Page 95 of The Geography of Happiness

Terry had shut me out, and I’d flown to Adelaide licking my wounds like the dipshit that I was.

My bag finally made an appearance on the belt and I made it through customs shockingly quickly. I’d almost hit the exit whenmy phone rang in my pocket. My hopeful heart raced at the sound, but it wasn’t Terry. It was Zach.

I answered with a smile I didn’t quite feel. “Spencer Thompson, Airport Efficiency Consultant.”

“What?” Zach’s confusion made me chuckle.

I explained, “I’m in Adelaide, remember? And I’ve been waiting over forty minutes for my bags. Hang on a minute—” I squeezed past a woman scolding her children for not staying close, then pushed through the automatic doors onto the busy concourse and made a hard left heading for the taxi stand.

“Can you hear me now?” I checked.

“Yeah,” Zach huffed. “And Iknowyou’re in Adelaide, Matt enlightened me, surprising as it was since Hannah is having her surgerytomorrowand I thought you’d have postponed so you could be up in Auckland for that. Silly me.” His tone dripped with sarcasm and brought me to a stop for two reasons. One, because that was exactly what Ididwant. And two, how did he know?

“She texted me yesterday and I called her right back,” he answered before I could ask. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Someone bumped into me from behind and I apologised and got out of the way. “Youknowwhat I’m doing, Zach.”

“Don’t sass me,” he snapped.

“Calm down.” Luke’s voice of reason.

“No,” Zach argued. “Someone has to say something. Everyone can see it except for Spencer. None of us here want to lose him andhedoesn’t really want to go. Problem solved.”

“What makes you think I don’t want to go?” I countered sharply. “The job is perfect for me. I love the Mackenzie, but I’m bored with the same old, same old.”

“No. You’re. Not.” Zach said smugly, raising my hackles. “You love it here and you love your work. What youareisworried that this might be all you amount to, and for some reason, the idea terrifies you. You’re looking for the next shiny thing to lose yourself in, like all those men and women you fuck just so you can pretend you’re living some kind of exciting life. But what if you’re looking in the wrong place?”

“Tell him what Gil told you,” Luke piped up in the background. “That when you try to fill the hole inside you with the wrong things, it’s never gonna make you happy.”

“Oh, so now you want to be involved,” Zach snarked to Luke. “What happened toleave the poor man alone?”

“Gil?” I fired up. “What the hell? None of you know shit about me.”

“We’re your friends,” Zach argued. “Not that you make it easy, Mister never-open-up-or-invite-anyone-to-his-home Thompson.”

“That’s not—” I was about to saytruebefore biting my tongue and pivoting. “That doesn’t make me a bad person... just private.”

“Of course,” he agreed. “But it does make it damn hard to move from being a casual friend of yours to a good one.”

I scrunched my eyes shut and breathed through the urge to just hang up because... was I really that bad? “I... well, I didn’t know you’d want that.”

Zach sighed. “Jesus, Spencer, you’re a good man. Of course I’d want more. You kept my secret about being gay for years. And then when I came out, you made it your mission to take me under your wing and educate me in all things alphabet city. You even saved Jules’ life last year. And you come every single time I call you about a dog and don’t even charge me half the time. But you have to let people in, Spence. It can’t be one-sided.”

“I’m sorry.” And I meant it. “It’s a hard habit to break.”

Zach went quiet for a moment. “I know, but all that secret-squirrel stuff hasn’t stopped me learning a lot about you overthe last ten years or so. For starters, I know that look of pure happiness on your face when you’re working in our shed, the one that tells me you’re home. That you’re doing exactly what you should be in life and where you should be doing it. I know it because I feel the same with my dogs.”

I leaned back against the outside wall of the terminal and closed my eyes, listening to his voice, remembering the times I’d watched him train his dogs and seen that look he was describing. And I knew he was right.

“I also know the sound of that dreadful voice of yours when you arrive at the station with your windows down, singing to one of those bad-taste pop groups you seem to love.”

I snorted. “They’re not that bad.”

“They’re horrendous. But I digress. I know you go out of your way with every client to make them feel special, and they love you for it. I know there isn’t a better vet in the entire Mackenzie, and I’m betting you’ll never find a place you love more to call home. But most of all, I know the hurt I saw in your eyes when Terry left that day. I know it because I’ve felt it too.” Zach’s voice grew husky. “Even if it was me doing the walking away that time.”

“Oh, baby,” Luke whispered in the background. “Come here.”

“But above all that”—Zach’s words sounded muffled and I pictured him in Luke’s arms—“I know how much you mean to Hannah, and I’m guessing you feel the same way about her,andTerry, based on what she told me.”

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