by M. E. Carter
“Aggi, baby, come on. It’s not a big deal.”
Hand in my face, she turns her attention to the woman at the desk. “I would like to stay in coach, please.”
The clerk nods in response and glances to me for confirmation. What am I supposed to do? Go all alpha male and override what Aggi has asked? No. That’s not me and if I know anything about my girl, it’s that she doesn’t like that alpha shit anyway. Well, except in bed, but even that may be pushing it a little.
Satisfied with winning this round, Aggi takes her ticket from the very quiet attendant and spins on her heel, making her way toward security. Grabbing my new upgraded ticket I walk quickly to catch up to Aggi, frustrated because in the confusion I never bothered to make sure I was being placed in coach as well. It doesn’t go unnoticed that instead of her normal Aggi travelwear of leggings and a flowy top and next to no makeup with her glasses on, today she’s made up as Adeline Snow. Full makeup. Coifed hair. Leather pants and heels to match.
Full armor.
Stepping in line, I reach for her hand, but she responds by gripping the strap of her crossbody, not allowing me any contact. She’s punishing me for something I didn’t do. For something I don’t even care about. This is not okay with me, and I’m starting to get pissed.
When we finally make it through security and walk toward our gate, I glance at my phone and see I have a few more text messages from my sister and Freddy. Kate claims to have had a gag reflex over her favorite sex scenes when she realized she was basically reading about me in the bedroom but got over it pretty quick. Now she is over the moon knowing I’ve been connected to her favorite books and insists this is more proof that Aggi, or Adi as she knows her, is meant to be her new best friend and the mother of my future children. How she reaches these conclusions is beyond me, hence the ignoring of her messages.
Freddy, on the other hand, wants to build off this development and is trying to convince me to write a book. A fucking book about what, I have no idea. He seemed surprised when I told him unequivocally no.
Taking the seat next to her, I set my backpack down and turn to Aggi. She shifts, and I think for a minute she’s going to leave but when she doesn’t I have a glimmer of hope we’ll get past this.
“Talk to me.”
“What is there to say? Thanks? Thanks for letting me think our upgrades were a perk of this tour and how foolish I looked for weeks commenting on that? Or surprise! You’re my muse. It’s not humiliating at all for you to know, for the entire world to know that you were the inspiration for some of my bestselling books. Books I can’t seem to write anymore. Since I actually met you I haven’t written a word because writing you after actually knowing you, after we . . . well, you know, I can’t write. I’m broken.” Her last words are whispered as she sniffles, and I know she’s going to cry.
Instinctively, I pull her to me, nestling her head into my chest, rubbing my hand down her back as I place a kiss to the top of her head. Her sniffles go on for a few minutes but when she lifts her hand to wipe away the fallen tears, I let her pull away from me.
“Sorry. Crap, I think you may need to change your shirt.” Looking down to where she’s pointing, I see a wet spot on my shirt where she was resting her head and shrug.
“Feel better?” She nods once so I continue. “Why are you dressed like Adeline Snow?”
“What?”
“You aren’t dressed like you. This is Adeline. Why?”
She diverts her gaze, and I know it’s one more wall that has just gone up. “I have to, Spencer. Everyone knows what a fraud I am. You have no idea how embarrassing this is.”
“You’ve lost me, sweetheart. You are a lot of things, but a fraud isn’t one of them. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. I’m sorry about the upgrades. I wanted us to have time together, and I knew you’d argue about me paying so I didn’t offer up the facts when you assumed it was part of the tour.”
Grabbing her hand, I link our fingers and lift her hand to my lips, kissing it twice. “Aggi, I like you, and I’m pretty sure you like me back. Nothing has changed for me except my admiration for your career and professionalism. You handled last night like a champ and I was, I am, so proud of you.”
Her eyes snap up to mine and for a second I think I may have gotten through to her. “You were, are?”
“Yeah, baby. I just want to move on from this. Will you let this go and let us keep being us? When we’re together, it’s just Aggi and Spencer. Adeline Snow is for the masses but you’re just for me. Can we do that?”
She bites her lip and I realize I’m not making as much headway as I thought. “I don’t know Spencer. I’m really raw right now. I need time. I know you don’t get it. And I’m trying to figure out how to explain it but”—she bangs her fist gently to her forehead, eyes shut tightly—“this damn writer’s block won’t let me put the words together to explain. My emotions are all over the place, and I need to process it all.”
Her frustration with herself is palpable and my immediate thought is to not make it worse. “I have no problem giving you time to sort it all out. I understand.” She breathes a sigh of relief so I try one last time. “But can I at least ask about putting you in the seat next to me in first class?”
“I think I’d prefer to do this short flight in the cheap seats if you don’t mind.”
My heart sinks. “You need space too.”
Nodding, she offers me the slightest of smiles. It looks sad almost and while I want to keep holding on to hope, it’s quickly fading away. Aggi slips her hand from mine and pulls out her laptop, tapping the keys a few times before staring at the screen, her bottom lip tugged between her teeth.
Tension radiates off her and I need to lighten the mood. “I think we have a full day with zero commitments for the tour when we get to LA; do you have plans?”
“Writing. I’m so far behind on my deadline.”
“Do you think you can block out a little time for me?”
Her teeth tug on her bottom lip as she decides if it’s worth it or not. Finally, she nods. “Of course.”
Breathing an audible sigh of relief I respond with, “Good. I have a surprise for you. I think it may help this block you’ve stumbled behind.”
“Well, it can’t hurt at this point,” she grumbles as she pulls her headphones from her bag and slowly places them on her ears as she begins tapping on the keys of her laptop before we begin boarding.
Separately.
Chapter 23
Aggi
Final Stop: Los Angeles
Home of the Summer X Games, circa 2003 – 2013
As much as I missed sitting next to him on that plane, I needed some distance from Spencer. When I’m near him, I can’t breathe. That’s always been true, but especially now that my emotions are so out of control.
I tried to spend the flight writing, which I’m sure thrilled my rowmates to no end. Especially since I was stuck in the middle due to our seat assignment snafu at check-in. After dropping my bag on the foot of the man to the left of me and accidentally elbowing the woman on the right, I finally got my laptop open and myself situated.
And then I stared at a blank screen for the next hour.
I should have known better than to try. I’m too off kilter.
I know Spencer feels it. He’s become quite astute when it comes to my emotions. And therein lies part of the problem. He’s figuring out too much too fast, and I already know how this ends. He will get tired of my oddities and decide I’m too much effort, leaving me heartbroken and possibly unable to recover.
I know my thoughts sound self-depreciating but they’re really not. One of the curses of being a people watcher is I can spot patterns of behavior a mile away. I know Spencer likes me, but fear has thrown me back to all my original concerns. I’m no longer convinced he likes me enough. It’s one thing to enjoy my quirky personality. It’s a completely different thing to have your deepest darkest fantasies and desires spread open before him like, well like all of
my books.
That’s the part about my writing that no one except Greer has ever known. Every single one of the words I put down on paper for the world to read are actual emotions I feel. Real fantasies I have. They are the truest part of my soul. Eventually I would have trusted Spencer with that information. But I needed to feel confident he would take that information and treat it with kid gloves. Now I’m not sure if he’s humoring me with all his sweet words, or if he understands the gravity of this personal information at all.
Either it is hurtful or humiliating and a huge blow to my already wishy-washy ego.
So I appreciate the silence he’s afforded me on our drive out of Los Angeles. I still don’t know where we’re headed, but watching the landscape as we get there makes it worth it no matter what.
California has always intrigued me. As a Midwesterner, born and raised, the West Coast has always seemed magical and exciting. The few times I’ve visited have not been disappointing. Even now, seeing mountains in the background of a vibrant metropolis makes my heart race.
Inspired, however, I am not.
Pulling into a more residential area, my curiosity finally gets the best of me.
“Where are we?”
Turning on the blinker, he looks both ways before pulling onto a side street. “We’re almost there.”
A few minutes later we pull into a small parking lot and I gasp.
The Skateboarding Hall of Fame. He brought me to the freaking mecca of skateboarding.
“Wow.” That’s all the only coherent word that comes out of my mouth as I look up at the building. All of my favorites are here as inductees: Gregg Weaver and Eric Dressen and Tony Hawk. For the first time in a couple days, my excitement level is rising.
Pulling the car into the space, Spencer parks and turns to face me. “Aggi, I’ve spent the last three weeks in your world getting to know who you are. Not just the world-famous author, but the person. I want you to know me too.”
His words hit me harder than I realized they would. I thought I did know him. Having spent time in his home, the one he designed, showed me so much of who he is. But, to hear this, to hear him say he wants to show me more—I’m not sure if I’m flattered or feel stupid for letting things get as far as they have when maybe I didn’t know him very well at all.
But I also know after tonight’s signing, we’re heading our separate ways and going home. Call me selfish or stupid, but I want this time with him as Aggi and Spencer. Who knows if I’ll ever have this opportunity or will ever see him again. Despite my reservations, I respond by unclicking my seatbelt and opening the car door.
He follows suit and in just a few minutes we’re inside what I can confidently call my version of Disneyland.
“Holy shit, Spencer. Look at all those boards!” I exclaim, blown away by the sheer beauty of every design and style a skater could imagine. They’re everywhere. Hanging from a chain link fence from bottom to top. Attached to the ceiling. There are hundreds of them. Maybe thousands.
Immediately, I pull out my camera and begin clicking. Zooming in and back out. Turning every which way to try and capture the beauty of the colors and shapes. It’s stunning.
As we wander around the museum, Spencer points out a few interesting pieces like a 1970 Powell Honeycomb Quicksilver prototype. Supposedly there are only two of these in the world and here I am, up close and personal with one of them.
Un. Real.
Tearing my eyes away from the rarity, I look behind me and freeze. Right across the aisle is a picture of the woman who introduced me to the love of skateboarding. Kim Cespedes was one of the first women in the 70s to focus on bowls and pipes and tricks. Most women during that era performed freestyle and choreographed gymnastics routines on the board. Not Kim. She not only held her own with the men, she smoked them, even doing backside airs in pools only a year after they were unveiled by “the boys.”
And if I take a few steps and reach out, I can touch her board.
“Amazing, right?”
I look up at Spencer, who is smiling down at me, obviously delighted I’m enjoying this so much.
“Spencer, I just . . . this is . . . I can’t even explain how I’m feeling.”
“Well, lookie there,” he jokes. “The writer has lost her words.”
I grimace, and he quickly realizes what he just said.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. I’ll wait until you’re unblocked to joke about you being rendered speechless again.”
Now I feel bad. “No, don’t be sorry. I’m just—I’m hypersensitive right now. Don’t worry about it.”
He clears his throat and shoves his hands in his pockets. I’ve clearly made the situation uncomfortable again, which makes me want to kick myself. He doesn’t let the silence linger for long. “Anyway, not many people know this, in fact I don’t think anyone does. But my dream, I guess fantasy would be a better explanation, is to have my picture and board hanging right in this area.”
“You want to be an inductee?”
He shrugs. “Don’t we all? I can’t tell you how many times I’ve made up scenarios in my head about what I would say in my speech and what Maxim cover model would accompany me.” I quirk an eyebrow at him, making him chuckle. “Don’t look at me like that. I was a kid and the Maxim magazine was my dad’s. Every pubescent kid on the tour wanted to claim Jennifer Love Hewitt as his own. I grew out of that. Now I just think about the speech.”
“I have no doubt your picture and board will be hanging in here someday. You’ve won how many gold medals already?”
“But that’s not why this is my dream. I want to leave a lasting impression in this sport because of the work I do with kids. Because of the work I do in communities around the country. I don’t want to be known as the guy who could ride a skateboard really well. I want to be known as the guy who made a difference in the world.”
“That’s really important to you, isn’t it?”
He shrugs. “I remember what it was like to not have a dad around. It wasn’t his fault. Divorce just is what it is, and California is where my mother’s family was. She wouldn’t have made it if it weren’t for their support. I get that. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt that he wasn’t there.”
I listen intently, knowing he is sharing a deep part of his soul with me.
“Skateboarding saved me. Pushing my body to gain the height I need to do a one eighty or whatever, it was an outlet for my anger. There were men there who cheered me on and told me I was special. It was so much more important than I ever let on and I know there are so many other kids out there who need it too. So no. I don’t want to be considered a Hall of Famer yet. I have too much of a difference to make first. And now, with retirement hanging over my head, I’m terrified I won’t leave the kind of mark I want. That my name will fade and with it, opportunities to keep doing the rest.”
There’s not much I can say to validate his concerns, so I blurt out the only thing I can think of. “I believe in you.”
His eyes find mine and he holds my gaze. “I know you do, Aggi. I think you believe in me in a way no one else does. You see all of me,” he says softly.
The words give me pause and I want to trust his feelings. I really do. But my insecurities are still roaring in my head, making it hard to figure out what to do. I’m confused and afraid and still frustrated with this damn block.
When I say nothing, he continues, “You’ve written a piece of me into so many of your stories, I don’t think you realized how accurate you were.” Offering a small smile, I break his stare and pull my camera back up to my face, so I can hide behind my picture taking. Armor back up.
Chapter 24
Spencer
Tonight is the last stop on the promotional tour, and I’ve decided to put a little more effort into my look. Sure, this is California and if there is the spot that would grant me the grace to dress down it’s here. I could easily throw on a T-shirt and shorts and call it a day. But, it may also be the last night I�
�m going to spend with Aggi, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hold some hope for more photo opportunities and a chance to wrap my arms around her. I saw the way she looked at me the last time I put in the extra effort, and I’m not too macho to admit I liked it. A lot. So a pair of dark wash jeans and a white button-up shirt it is. Gone are my Vans and in their place are a pair of dress shoes I had to dig into the back of my closet for.
As I roll the sleeves of my shirt up, I think back to our day. A day I thought would have her telling me she chooses me. Us. I mistakenly thought taking her to the Hall of Fame and showing another piece of my life, of my dreams, she’d realize everything I’ve said is true. I care for her. I like her. Hell, I’m falling for her.
For a few hours, I thought we were putting all the muse business behind us. She laughed and let me lead her around, her hand in mine. Then we headed to one of my favorite taco joints for a late lunch and all the progress we’d made slowly unraveled.
I don’t know what changed between the Hall of Fame and lunch, but she slowly replaced the carefree Aggi with the armor she holds onto so tightly. Gone was the carefree and joking Aggi, replaced with the quiet and professional Adeline Snow.
I didn’t dare tell her about my call with Freddy when she was in the restroom cleaning up the epic salsa spill from her pants. It turns out the muse outing has had quite the buzz on social media. Some fans have even created fan pages referring to us as “Spendeline” whatever that means. Freddy said the publicists are falling over themselves with the positive response and while they aren’t encouraging the rumors that Aggi, I mean Adeline, and I are a couple, they also aren’t putting those same rumors to rest. Something I’ve made sure to let Freddy know he’d better handle. If I thought I was losing Aggi with the outing, having this shit all over the internet is sure to send her running for the hills. Thank God for her antiquated flip phone and inability to check social media hourly.
Grabbing my keys and a couple of bottles of water from the refrigerator, I exit my condo. There are perks to having a place in California. I get to use my own shower, drive my own car, and sleep in my own bed. A bed I hope I can convince Aggi to spend her last night in.