Page 24 of Kiss and Make Love

You’re too snippy, other kids won’t want to talk to you.

You’re too blunt, no one will be your friend.

Your face looks too sour, boys won’t want to date you.

You don’t dress girly enough. Why won’t you wear the clothes I bought you? You’ll be so much more attractive in these. No one is going to look twice at you dressed like that.

Then I came out to her when I was sixteen and let me tell you…that did not go well. She was pissed. I got pissed at her being pissed. Dad sat there like he always does, saying nothing, cowing to my mom. I believe her initial response was something likebisexuality isn’t real, it’s a fadandit’s a phase, you’ll grow out of it.And when I didn’tgrow out of it—when I started dating girls—she lost her mind. Not in the screaming, throwing things kinda way. More in the bury your head in the sand and pretend it’s not happening kinda way. I moved out when I was eighteen.

I don’t think we’ve had a genuine conversation since. Just curt pleasantries exchanged on the phone when necessary.

And that’s it. That’s my shitty mom in a nutshell. Overly critical, judgmental, never-good-enough-for-her mom. She never could smooth down my rough edges. I think she made me a lot rougher. Interesting how that works, isn’t it?

She hit send.

There. No one could accuse her of not being open. She liked Brett, and she wanted him to get to know her. Sometimes, it was tough opening up. Rough edges and all that.

She stretched out and waited for his reply, knowing it would be quick. Brett jumped at the chance to talk to her, and that simple gesture made her heart jump in turn.

From: Brett Monroe

To: Spencer Williams

Your mom sounds like she’d be challenging to grow up with. It’s difficult being critiqued as an adult, let alone as a child. Or trusting her with a huge part of your identity and having her ignore it. I’m sorry that’s what you had to deal with in your home. That should be a safe space for every child growing up. And I’m sorry your dad didn’t seem to ever stand up to your mom or take your side. You took a lot of flak from her, and your dad was a party to all that, even if it was passive. That doesn’t make it easier.

If it’s any consolation, I think your face is great. I love the way your eyebrows scrunch up and you purse your lips when you’re annoyed. Blunt is good. Although I wouldn’t even say you’re blunt. You’re straightforward. You don’t leave any chance for ambiguity if you want to know something. It’s admirable, and it takes guts. And the clothes you wear are super sexy. Although they can’t compare to my impeccable fashion sense. Perhaps you should try wearing a sweater vest now and then? Put it over one of thoselittle camisoles you wear, or that sheer blouse you had on the other day. Or maybe over nothing at all?

Apologies. I’m getting majorly sidetracked.

Oh fuck. Did she justgiggleat his email? No partner had ever made her giggle. She sounded like Becca, who was super cute and in every way what agigglerwould look like. Her? Not so much.

This man did things to her.

From: Spencer Williams

To: Brett Monroe

Is it even possible for us to have a conversation without it ending up horny?

From: Brett Monroe

To: Spencer Williams

How do I not let my mind wander? You’re so fucking gorgeous and funny. I think about you all the time.

His mind was about to do more than wander. She meant what she said when she teased him before leaving his office earlier that day. Vibrators were played with. Photos were snapped. She definitely got off on the idea of sending said pictures to Brett. He was going to blow in his corduroy pants. Her stomach fluttered as she typed up her last email for the night.

From: Spencer Williams

To: Brett Monroe

Attachments: (2)

Alright, Mr. Monroe. Open up the attachments and have your way with me. You earned it.

Spencer didn’t see Llewellyn for three days after he’d walked in on Brett and her. She received a call in the early evening that a body had been brought in to the funeral home, and she knew Llewellyn got the call, too. A 58-year-old man dead from a heart attack. Unfortunately, in recent years, she’d seen her fair share of heart attack victims. Much too common.

Llewellyn was waiting by the entrance when she arrived, his bike parked against the front of the building. She bit back the urge to remind him to park his bike in the back, where the public couldn’t see it. The last thing she needed to do was set him off after he’d already threatened her. Who knows what mood he was in today?

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