“That sounds fine.” She hugged him back, visibly brightening at the prospect of getting to leave the crowd, and Bacon waited until she had headed out of the hangar to walk over to Spencer.
“Can we talk?” he asked.
“Figured that was my line.” Spencer’s eyes were guarded. “I got your message. I wasn’t going to just leave, but I don’t want to take you away from your people...”
“You’re not. I think all the back-slapping and picture taking is done. I sent my mom ahead to the truck, so I’ve got a minute if you walk with me.”
“I can do that.” Spencer followed him outside. “That was a really moving ceremony. The little girl who pinned on her mother’s anchors was so sweet. You should all be so proud of your achievements.”
“Spencer.” Bacon pulled up short next to a tree. “Why are you here? And don’t tell me you’re writing a story about pinning ceremonies.”
“It would make a good story...” A small smile crept across Spencer’s face, but it was quickly extinguished. “But, no, I came for you. I wanted to see you. And I know I probably shouldn’t have. It was self-indulgent of me, wanting to see your big day.”
“I’m glad you came.” He really was, no matter what was coming next, even if Spencer was about to break his heart for the second time.
“Really? I thought you might be pissed. You’ve got every right to hate me right now.”
“Oh, I’m still angry.” Bacon started walking again, not able to keep still with all the emotions ricocheting through him. “And hurt. You all but shoved me away, Spencer. You made your choice very clear. How did you expect I’d feel?”
“I never wanted to hurt you. It killed me too, letting you go. Couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t eat. Couldn’t write.”
Bacon was having trouble summoning a lot of sympathy when he had a feeling it was the last one that Spencer really cared about.
“That why you’re here? Writer’s block? Need my magic dick to get you writing again? And then you’ll get back to treating me like crap, moving on?”
Spencer’s eyes went wide and his skin mottled, like Bacon had slapped him. “Wow. Okay. You really weren’t kidding about angry. And I deserve that. But, no, I’m not here to cure my writer’s block. I came to apologize. To ask for a second chance.”
For two weeks, Bacon had waited for him to say those words, but now that the moment was here, he wasn’t sure how to react. He slowed to a stop, leaned against a lamp post.
“I’m not sure.”
“I’m dropping the book.” Spencer licked his lips and looked away, uncharacteristically nervous. Probably because he knew Bacon was about to unleash on him.
“You are not. Absolutely, positively not. That book needs you to write it.”
“And I need you in my life more.” Spencer was nothing if not earnest.
And fuck. Bacon could not be doing this right now. He’d waited for those words, but wasn’t sure he could ask Spencer to pay that price. He made a frustrated noise.
“Just think about it, okay? Go, have your meal with your mom. You earned it. I reserved a hotel room here. Text me after dinner, or anytime really, if you want to talk.”
“Oh we’re not done.” He gave Spencer a hard stare. “And you’re coming.”
“I’m doing what?” Spencer blinked.
“You want another chance with me?”
“I do.”
“Then impress my mom.”
“Seriously?”
Oh, Bacon had forgotten how much fun it could be to knock Spencer off-kilter. “Oh yeah. You want me? I’m done being your secret boy toy. I want the real deal if we do this again.”
“If?”
“If,” he said firmly. It wasn’t just a matter of making Spencer work for it. He honestly wasn’t sure where his own thoughts lay—he did not want Spencer giving up the book for him. He didn’t care if Spencer had the worst case of writer’s block ever, he was going to write that. Everything else...
Well, he just wasn’t sure. But the part of him that was glad Spencer had come down to watch his ceremony was in there too, as was the part that wanted Spencer to meet his mom. He was more than a little bit of a mess. And if doing dinner bought him some time to think, so much the better.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“This is a crazy idea.” Spencer tried to keep up with Del’s determined march across the parking lot.
“Yup. Reckless and impulsive. That’s me, remember? But this isn’t one of my worst ideas.”
“Oh?”
“You want to be friends, right?” There was something uncertain on Del’s face but he continued on. “Wouldn’t friends be better than this awful...missing each other business?”
“Us together would be better,” Spencer countered. Then because Del had said he needed time to think and he didn’t want to be the guy continually going for the hard sell all evening, he added, “But, yes, I’d like to think we could be friends too. I miss the friendship stuff almost more than the relationship stuff.”