“It all started when I was maybe fifteen, sixteen—hell, I don’t know. Back then, I was still begging for my parents to stop calling me Dilbert,” he laughs. “My parents are both preachers,” he says, shocking me. My eyes widen and I jerk my head in his direction. “Oh, that got your attention, didn’t it, sweetness? Yeah, I was a black man born in the Deep South, gay as it gets, with two preachers for parents. It probably couldn’t have gotten worse for me. They ignored me the best they could but refused to let…well, Sway out. I had to be Dilbert when anyone was around.” He pauses and I settle into the silence around me.
“The only time I was really happy was at Sunday school, at school, or drama class. The art supplies—oh, girlfriend. You should have seen how much I could make a simple piece of construction paper shine like a queen! I guess, in a way, between art projects and costumes for drama, the glitter became my lifeline to keeping my happiness about me. We all have that thing, you know? That one thing that is calming for us. The one thing that, even when your world feels hollow, can make you feel whole. So, as silly as it is, mine is gold glitter. It’s my happy.”
I wipe a wayward tear from my cheek and smile softly at him. “You’re pretty awesome. You know that?”
He laughs and shakes his head.
“I mean it! Do you know how many times the guys would be in a terrible mood, go out and meet with a client, only to come back and be on the receiving end of your glitter throwing? Every single time, they would come back into the office and seem lighter. It was almost like a mood cleaner. You toss some of that stuff in the air and it’s like the people around you are helpless to not feel a little of your happy.”
He pulls into the hotel and parks, turning in his seat to look at me. One thick and manicured hand comes up and smooths my hair down. I smile at him and enjoy the lightness of the moment.
Until he speaks.
“And pray tell, my sweet little honey pot, what is your happy?” His hand leaves my head and reaches out to pull one of my cold ones into his hold, enveloping it between his own.
“What?” I ask faintly.
“You heard me. What is it that calms you? Makes your hollow whole again?” His voice is soft, his eyes searching without judgment—even though he knows the answer.
“I don’t have one anymore, Sway.” That’s as honest as I can be. I never had Maddox, as much as I had hoped during our time at the cabin. He’s the uncatchable.
“Oh, you sweet child. You have a happy, and as soon as you both let go of the bullshit, you’ll have that happy together.”
“You talk in riddles, you crazy man,” I laugh mirthlessly.
“I talk the truth. I’ve seen a lot of pain in my life, Emmy-Rose. I know another hurting soul when I see it, and that man is hurting. You don’t just forget that instantly. You’ve fought for him, and while I admire your strength, it’s time for you to let him fight to believe in you and that love…that happy.”
“Easier said than done.”
He smiles, his bright, white teeth almost glowing in the dim interior of his car. “Mark my words, he knows what he can have, and one day soon, you’re going to wonder what it’s like to breathe without that tall glass of hotness on your toes. I suspect you won’t wait much longer either.” He leans forward and kisses my forehead.
“I love you. You know that?”
“Of course I do, darlin’. Everyone loves Sway,” he says with a laugh.
I climb out of the car and meet him around the back, grabbing my stuff from the trunk and placing it on the luggage cart. His arms are around me before I can even say thank you and goodbye.
“Chin up, buttercup,” he whispers in my ear, and I feel a rush of calming peace settle over me.
A few hours, one dead cell phone, and room service later, I’m ready to call it a night. I have plans to spend tomorrow figuring out where the hell I go now. Do I stick around, continue this tiring battle of the wills with Maddox? Or do I work on finding a new path—a path without Maddox and the family I love here?
I know I’m stupid to continue to find something worth fighting for in Maddox. He’s made it clear that he doesn’t want me—or better yet, that he does but he can’t, whatever that means. I might never get through to him, but I really feel like if I don’t try at least one more time—with everything I have in me—I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.
He needs someone to believe in him, and I’m guessing he’s never had that. He needs someone who never gives up on him, since I’m guessing that’s all he’s been used to the vast majority of his life.
He needs his ‘happy,’ as Sway calls it.
And I just hope it’s me.
I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow with the determination that I can do this. I just have to toughen up a little, chin up, and YOLO.
“That’s it, buttercup.”
Chapter 17—Maddox
What a fucking mess. I should have known that, the second I got my head out of my ass and allowed myself to believe a little in what I could have, she’d snap. She gives me everything I have been working to get since I started foolishly pushing her away.
The second she finished reaming my ass, that flickering flame of hope burst into an inferno.
She’s right; I hid behind playing some twisted matchmaker. Fixing my friends around me, all the while falling deeper into myself. I used their issues to distract them from me. I used each and every one of them to keep them out.
“Uh, where is your car, brother?” Greg snickers from behind me.
“Looks like he was too busy being a giant ass and it got swiped right from under him,” Asher laughs.
“Hilarious,” I say, not turning from where I’m looking at the space where my Charger should be parked. My lips twitch at the thought of my sweet little Emmy stealing my car.
“That’s what you get for pissing her off,” Axel laughs.
I shrug my shoulder, not willing to get into this with them. It really shouldn’t matter; all but Asher have seen me at my worst, so this is a walk in the park for them.
“Just out of curiosity, is this when we all take the advice you’ve been giving us for years now and give it back? Because hey, I’m not a chick, so I’m not really sure how these little special moments are supposed to go, but I’m willing to wing it.”
