Page 5 of The Boyfriend Boycott
“Yeah, we had a bit of an … incident,” Grady explains, tossing me a playful wink, an acknowledgement that we now share a secret, an inside joke. Something that’s just ours.
“Well, I see you’ve beat me to the re-introduction. Grady, you remember Spencer, don’t you?” Ally says, gesturing between us before picking up the tray of sauces I was supposed to take out ages ago. Grady’s eyes are on me once again, and I feel hot, feverish.
“Of course, I remember Spencer,” he admits. “She’s not easy to forget.”
I’ve been covertly watchingGrady from across the fire pit for the last hour. We didn’t interact much during the rest of the barbecue—not during dinner or while playing lawn games—but that doesn’t mean that I haven’t caught Grady stealing glances. I’ve stolen a few of my own and, on occasion, our eyes have lingered long enough to make my neck flush.
Now, we’re all seated on Adirondack chairs around the fire, and I’m having difficulty focusing again. I’m too busy watching the way the flames are casting shadows that accentuate the strong line of Grady’s jaw. My thoughts are currently 80 percent on Grady’s face in the dim light of the licking flames, and 20 percent on that line he used earlier.She’s not easy to forget.Has he thought of me since the night I spent at his place? Or was it more like an “oh yeah, I remember her” as if seeing me again jogged a memory that he had all but forgotten?
As much as I hate to admit it, I’ve thought about that night an embarrassing amount. I’ve never been able to pinpoint why. It wasn’t a night of crazy, wild sex. We didn’t even touch each other. But that’s what makes it stand out in my mind. Most guys would have jumped at the chance to hop into bed with me. That’s all men want from me anyway, which normally suits me fine. Grady was different. He was respectful, reserved. It made me want him even more.
But that ship has sailed now. I’m closed for business, where relationships are concerned, until I can get back on my own two feet.
I realize now that zero percent of my attention is on Ally, who has been chattering away next to me about paint colours for the nursery. She says something about wanting to pick a powerful colour. Whatever that is.
Most of the group has retired for the night, leaving only Grady and Mason in conversation across from us. It’s getting late now, and a chill settles on my back, making me wish I had brought a sweater to throw on over my camisole.
I snap out of my trance watching the crackling fire, as Ally says my name a second, maybe a third, time.
“Spence, are you okay tonight?” Ally has shifted in her chair so she’s facing me. “You’ve been so distracted.”
“Yeah, sorry. I don’t know where my head is at. I’m just tired I think,” I lie. “All the travel the last few months, and sleeping in the van has kind of done me in. I’m okay, I promise.” In truth, this solo camping trip has been the most relaxed and rested I’ve ever been. It’s just a shame that not all of my contracts are like this. Normally, I’d be hustling my ass off for very little pay beyond my travel expenses.
Ally squints her eyes, skeptical of my answer. I’m the energizer bunny of our friendship, down for anything—I never stop. So, my answer warrants some skepticism.
“Will you be able to come back for a visit once the baby is born?” My eyes snap back to hers, and I collect myself long enough to formulate a response.
“I will do everything in my power to make that happen, Ally. Really, I will,” I say, twirling a stray lock of red hair that’s fallen from my haphazard bun. Ally peers back at me from under raised eyebrows as she rubs her growing belly protectively.
She has a hard time believing that I can make any kind of concrete plans this far in advance, and I don’t fault her for that. But with the baby due a whole two months from now, and my entire livelihood in the balance with my latest contract coming to an end, I don’t even have an inkling as to where I’ll be when my best friend’s daughter is born. That thought is what sends a pang of guilt right through my gut.
It’s not that I haven’t enjoyed travelling around the world for my job; if you had asked little Spencer what she dreamt of doing when she grew up, it would be exactly this. To see as many different countries as possible, live by my own set of rules, never get tied down, only worry about me and my own needs. Granted, I would have been happy to do anything that got me the fuck out of Vancouver and out from under the crumbled ruins of my home life.
“Once I can find a more stable job, I’ll have a better answer for you.”
“Any updates on that front?”
I let out the breath I’d been holding in through pursed lips. My agent, Sasha, has worked her magic with every contract I’ve landed, and now that those opportunities are dwindling, she agreed to do me a solid and send my resume to a few of her connections in the industry. Neither of us predicted that I would be a less-than-ideal candidate. So, my job situation already has me on edge, and Ally’s questions aren’t helping. Not to mention the fact that Grady is still within my line of sight.
“Nothing exciting.” I shrug, taking a sip of my wine to keep myself from glancing over in Grady’s direction. “Sasha has been sugarcoating it a bit, but I know I’ve been passed up for some of the marketing positions she’s sent my resume to because I don’t have a degree.”
My free-spirited, go-against-the-grain attitude has always been one of my best qualities and has gotten me all the contracts I’ve landed as a travel influencer, including this last one. Now though, my reckless, teenage decision to skip out on university is biting me in the ass since I need a job with an actual title and a salary I don’t have to hustle for.
Ally nods slowly, as if trying to hold back an, “I told you so.”But she doesn’t say it; she’s a better friend than that, even if she doesn’t agree with my life choices.
“How long will you be in Heartwood?” It’s a valid question, and one I don’t have a clear answer to.
“Not sure. My contract with WanderLuxe is up in two weeks,” I explain. I’m nearing the end of a three-month contract with the camper van company, where I’ve been using my social media page to promote the whimsical appeal of van life by driving it across Canada, stopping in all the most picturesque small towns. Heartwood was an intentional stop, the last one before I make the last leg of the journey down to the coast. “Then I have to give the van back. I’ll need to figure something out before then.”
“Maybe you can just stay until the baby comes. It’ll only be a couple of months until she’s here.”
“A couple of months is a long time to go without a paycheck,” I remind her. I’m on a tight enough timeline to find a decent job as it is. I’ve sublet my apartment in Vancouver until next month, and I need to be able to pay my own rent if I ever want to move back in.
“Right, well I’m sure you’ll figure something out, Spence. You always do. We’ll be here whenever you want to visit.” Ally givesme a soft smile and places her hand on my arm. Her comforting touch is something I have never taken for granted. She is, and has always been, the most constant presence in my life. Even when things at home were falling apart, she never faltered. She just accepted me into her family and into her heart with open arms.
We sit around the campfire for a while longer, watching the flames consume the logs until the bark is nothing but glowing embers, and the chill of night is creeping over me from behind.
“I’m gonna need to head home, Ally,” I say, implying that either she or Mason needs to give me a ride. It’s not easy lugging all your belongings around in a van, and it’s much less convenient to take it out once you’ve set up camp, so I’ve been relying on Ally for rides since I arrived.
