zero patience for his bullshit today.

“A me day is a day to celebrate me, you grumpy motherfucker. You’ve been bringing me down all week, and I need to take some time.”

I groan. “Wouldn’t we all like to take some time? It’s not an option. Pull your head out of your ass and stop whining.”

“I will not. I’m going to get a massage, go get a nice lunch. Hey, maybe I’ll grow some balls and call the girl I like,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Who the hell do you like?” I ask, because that came out of left field.

“I’m being sarcastic, you dickfilet. You like someone and you are moping around like an idiot.”

“I’m not talking about this with you. You’re the one who fucked it all up by telling her I liked her.”

“I’m the one who got you in the door. You’re the one who couldn’t stay there,” he says, and I see red.

I storm toward him and punch the wall beside him. “Go take your me day, and get out of my face.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, brother. You need to figure your shit out.” Gus storms out the door and I turn back to clean up the mess.

He’s correct. I’ve been a dick. I didn’t help him move because I couldn’t handle listening to his advice anymore. Like he’d know how to handle a woman like Emma. The guy has the attention span of a fruit fly.

I toss the broom to the side and run my hand through my hair. Maybe he’s right. Maybe it is time to do something about it. Because this shit isn’t working.

My cousin, Hazel, met me at Mean Mug the other night and she actually helped me out. I’ve always been able to talk to her and she told me to give Emma time, insisting that she would come around. But Hazel doesn’t know what I’m up against. Walls higher than Mount Vesuvius and just as likely to erupt.

I pull out my phone and dial Pen. My little sister is wise beyond her years.

“Hey, brother. What’s up?”

“Not much. Just got in a fight with Gus and he stormed out of here saying he was taking a me day.”

She laughs and I hold the phone away from my ear.

“No one loves a me day more than our little Gussy.” She snorts. “What is he so mad about?”

“He said I’ve been a dick. I tossed a bag of grout to him and it exploded all over his legs.” Now I find it difficult not to laugh, because that shit is funny. This is the thing with my brothers and Pen too: we can fight and shout and get angry—but at the end of the day, we love each other.

“Spence…”

“Peeeennn,” I say, sarcasm oozing from my voice. I know I’m about to get a lecture.

“Is this about Emma?”

“Is nothing sacred in this family?” I ask.

“No. I hope not. Mya actually filled me in. She’s really rooting for you two. And I love Emma. She’s salty enough to handle you,” she says.

“Yeah, well, she wants nothing to do with me, so, not really sure how to move forward when she asked me to leave her alone.”

“Since when have you ever listened to what someone asked you to do?” she says.

“I don’t know.” I run a hand through my hair and drop to sit on the chair in the corner, looking out through the floor-to-ceiling windows at the bustling city below. “She’s different.”

“You like her?”

I nod. I know she can’t see me, so I finally speak. “I do.”

“Have you told her?”

“In so many words, yes,” I say.

“Not in so many words. Not everyone speaks your unusual love language.” She laughs. “Have you said the words, ‘I like you and I want to give this a try,’ or anything close to that?”

“I’m not a complete dickhead, no. Trust me, Pen. She knows.”

“Sometimes people are scared. They need to hear the words. Not that you want to sleep with her. Not that you want to fight with her. That you actually like her. Exactly as she is.”

I think about it. I don’t believe I’ve been this specific, but I also don’t know that I’m willing to get my balls clipped by the woman again.

“I’ll think about it.”

“You know Mom pushed Dad away when they met? It took him so many tries to win her over. But sometimes you meet someone that you’re willing to take all the risks for.”

“You sure you aren’t a psychology major?” I chuckle as I start sweeping again.

“Nope. Just a girl with too many brothers to manage. You’ve all forced me to be very aware of my feelings so I can help you clowns with all your emotional turmoil.”

“Ouch. Tell me how you really feel,” I say over my laughter, already feeling better after talking to my sister. I call it getting Penned. The girl has a gift for kicking our asses and straightening us up. And I love her for it.

“I call it as I see it. Just stop being so tough and tell the girl how you feel. You’re Spence freaking Taylor. Leader of the shit show. You’ve got this.”

“Thanks, sis. School going okay?”

“Yep! Excited to see you guys for Thanksgiving.”

“Me too. I’m ready to come home for a bit. I need some of Mom’s cooking.”

“Take care of business before you come home so you won’t be moping around. Because when you mope, Gus pouts, Caden gets quiet, and Jesse tugs at his hair and looks like a mad scientist. Let’s avoid that, yes?”

“Love you, Bossy. I’ll call you in a few days.”

“Love you,” she shouts, and I end the call.

She’s right. It’s time to lay my cards out.

* * *

I put my pride on the shelf, dammit.

I open the door to go talk to Emma and she’s standing outside my door, hand poised to knock. Her face is puffy and red and she looks so pitiful that I don’t stop to think about it, I wrap my arms around her and hold her against me while backing us inside.

She cries like her heart is broken and it fucking breaks mine in the process. I’ve never seen her anything close to this, and I would move heaven and hell to keep from seeing her like this again.

“Queenie, it’s okay,” I tell her softly. “I’ve got you. And I’m not going anywhere,” I whisper.

She shudders against me, her tears making my shirt damp, and then lifts her head up, eyes wide. “Is your girlfriend here?”

“Girl? What?” I frown down at her.

“I saw her with you.” She gasps, a fresh stream of tears rushing down her face. “She was really pretty. You-you looked re-really ha-happy.” She barely gets it out and I put my hand on her face, wiping her tears away with my thumb.

“I don’t have a girlfriend. I don’t even know who you mean.”

“Mean Mug. Red hair. You smiled bigger than I’ve ever seen you smile.”

I start grinning and she looks so miserable, but I feel the sudden urge to laugh. “Hazel. My cousin.”

I expect her to look relieved, but she puts her head in her hands. “I’m so sorry. This is why I don’t cry. I knew—” she takes a shuddering breath, “—I knew if I ever started, I’d never be able to stop.”

“It’s okay,” I tell her. My hands are on her shoulders and it’s such a helpless feeling, not knowing how to help her.

“She’s gone.”

She’s jumping topics all over the place, but I get a sick feeling in my gut because I know exactly who she means. I know who has broken her heart again.

“I’m so sorry, Em. What happened?”

She pulls away and reaches for a paper towel to blow her nose. I grimace and stop her, handing her a tissue instead. It’s then I notice her shirt with a simple dandelion on it. Written above, it says, “Blow me.”

“Blow you, huh.”

That gets the slightest smile out of her. “It was that kind of night. I needed something about me to have a little humor.”

She leans against the counter and her face crinkles up again, the tears rolling in long streaks down her cheeks. “When I got home from work, my mom was there. She’s been doing that, showing up and asking for money. I’ve given her a little bit—well, a lot when it’s all added up—but tonight she was drunk and on something too … and so mean.” She takes a deep breath and seems to get stronger with each word, even though what she’s saying is fucking awful. “When I wouldn’t give her what she wanted, she listed all the reasons why I will never be worth her time. Never worth anyone’s time.”

“Oh Emma, that—”

“And all I can think about is how right she is.” She looks at me then and the hurt is so deep. “I’m sorry for the way I acted the morning after we—”

I hold my hand up, stopping her.

“No, I need to say this. I made it seem like it meant nothing to me.” She bites down on her lip and takes a deep breath again. “I promise you, that’s not the truth at all.” She blows her nose again. “I didn’t think I’d come over here and bare my soul. I really just wanted to say that last bit—it did mean something to me. You mean something to me. And you didn’t deserve that, the way I made you feel after we shared that night … I really hope you’ll forgive me.”

I step closer to her, her words, her apology—all of it—healing the open wound she left in me.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” I tell her, pulling her close to me again. She lets me for a moment and then backs away, sniffing and trying to smile.

“Thanks for hearing me out.”

She starts to walk to the door and I put my hand out, stopping her. “Wait, where are you going?”

“Home. I want to give you time to process what I said. Decide if you will forgive me. I don’t expect anything from you. At all. I just had to apologize for my awful behavior.”

I bark out a laugh now. “I was actually on my way to come see you. Sit down, please. I have something to say to you.”

She studies me before walking over to the barstool and taking a seat.

“First, I want to say that I’m really sorry about your mother. You deserve so much better than that, Em.”

She smiles, and a single tear streams down her cheek. I catch it with my thumb and her lip trembles as she tries to speak. “Do you know that I haven’t cried in thirteen years? I was five when she left and spent the next eight years getting my heart torn out every time she came through town. When I turned thirteen and she didn’t show after promising to take me out for my birthday, I swore I’d never cry again. I don’t know what happened tonight.”

“Maybe it’s time to stop holding back. Let the tears fall. Who gives a shit. Your mom hurt you, and it’s okay to feel that. And maybe it’s time to feel other things too.” I’m crowding her, my hands are on each side of her face.

“What other things did you have in mind?”

“This.” I raise a brow and wait for her gaze to meet mine. “I’m all in, Emma. I like you. I like everything about you. I want to give this a try. No more secrets. No more hiding things. I want you. All of you.”

She bites down on her plump bottom lip and looks away. “I don’t know how to do this, Spence. I’ve never dated anyone for any great length. I usually cut ties and run.”

I place my hand beneath her chin and turn her to face me. “No more running. It’s not going to be easy, and it won’t be perfect, but we can agree not to run, can’t we? But that means you have to meet me halfway.”

“That also means I get to kiss you whenever I want, right?” she asks, and her lips turn up in the corners.

“Fuck, yeah. I’m yours. Have your way with me, she-devil.”

She laughs. “Why do you want to give this a try? You know I’m not easy. I’m sure you’ll be running for the hills in no time.”

I narrow my gaze and study her. “I said no running. That works both ways. And I want to give this a try because I can’t stop thinking about you. We’re good together. You know it and I know it. And I’d rather fight with you than get along with anyone else. I don’t jump into things lightly, Emma. I’ve been feeling things for you for a while. Things I’ve never felt before. And I’m tired of pretending it isn’t there.”

“What kind of things are you feeling for me, Spence Taylor?”

“All the things. But I’m not touching you unless you agree to give it a shot. You don’t get to run from my bed. I’m done playing games with you.”

“So bossy. Fine. You can have your way with me, and I promise I will not run from your bed.”

I kiss her forehead and wrap my arms around her. Breathing in all her goodness. She fits next to me like she belongs here.

Now I just have to figure out how to get her to stay.