by Teegan Loy
“I really don’t want to have this conversation in here.”
Skye shrugged but agreed with me as we noisily exited the restroom. Philly was waiting at our table with his jacket on and a frown on his face.
“You guys ready? My shift’s over and I’m tired, so if you’re riding back to town with me, let’s go.”
“Thanks, Philly. I owe you one.” Skye moved to pat him on the shoulder but missed and fell into me.
Philly hustled us out and was able to get us to his vehicle. The day had been exhausting, and if anyone had suggested I’d end the evening stumbling drunk with Skye, I’d have punched them in the face.
Skye turned and flashed a warm smile in my direction. My blood boiled, and I touched my back pocket, feeling Mama’s letter crinkle. This evening must be her idea of a joke, or maybe she was just trying to get me to move away from the past.
“He scares the shit out of me, Mama. I need a sign that this is the right thing to do,” I mumbled.
Syke opened his window and a blast of chilly air hit me, so I shoved my hands into the pocket of the hoodie. Something crumpled under my fingers, so I pulled it out. It was the photo of Skye and me in the backyard.
“Mama?” I whispered.
“What ya got there, Ty?” Skye asked.
“It was in your pocket,” I said and handed it to him.
“Thanks,” he whispered and snatched the picture from my hand, tucking it safely into his own pocket.
“Not funny, Mama,” I mumbled.
I leaned against the window and realized how drunk I was as the world spun. I tried to concentrate on my breathing, but I wasn’t having much success.
By the time we pulled into my driveway, my nerves were frayed. After several failed attempts to work the door handle, Skye opened it for me and I fell out, almost knocking him over. I waved at Philly, and Skye thanked him while I tried to stay on my feet. We wove our way to the steps and made it to the front door without any casualties.
“Aw shit,” I grumbled.
“What’s wrong?” Skye asked.
“I have to call Ashley. My fucking keys are in my jacket pocket, which is in your car.”
I dug in my pants, dragging my phone out.
“Put your phone away. Susan kept a spare hidden,” Skye said. He hopped down the stairs and picked up a metal turtle. He flipped it over and gleefully produced a key. He bounded up the stairs and hip checked me out of the way as he slid it into the lock.
“I can’t believe you knew where that was,” I said. “I need another drink.”
I struggled to unlace my boots, but I finally managed to kick them off my feet. Skye walked into the kitchen, and I made it without banging into the wall. He opened a cupboard and took down a couple of glasses. I watched as he moved around the place like it was his home. He even knew where she kept her booze. It reminded me that he’d been here while I was bouncing around the country, partying my ass off. Guilt pressed down on me and I felt terrible.
Skye poured a shot and slid the glass across the table. I downed it before he finished filling his glass. His eyebrows rose, but he poured me another and didn’t say a word.
“I’m surprised your sidekick hasn’t called,” Skye said as he slammed his empty glass on the table.
“Who’s my sidekick?”
“Lindy, you idiot.”
“Can’t believe she’s even speaking to me. Thought she’d want to give me a swift kick in the balls.”
“She’s a good person. She puts up with me, but not before she tore me a new one.”
“You talk to a lot of people.”
“It took a long time, but . . .” He shrugged and took another drink straight from the bottle. We were well past social politeness.
“Did you and Mama talk about me?”
I’d been dying to ask that question ever since I found out about their friendship.
He hesitated. “Sometimes.”
“I can’t believe you talked to Mama. You . . . Fuck, you never talked to me.” I spluttered and contemplated taking another drink, but Skye had the bottle and there seemed to be two of him, so I was outnumbered.
“She told me I suck at communication. She used to yell how I’d avoid the obvious. She taught me how to say things out loud,” Skye said.
“So fucked up,” I mumbled.
“Same thing your mom said.” He snickered.
“You look funny.”
“What?”
“I see three of you. No, four, I think. Are you real?” I poked at his arm but missed and ended up hitting the bottle. Maybe he was a figment of my imagination.
Skye cocked his head and I couldn’t help but fall into his hazel eyes.
“Do you want me to be real?” he asked or someone asked because his voice echoed in my head.
“I’m not sure,” I answered honestly. In truth, I was scared to death of the real Skye and all the emotions that were running rampant through my body. “Why are you here?”
“You’re really drunk and I wanted to make sure you made it home,” he said.
“Yeah, yeah. But why are you here? In my fucking house. You made friends with my mom. You talk to Lindy and Ashley and Gavin. Why are you friends with my people? You made your choice and it wasn’t me, but you’re still here.”
I stood with the aid of the table and glared, moving closer to him so I loomed above him. The old anger and hurt flared. Mama would be so disappointed, but the madness was normal and this, sitting in my kitchen and drinking with Skye, didn’t make sense.
“I chose wrong,” he said firmly and stood, mirroring my posture, bumping against my chest.
“How could you do that to me?” I shouted and shoved him out of my space. “I stupidly thought we really had something. When we left the party and I let you fuck me in the car, you could’ve told me then. I swear to fucking god you enjoyed mocking the feelings I had for you. I never meant to say it out loud, and the minute it left my mouth, I knew it was the biggest mistake I’d ever made. You fucking rubbed everything in my face, and I couldn’t do anything about it, because I swore to you I’d keep our relationship quiet. I should’ve outed you when you kissed Brooke and smirked at me. I should’ve wiped that stupid grin off your face and told everyone you were fucking me. But I let you break me. I didn’t have the strength to stand up for myself, and I hate you for that. I hate that I let you get under my skin so deep that I lost myself.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice breaking.
“You don’t get to say that. I want to blame you for the last five years, but I can’t because it was my fucking choice to run away and leave everyone who cared for me. I made things easy for you. I wasn’t here so you didn’t have to face me. I think that was one of the reasons I left. I didn’t want you to see that you ruined me,” I shouted.
Skye didn’t move or say anything for a few seconds. “I’m sorry, but I haven’t exactly been living the greatest life for the last five years. I made the wrong fucking choice, and I paid for it. Hell, I’m still paying for it. And yes, it was easier when you were gone. I could imagine a happy you, that the choice I made only affected me and had nothing to do with the life you were leading. I wanted to be the only one destroyed by my choice. I wanted you to think it was good I pushed you away. You deserved better than what I was giving you.”
I didn’t want to hear any more of his shit. I wanted his blood.
“Fucking asshole,” I shouted and launched myself at him.
Five years of bottled rage exploded to the surface as we slammed into the wall, sending two pictures crashing to the floor. My fist connected with his jaw and the bottle of booze he was holding shattered.
He pushed me back and I staggered, losing my balance and falling over a chair. I scrambled back to my feet and tried to throw another punch but slipped on the wet floor.
I windmilled my arms, trying to regain my balance, but I ended up grabbing a fistful of his shirt. He stumbled and bumped his head into my cheek as we tumbled to the fl
oor.
He landed on top of me and groaned. The familiar weight of his body settled against mine, bringing memories surging into my head. The logical part of my brain was too soaked in alcohol to matter. All I felt was a strong body on top of me.
I released my hold on his shirt, allowing him to slowly untangle from me. Blood dripped from his mouth, and without thinking, I swept a finger across his lips. Skye froze and his eyes widened. Time slowed, and the only noise was our ragged breathing.
“This,” Skye growled, “is what I should have done.” He smashed his mouth into mine. I tasted blood, sweat, and five years of hate and anger as our teeth clacked together, lips bruising and tongues lashing.
I slid my fingers into his hair, and he moaned when I yanked, pulling him away from my mouth so I could sink my teeth into his neck and mark him. He’d never let me do that before, not somewhere visible. But now he didn’t object. Instead, he ground against my thigh. I ached for release.
He kissed me again, shoving his tongue into my mouth. It was wet and messy and perfect. We rolled around on the floor, fighting for dominance, until I ended on top of him. Glass from the broken bottle had dug into my arm, but I didn’t give a shit. I grabbed his shirt and tore it open. Buttons went flying, mixing with the liquor, blood, and glass strewn on the floor.
I paused for a second, a fleeting thought of right and wrong floating through my head. I shoved it away and touched his chest. Skye had no plans of stopping either as I felt him pop the button on my pants and shove his hand into my boxers.
“Fuck, yes,” I said when he wrapped his fingers around my dick.
Skye grunted and raised his hips, reminding me he was hard. I grabbed his wrist and stopped him before I came in his hand. He opened his eyes, questioning my motives, but I leaned down and kissed him, biting his lip as I moved to lower his pants.
His cock was hot and leaking and I couldn’t resist sweeping my finger through his slit.
“Fuck yes, Tyler,” he whimpered.
I pushed his pants further down his thighs so I could settle myself between his legs and slide our dicks together. The feel of his cock touching mine made my eyes cross, and he chanted my name. Skye stopped breathing and arched into my touch, making keening noises as I continued sliding my hand.
It didn’t take long before he let out a long breath and his body tensed. He came undone and filled my hand, covering my dick with come. A couple more slick strokes and I joined him, collapsing on his chest.
Skye grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled me up so he could kiss me.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered against my mouth. “I did love you, I just didn’t know how to tell you.”
His words destroyed me, and I went limp. He wrapped his arms around me, pressing his cheek against mine. Tears mingled with blood. Skye Olsen was crying. It wasn’t an easy thought to process. I shuddered, and a sob that had been building for five years came out, and finally, I felt the weight of the world lifting off my shoulders.
Even though the floor was uncomfortable, neither of us moved. We managed to get our junk tucked away, but other than that, we stayed on the floor, tangled around each other. I was scared to release him for fear that he would disappear and the moment would end. I wasn’t ready to let go yet, and thankfully, neither was he.
Mercifully, we both passed out.
Chapter Twenty-One
Through the haze of stiffness and warmth, I heard someone calling my name.
“Tyler?”
“Oh, god. Am I dead?”
A loud groan vibrated through my head and I realized I was sprawled on top of someone.
“Sweet mercy!” Lindy shouted.
“Shoot me,” I murmured. I managed to open my eyes and looked straight into bleary, hazel eyes.
“Shit,” Skye and I said at the same time.
“What the hell happened in here?” Lindy asked as she tiptoed around the broken glass. She dragged an overturned chair and placed it upright. The noise made Skye whimper.
“You guys look like hell, but I suppose I should be thankful you didn’t kill each other.”
“Shhhh,” Skye hissed.
My entire body protested and my head felt as heavy as a bowling ball as I struggled to sit. I managed to crawl to a chair but decided it was too much effort to get my butt into the seat. I collapsed on the floor, grunting when I felt more glass dig into my shoulder.
Lindy muttered something about stupid fuck heads. She dropped a damp washrag on my face and ordered me to clean up the blood and stench.
“Fucking hell, woman,” Skye yelped.
“Sit still,” Lindy ordered. “You have glass in your arm.”
I snickered and she glared at me. “You’re next.”
I settled the rag on my face and tried to remember what happened last night. We must’ve fought, but a lot of the details were hazy. I peeked out from under the rag and stared at Skye’s bare chest. A huge bite mark on his neck shone brightly.
Lindy grumbled and Skye winced again when she dug another chunk of glass from his shoulder. Blood trickled down his back and I couldn’t help but watch the path it took, sliding down to the little dip right above the waistband of his pants before Lindy wiped it with a towel. I started sweating.
“Okay. I think I’ve got it all. Go take a shower,” Lindy commanded. Skye whined as he struggled to get to his feet but paused in the doorway, unsure.
“There’re some clothes in my bag in my room. Help yourself.”
Lindy knelt beside me and started to speak, but I stopped her. “Don’t ask and don’t lecture.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I wasn’t going to ask. I need to get the glass out of your arm.”
She wasn’t gentle, and I had to bite my tongue so I wouldn’t unleash a barrage of swear words.
“I wonder how Skye got that giant hickey on his neck?”
“I have no idea,” I said.
“This place smells like a bar, and you stink like stale booze and sex.”
“We may have been wasted last night and things were said and obviously the past was brought up and I don’t remember all of it, so I need to speak with Skye before I can tell you anything.”
“Right,” she said, chuckling. “I’m really not sure what you said, but I’m out of here. I’ll call Ashley and tell her you’re okay, but you need to clean up this mess.”
“Thanks,” I said quietly.
She gave me a quick one-armed hug and bolted out the front door.
I sighed and thought about taking another shot of alcohol, but my head ached. I settled on a glass of water. I splashed half of it on my face and leaned against the sink for a few minutes, gathering the courage to go down to my room.
The shower was still running, so I collapsed on my bed and rolled to my side. I caught sight of his pants draped over my chair. The picture peeked out of his pocket.
I jumped when the bathroom door opened and Skye walked out with a towel wrapped around his hips. Water droplets from his hair slid down his chest, abs, and arms. I was mesmerized.
“Sorry,” he muttered, turning a deep shade of red. “I thought you were still upstairs.”
I forced myself not to giggle because apparently, I’d turned into a teenager again. I couldn’t believe he was embarrassed being in a towel around me.
“Tyler,” he whispered.
I didn’t find our situation funny anymore. Last night we were wasted and I didn’t know if it meant anything to either of us. I was too scared to ask.
Skye exhaled. “I never thought I’d say your name again. I never thought I’d be in this room.”
“You’ve been in this house since . . . You knew where the glasses were and where Mama kept the booze.”
“I never came down here.”
“Why?”
“I couldn’t.”
When he looked at me, his eyes were swimming in unshed tears. The towel dropped from his hips and he was naked, exposed in more ways than one.
“She told me not
to settle anymore. She told me you’re worth the fight; that I was worth it. I don’t know if I believe her, but I still feel something for you. I never stopped. For five years I tried to get you out of my head, but the thought of you haunted me.”
He moved to the edge of the bed and leaned down to capture my lips. His kiss was soft and sweet, almost chaste. It was his way of asking for permission to continue. He was giving me the choice to reject him or let him into my life again.
“Let me love you,” Skye whispered.
His statement hung in front of me and stole all the air from my lungs. I’d waited so long to hear the words come out of his mouth, and now all I could think of was the one thing he’d said to me over and over five years ago.
“When the night comes,” I whispered.
Skye’s breathing hitched. “It’s not night now.”
I exhaled, leaning into his shoulder.
“I really need to shower.”
“You do smell kind of funky,” he said, chuckling.
He patted my shoulder and the simple gesture of a reassuring touch brought me back to an entry I had read in his journal from only six months ago.
It’s been a long day. A day that started off pretty fucking shitty.
Susan asked me to go to the doctor with her this morning and god, I wanted to tell her no. I could see the treatments weren’t helping anymore and I didn’t want to be there when some asshole told her the news. She knew she wasn’t getting better, but I still didn’t want to be there when the words were actually spoken. Somehow hearing the news always made it so final. Hearing anything out loud made everything more real.
I know it was hard for Susan to ask me, but she said I could handle it. Ashley would fall apart and Gavin was already stretched thin, trying to keep Ashley together. How could I deny her? I owed her everything. She was my friend, and I would stand by her through thick and thin, because that’s what friends do. I had failed her son, but I’d be damned if I was going to fail her. I would not walk away no matter how bad things were.
So I agreed and picked her up to take her to face her not-so-great destiny. As we were driving over to the hospital, a wave of anger crashed over me and she called me on it. I couldn’t hide anything from her anymore. Sometimes I think she could read my mind. She sure as hell could read my moods. After a bit of prodding on her part, I told her it should be him and not me who was here. Without missing a beat, she scolded me and told me in no uncertain terms that even though she missed her son, she was glad I was with her.