Page 99 of The Geography of Happiness

The strip of light leaking through the partially closed door suddenly widened and Amy, Hannah’s nurse, crept in on silent shoes to change Hannah’s intravenous fluids and check her recordings. At her touch, the infernal beeping stopped and I nodded my gratitude. Amy smiled and disappeared back into the hall just as silently as she’d come.

I yawned and circled my head to unkink my neck, then pushed out of the chair and stretched the rest of me before walking to the window to stare at the lights of Auckland glittering in the darkness like a Christmas tree. I sighed and rested my palms on the cold glass, watching a stream of red taillights snake along the motorway toward the harbour bridge. As I watched, the door behind me opened once again, lighting up the room.

“Did you forget something?” I turned, expecting to see Amy, but found myself pulled into a tight hug instead.

“Yes,” an achingly familiar voice whispered against my hair and my knees almost gave way.

Spencer. Oh god. Spencer was here.

“You.” Spencer leaned back to look at me. “I forgot you. But that’s one mistake I intend to correct.”

“But—” My brain told my heart it wasn’t possible, but when Spencer pulled me tight against his chest, I caught a whiff of antiseptic, lanolin, and that woodsy cologne, and I knew my brain could go to hell. “How...? You’re supposed to be in Adelaide.” My arms slid around his waist and I melted against the heat of his body as we rocked in place.

“I belong here with you, not in Adelaide. But we can talk about that later.” He kissed my hair and anywhere else he could reach before finally finding my mouth. And when his tongue slipped between my lips and his taste exploded over my tongue, I almost wept.

We kissed hungrily, like our lives depended on it, and somewhere inside me a damn broke. A rush of emotion coursing through my body as I crushed myself against him, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. His hands slid up and down my back, then landed on my hips to pull me up on my toes so he could delve deeper into my mouth, his tongue igniting the fire I’d been craving for over a month.

When we finally pulled apart, Spencer glanced to where Hannah lay sleeping and cursed softly. “Shit, I’m sorry. I got a bit carried away.”

I turned his face back to mine and kissed him hard. “Don’t be sorry. She’s been out for hours.” I hesitated, then figured what the hell. “She also knows about me... about us. So, we’re good.”

Spencer studied me in the dim light. “What exactly does she know, and how is that for you?”

Smart man.I glanced at Hannah and sighed. “She knows that I’m bi, or whatever, and that you and I are maybe more than just friends, or that we’d like to be. I’m okay with it. I should’ve talked to her a long time ago. She almost gave us away to Judah.”

Spencer’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“It’s okay. I fixed it. But she’s a smart kid.” I pulled Spencer into the corner of the room and lowered my voice. “She saw us hugging in Oakwood Clinic. Then there was all the calling back and forth. It wasn’t hard for her to guess something was up. I told her it was complicated.”

Spencer slid an arm around my waist. “Ain’t that the truth. So, how’s she doing?”

“Better,” I answered, running my hands under his shirt to find his skin and smiling when he shivered. “She was in a lot of pain at first. It nearly did my head in.”

Spencer pulled a worried expression, those gorgeous brown eyes, coal-black in the semi-darkness. “How bad?”

“Bad.” I grimaced at the memory of her crying. “They eventually got it under control when the nurse called the anaesthetist back to re-chart her analgesia.”

Spencer crept to the side of Hannah’s bed and looked down at her, his brow creased in worry. He brushed a messy tangle of hair from her face and sighed. “She looks so damn helpless. I don’t know how you can bear it.”

I joined him, slipping an arm through his. “What choice is there? Every parent signs up for this.”

“No. Not every parent.” He cupped my face in his hands, his gaze so gentle on mine. “Don’t ever assume that the man, theDadyou are, isn’t special. I’m in awe and so bloody proud of you. You’re the best kind of father. The kind that I would’ve given anything to have.”

I closed my eyes and let his words sink in, because what the hell did you say to something like that? My heart achedfor Spencer’s lost childhood, but it had taught him something I struggled to see in myself. And when I opened my eyes, he was watching me. “I guess I haven’t done too shabbily then, right?”

He chuckled and pulled me against him. “Not too shabbily at all. Hannah is a lucky girl. And I want to hear everything, but right now—” He led me away from the bed and back to the darkest corner of the room. “—I really, really need to kiss you.”

I looked over my shoulder, but Hannah was still asleep with her back to us, the click of the machinery and the noise from the hall loud enough to cover any small indiscretions on our part.

“We need to be quiet.”

“As a mouse.” Spencer brushed his lips over mine, then slid his tongue inside, teasing and tasting and drawing out every scrap of pleasure he could as we reconnected after a month apart.

He took his time, his fingers in my hair, a soft hum of appreciation rumbling up his throat. And just like that I was back in his Oakwood home, his hands on my body, the shock of delight on my lips, the craving for more. The same craving I’d pretended hadn’t kept me awake for weeks. Back in his arms was like coming home. Spencer Thompsonfelt like home.

And when the hell had that happened?

As fast as it started, it was over, and we pulled apart, panting, clinging to each other in a much softer embrace, his lips at my ear, whispering my name, how much he’d missed me, and that he was sorry he hadn’t answered my calls.

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