Rocky moved closer and set his hand on Zayn’s shoulder. He massaged. Zayn’s throat swelled. He didn’t want to listen anymore. Zayn had known Rocky too long. The man knew him too well. Rocky wasn’t one to hold back when he had something to say. He was more like family than an employee. God knew his real family never came to visit. “I live here, Zayn. You can’t pretend with me. I know you’re horribly lonely and no one puts you first. This guy isn’t the one. He’s proven time and time again that you don’t matter to him. He’ll make sure you always feel alone.”
“As much as I hate that I’m making that statement look true, I have to go.”
At Spencer’s sudden appearance and statement, Rocky snorted and walked away.
Spencer didn’t bother looking Rocky’s way as he passed. He kept his gaze locked on Zayn.
Zayn looked away and took another swig of whiskey.
“I’m sorry.”
Zayn nodded and set his bottle aside. Without looking Spencer’s way, he opened the sliding cabinet that hid the trash can. He knocked the vases into the can, uncaring as they smashed. He shut the drawer and picked up his liquor. “You always are.” Even Zayn heard the dead note in his voice.
“Jinx’s mom passed away.”
Zayn still didn’t look Spencer’s way. “Please pass along my condolences.” He felt like the worst person on the planet, but he also couldn’t help but wonder if Spencer would drop everything if it was Zayn’s mother. Somehow, Zayn doubted he would.
Spencer didn’t move.
Zayn finally met his stare. “Don’t let me hold you up. I’m sure Jinx is waiting.”
Spencer opened his mouth, as if he had more to say.
Zayn pushed open the hidden panel beside him and slipped inside his bedroom. He wouldn’t keep Spencer from his life anymore. It was obvious Spencer had too much on his plate. If Zayn loved him, and he did, then the kindest thing he could do was lighten Spencer’s load. So Zayn would remove himself from the picture. Even though it meant breaking his own heart, Zayn had to walk away. He was just some guy with too much time and money. Really, he was no one at all.
Eight
The funeral came and went with a feel of surreality. Jinx had opted for cremation and nothing felt good anymore. There was no happiness anywhere Spencer looked. Jinx was asleep in Spencer’s bed because Spencer didn’t know what else to do with him. Spencer spent his nights on the couch, texting Zayn without luck. He had canceled all upcoming shows until further notice, and—oddly—Spencer had zero desire to get back to work. Everything felt empty.
A small part of Spencer wanted to rage about getting dumped for something out of his control. Spencer knew that wasn’t true, though. He had been driving Zayn away for the full three months they had been dating. Spencer couldn’t believe Zayn had lasted that long. Of course, that didn’t make it hurt less. Spencer’s chest hurt all hours of the day, and he didn’t care to do anything but wallow in the pile of shit he created. He had concocted about fifteen grand schemes to win Zayn back. All of them were just as likely to fail as the next. Plus, he wasn’t sure if Zayn deserved to have Spencer as a plague upon his life. Fuck, Spencer missed him, though. He craved the late-night talks and the off-the-charts sex. Spencer longed for the sweet kisses on his neck when they cuddled. The same thought slammed against his brain a million times a day; if only he had made it to that final pottery class, then Zayn wouldn’t be done. That was all it would have taken to save them was for Spencer to have put Zayn first one goddamn time. Now Zayn had no forgiveness left in him for Spencer.
The chime sounded on the security camera. Spencer’s gaze shot to the monitor. Someone headed to the door carrying a huge flower arrangement. Spencer jumped to his feet and rushed to the door before the delivery man knocked and woke up Jinx. Jinx needed the rest.
To his surprise, as he stepped outside, he spotted Rocky carrying the flowers. “Hey,” Spencer said, sounding confused even to his ears.
Rocky didn’t return his greeting. “These are for Jinx. Zayn didn’t know where else to have them delivered, but he sends his condolences.” Rocky passed the huge flower arrangement Spencer’s way and turned away, as if he couldn’t leave fast enough.
Spencer set the flowers on the floor inside the doorway and rushed after him. “Hold up. I know you don’t like me, but could you please pass a message to Zayn for me?”
Rocky barely spared him a glance. “Nope.”
Spencer didn’t give up. “Please? He’s not answering my calls or texts.”
“Take the hint.”
Spencer fought a growl. “I know I fucked up several times, but I love Zayn. If there’s any way I can make things right, I will.”
A loud breath burst from Rocky, as if he was tired as hell. He tilted his chin toward the sky—no doubt seeking help from above—before turning back Spencer’s way. “What do you know about Zayn’s family?”
The question caught Spencer off guard, but he rolled with it. “Zayn says they’re good people.”
A bark of laughter escaped Rocky. “You don’t know Zayn well enough to love him if you believe that’s the least bit true.”
Spencer searched his memories. He couldn’t think of anything Zayn had done or said to make him believe his parents were awful. Spencer knew they were divorced, but Zayn hadn’t said anything bad about them. “Zayn has always spoken highly of them.”
Rocky rolled his eyes. “Zayn speaks highly of everyone. Seriously. Have you ever heard him say a single bad word about anyone? For fuck’s sake, he had me bring flowers over here after everything that’s happened.” Rocky scrubbed at his forehead, as if battling with himself. Finally, he met Spencer’s gaze again. “Look, Zayn is easily the nicest person on the planet. I’m head of
