Something Like Want Page 10

  “You know what?” he growled. “We aren’t doing this. Not anymore.”

  I was so confused I couldn’t think straight. All I knew was that he’d come back, so I wrapped my hands around his waist, hanging on so he couldn’t get away again. “I don’t…Spencer, what…I…”

  The thunder abruptly left his face as his gaze roved all over mine. Whatever he saw made him understand something, because his features softened and he went from gripping me to holding on.

  He lifted one of his hands from my shoulder and slid it into my hair. “Want to have a real conversation?”

  I nodded frantically. He’d messed with my head from the first time I’d been with him, but one thing I’d finally learned was that he was willing to have conversations. And if I actually participated and listened, then I wouldn’t spend months wallowing in hurt and anger.

  I’d owned my part of it, and in that moment, I was just so grateful he hadn’t left that I’d agree to anything.

  Spencer led me back to bed. He sat facing me instead of pulling me back into his arms. He still wore his jeans, though he was carrying the shirt he hadn’t put back on. He tossed it behind him, then took my hands.

  He rubbed his thumb gently over my knuckles. “When I asked you if we were moving on, what did you think I meant?”

  I swallowed hard. Then I gave him the truth. “That you were over fucking me, and you didn’t want anything more.”

  For a moment he squeezed his eyes shut and let out a humorless laugh. “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  He opened his eyes and looked me right in the eye. “Why did you think that?”

  “Because…” I answered helplessly.

  I didn’t say anything more, but neither did Spencer. He just kept looking at me. Finally I sighed heavily and said, “We, you know, got off to a bad start. And then things were better, but you never said we were going to be anything more. And last time I assumed we were going to be more, you did what you did, and I wasn’t going to go through that again. I couldn’t let myself.”

  I didn’t mean for it to come out accusingly, but it certainly sounded that way; I didn’t do anything to try to fix it. I was hurt and confused, and he wasn’t talking. What was I supposed to think?

  “Yeah,” he said, “okay. Our history isn’t the greatest. So I’m just gonna lay out what I want, all right? And then you do the same.” He waited for my nod before he continued. “I want you. All the time. I want you to be mine, I want to date just you. Only I want to stop this dance we’ve been doing and just be together.”

  “Really?” My surprise was evident in my tone.

  Spencer quirked his lips into a sort of smile. “Yeah, really. It’s all I’ve wanted from the beginning, from that first time I took you to bed. Then everything went shitty and you hated me. But it didn’t stop me wanting you.”

  “Me neither,” I admitted when he took a breath. He stared straight at me and I offered a weak chuckle. “Even when I hated your guts, I still wanted you.”

  Spencer lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles. “And now?”

  “You know I still want you now. And I don’t hate you. And I want what you said.”

  Okay, so it wasn’t the most eloquent I’d ever been, but I couldn’t seem to find better words. Where was a scriptwriter when you needed one?

  Relief flooded his features and he tackle-hugged me to the bed. He squeezed me so tightly that for a moment I couldn’t breathe. But I didn’t care; I was holding him back just as tight. God, he felt so good in my arms. He always had.

  When he let me go, he rolled onto his side and propped his head up on his hand so he could keep looking at me. His other hand dropped to my chest, and he started playing with the small patch of chest hair I hadn’t waxed in far too long.

  “I love you, Alex. It’s probably too soon, but I do. And I want more of you, so I can fall so hard I never break free of it.”

  My breath caught. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I didn’t know what to do with that, what to say, didn’t know if what I felt for him was love. I cared about him deeply…but love? Like he said, it was too soon. Wasn’t it?

  Spencer kissed me hard until I was a panting pile of mess beneath him, and then lifted up so he could look me in the eye again. So I could see the seriousness on his face. “You’re mine?”

  “Yes.” I hadn’t even hesitated.

  “That’s all I need to hear. We’ll work on the rest.”

  I got a little choked up. This man, the one I’d thought was a horrible human being, had turned out to be so much more. He wanted me, I wanted him, and we were going to work toward something amazing. I could feel it deep down.

  He understood me in a way I hadn’t even known I wanted. I was sure it wouldn’t be easy, but I was fine with that. Despite everything we’d been through, we’d gotten to this moment. And both of us wanted it to work.

  That was enough.

  Epilogue

  Oak Harbor in August was a lot more pleasant than in autumn. At least I didn’t feel like parts of me were going to freeze off. This time, Spencer and I flew into Bellingham together, and after we rented a car, I made him drive across Deception Pass Bridge. It was a lot easier to traverse when I had my eyes closed. Spencer only teased me a little.

  Vincent had finally finished the movie. It was scored and the soundtrack was in place. He was hosting the first showing to the cast, crew, and a few special guests. With Vincent’s money and clout, he could buy out the entire Blue Fox Drive-In for an evening in the summer—the height of their busy season. I couldn’t imagine how much that would cost, but Vincent thought that since the entire movie had been shot in Oak Harbor, it was only fitting the first showing would happen at one of the town’s staples. I found it charming and was all for it.

  Spencer wasn’t quite as enamored as I was, but I chalked that up to the fact we’d be watching it in the car and the rental counter had given us a tiny sedan. Not exactly conducive to comfort, but I figured we could cuddle up in the back seat and still see the screen just fine.

  Six months of being in a relationship and we were still in the honeymoon phase. At least mostly. The first time we’d gone out in public, holding hands and even sharing a kiss, the media went wild. Unfortunately most reported it as a publicity stunt. One particularly persistent photographer had gotten right up in our faces, and for a moment I’d been certain Spencer was going to deck him. I managed to drag Spencer away, and it was only later at home, when my ass was sore from the pounding he’d given me, that I convinced him it didn’t matter what everyone out there thought, as long as we knew the truth.

  He hated the intrusiveness, hated the speculation and being fodder for the rags. But it came with the territory, and we knew it. The public thought they had a right to our personal lives. Even though it wasn’t right, it was the way things were. The only way they would see it wasn’t a publicity stunt or a flash-in-the-pan romance was for us to keep being together. And since that was what we both wanted, I was sure the rumors and gossip would die down in time.

  We were talking about moving in together. Spencer had a huge house in West Hollywood, but I loved my house in Los Feliz and I didn’t want to give it up. Spencer’s family was well-off and he’d always had whatever he wanted. While my dad wasn’t exactly poor, we’d lived on a more modest budget. The house was the first thing I’d bought for myself, even before my Lexus, and I just couldn’t bear the thought of selling it. As always, Spencer understood. His things were slowly migrating to my home, and I knew before long he’d sell his house and permanently take up residence in mine. I was looking forward to it.

  We pulled into the drive-in just after seven. The front row was already sporting a dozen or more cars, and a huge tent had been erected farther back in the parking lot. Spencer eased the car into a free spot where we’d have a good view of the screen. When we exited the vehicle, we stretched and eased our sore muscles, and then Spencer took my hand and we walked toward the tent.

  It
was unlike any premiere I’d ever been too—really more like an intimate showing than a premiere. The movie would be shown to the world at the Toronto Film Festival next month, but this was just for us.

  Everyone was gathered in the tent. Tables were lined up with food, and still more were arranged for sitting down and enjoying each other. There were hugs, and I got a warm feeling in my chest as I reconnected with the people who’d made this amazing movie with me.

  I got to meet the writer for the first time. He was shy and awkward, but had more eloquence in his little finger than I did in my whole body.

  For more than two hours, we mingled and ate and caught up. There was a lot of shoptalk, but we spoke about our personal lives too. Brandon and I ended up spending almost an hour in a mutual-admiration conversation while our boyfriends looked on indulgently. I loved his Starz series Robber Barons and was thrilled it had been picked up for a third season. He, waxed poetic about Angel’s Fall and said he’d watched it multiple times.

  When the sun finally set and it was dark enough, Vincent called for our attention. Immediately silence fell in the tent, and I didn’t miss his smug smile.

  “Thank you all for coming to this rather unconventional showing.” He paused for applause and laughter. “From the moment I read the script for Talking with Ghosts, I knew it was a movie that needed to be made. I just didn’t know how it could possibly be done. When Dan suggested I do it on my own, I thought he was crazy. But he knew me and that if I was this passionate about a project, it would be nothing short of a success. With an exceptional script in my hands, I went about casting it with my dream actors. And before I knew it, we were making the film.

  “What you’re about to see is a labor of love. We made magic, ladies and gentleman! This film is one of the highlights of my career. Of course, it wasn’t always easy, but the best things never are.

  “And so now, without further ado, I hope you enjoy the film.”

  There was a round of raucous applause, and then we all filed out of the tent and to our cars. I gently shoved Spencer into the back seat, flipped the key so the battery engaged, then tuned the radio to the station in the info packet to pick up the sound. I lowered the windows so we didn’t get overheated, and when everything was ready, slid in beside him.

  Spencer instantly pulled me into his arms.

  The film started with a winding road. As the song began and the credits popped up, I felt more content than I had since I was a child. When Vincent had asked me to sign on, I already knew this movie was something special. I had no idea it would make my life complete.

  I pressed my lips against Spencer’s throat, then whispered in his ear. “I love you.”

  The only reaction to his hearing the words from me for the first time was a tiny jolt and a gentle squeeze. Then he kissed me quickly before focusing back on the screen.

  “You’re all that I want.”

  I breathed out, settled in, and watched the movie.

  THE END

  ABOUT KRIS T. BETHKE

  Kris T. Bethke has been a voracious reader for pretty much her entire life and has been writing stories for nearly as long. An avid and prolific daydreamer, she always has a story in her head.

  She spends most of her free time reading, writing, or knitting/crocheting her latest project. Her biggest desire is to find a way to accomplish all three tasks at one time. A classic muscle car will always turn her head, and naps on the weekend are one of her greatest guilty pleasures. She lives in a converted attic with a way too fluffy cat and the voices in her head. She’ll tell you she thinks that’s a pretty good deal. Kris believes that love is love, no matter the gender of people involved, and that all love deserves to be celebrated.

  For more information, visit kristbethke.com.

  ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC

  JMS Books LLC is a small queer press with competitive royalty rates publishing LGBT romance, erotic romance, and young adult fiction. Visit jms-books.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!