Save My Heart (Sticks & Hearts Book 3)

by Rhonda James

  It takes mere seconds for me to cross the room until I’m standing behind her. The reflection in the window reveals her left thumb is between her luscious lips. Our eyes connect in the glass, and I offer her a smile.

  “I’d like to be your friend,” I agree. “I’m looking forward to our time together. I’m happy to see you’re doing something you love. I’d really enjoy seeing some of your photos. You always had a great eye.”

  “Ha! You’re only saying that because you were my favorite subject,” she scoffs before laughing.

  I laugh along with her and try to appear sheepish. “Well, that certainly didn’t hurt. Seriously, Sky, I’m proud of you. You didn’t have an easy life, yet look at you now.”

  She turns, angling her body to face mine, and crosses her arms protectively over her chest. “I didn’t have much choice. Circumstances like that can either destroy you or strengthen you. I chose the latter.” She shrugs.

  My words are equally as quiet as I reach up and finger a lock of her hair. “I think you’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever known.”

  “That’s funny, ‘cause right now, I’m not feeling very strong.”

  Our lips hover mere inches apart, yet I don’t close the distance, even though I want to. God knows I want to. But I’m scared. There, I said it. Skylar Dennison scares me. I’m not talking timid or moderately frightened. I’m talking ‘freaking the fuck out’ and ‘damn near pissing in my pants’ level of scared.

  Scared, but I’m still here. Right now, it will take an act of God to remove me from this spot.

  Her breath is sweet and warm against my skin. Neither of us moves, and for a second I wonder if she wants this as badly as I do. I wonder if she’s thought about this as often as I have.

  The temperature in the room has skyrocketed, but our hesitation speaks volumes. A kiss won’t erase the pain I’ve inflicted on her. I start to back away, but her arms circle my waist for a brief hug. It only lasts a moment, and then she’s gone just as quickly as she came back into my life, but I’m left holding my breath long after she’s left the room.

  A few minutes later, I join her outside, where she’s saying good-bye to everyone. Their comments of “No, stay,” and her response of “Thanks, but I really should be going.” I can’t help feeling responsible. I came on too strong. I don’t know what came over me. Maybe it was the shock of seeing her after all this time or the fear of never having another opportunity.

  “Are you joining us tomorrow? We’ll head out around lunchtime, and we’d love it if you came with us,” Jordan offers.

  “You know, thank you for the invitation, but I think I’ll pass. I can use this time to work on my interview questions and take some shots inside the arena. Besides, you guys all know each other. I’d probably end up feeling out of place.”

  “What the hell are you talking about, Skylar? You and Scott dated for five months, so you already know how weird we are.” Cassie rolls her eyes and laughs.

  Not a word is spoken. You could hear a pin drop. Skylar’s eyes dart to mine, and Cassie appears confused.

  “Wait.” Cassie looks around the group. “Didn’t you guys already know this?” Everyone but Cage shakes their heads.

  “Scott?” Davis narrows suspicious eyes at me. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

  I open my mouth to answer but only end up shaking my head. It’s Skylar who ends up answering his question.

  “He didn’t say anything out of respect for me. It’s true that we dated in high school, but that was a long time ago, and I think we were both trying to keep this professional. Besides, it’s not a big deal. You guys go have a great time, and we can get together when you get back.”

  Davis and Masterson both give me a look that says this isn’t over, but I shrug it off. I know they’ll probably have a hundred questions for me, but right now, all I can think about is the way she came to my defense. Just like she’d always done while we were dating. Back then, Skylar had been fiercely loyal, and it appears that’s another thing about her that hasn’t changed.

  I follow her out to her car and hover by the driver’s side door until she’s safely buckled in.

  “You sure you know the way back to the apartment?” I ask, voice heavy with concern.

  “I’m good. Siri got me here, and I’m pretty sure she can get me back home,” she replies softly.

  I lean in, forearms resting on top of the door. “Just so long as she doesn’t guide you all the way back home to Atlanta.”

  Her eyes fall closed as a smile lifts the corners of her mouth. I’m still staring when her eyes crack open and her smile turns into a full-blown grin. “Not a chance, City Boy. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for the next two weeks.”

  “Speaking of that. You sure you don’t want to join us this weekend? I promise not to make things too weird for you,” I add to try and sway her decision.

  “Positive. Go. Have fun. But when you get back, it’s all business. This story isn’t going to write itself.” She waves before shifting the car into reverse. “Good night, Scott.”

  “Night, Blondie,” I call after her as she’s driving away. I stand on the curb, watching the taillights of the car dim as she drives further away from me.

  One thing’s certain, I’m clearly not over Skylar Dennison. And our near kiss tells me she isn’t over me, either.

  Not by a long shot.

  CHAPTER 7

  SKYLAR

  I dial Samantha’s number and reach in the fridge for a bottle of wine. While propping the phone between my shoulder and ear, I pour a glass before heading into the living room. After the fourth ring, I expect to get her voicemail but smile when my best friend answers instead.

  “What’s shakin’, Sugartits? Ash tells me you’re in Detroit doing a story on your ex. What gives? Dad pissed at you or something?” she greets loudly, southern drawl laced with a touch of sass.

  “Fat chance. I’m his favorite, remember?” I tease and take another sip from my glass.

  “So, have you seen the peckerwood yet?” she asks over the sound of a horn honking in the background.

  “Where are you?” I chuckle.

  “Drinking on my balcony. This apartment is so damn small I’m ‘bout to go batshit crazy. I miss our apartment in Atlanta,” she whines. I hear the clink of ice hitting the side of her glass and wish she were hanging with me in my spacious temporary apartment. “Well, have you?” she prompts.

  I curl up in the corner of the sofa and spin the glass between my two fingers. “Actually, I just left him. We were at a dinner party at his friend’s house.”

  “And…?”

  “And they were really nice. I had a great time. His sister was there, and we got to catch up. She’s dating his best friend, which is strange, because Scott was always overprotective when it came to Cassie.” I empty the contents of my glass and head back to the kitchen for a refill. “He almost kissed me,” I casually throw out there.

  “What?” she screeches into the phone. “Back the fuck up. Whad’ya mean, he almost kissed you? How’s that even happen? He hasn’t seen or spoken to you in years, and the first thing he does is try and pick up where ya’ll left off? This guy’s got some nerve.”

  “Well, in his defense, I may have been flirting with him just a little bit,” I answer coyly.

  “Lord, help us.” Sam lets out a dramatic sigh. “He broke your heart, Sky. You cried over that boy for a whole year.”

  I make a scoffing noise and disagree. “It was not a year. Six months. I gave him six months, and then I was done waiting.”

  “Yes! The operative word here being done. You were doing so well. Sweetie, what the hell were you thinking?”

  “Umm, that he used to be a really great kisser and maybe I wanted to see if he still had it in him,” I quip smartly. “Look, I know it’s crazy. But you know how I feel about him. He never went through with it, so it’s no big deal.”

  “I don’t know. Kinda sounds like it was a big deal. I mean, t
his is THE guy.”

  “Sam,” I warn, and she goes quiet, allowing me to listen to the hustle and bustle that is New York.

  “You think he knows you’re still in love with him?”

  “I don’t think so; at least I hope not. That would just complicate things right now. Besides, I don’t know that I’m in love with Scott Rivers. I am curious about who he is now, but I think I’m more in love with the memory of Scott Rivers. The Scott I knew before everything went to hell. I’ve thought about how everything went down and how he had changed during those last few weeks we were together. I always wondered what had happened. Had I done something to make him look at me differently?”

  “Any idea if he still has feelings for you? Almost kissing aside, of course.” She giggles.

  “I think there’s something there. I’m not ready to label it, but he still looks at me the way he used to. I have to admit, it was a little unnerving,” I admit.

  “Is that why you took this assignment? To finally get the answers to those burning questions? ‘Cause you’d be a damn fool not to take advantage of this opportunity. It may be your only chance,” she says pointedly.

  From the moment we became friends, Sam has always been my voice of reason. Sure, she’s gotten us into some crazy shit, but she always calls it like she sees it. No sugarcoating anything with her. I love that about her.

  “You’re right. I think I deserve to know. I’ll sit him down and ask him in a few days when he gets back.” I find myself nodding my head even though she can’t see me.

  “Back? Where’s he going?”

  “Oh, he and his friends are heading to northern Michigan tomorrow. One of the guys has a house up there. They’ll go skiing and hang out. Kind of a last hoorah before the official hockey season starts. They invited me to go, but…”

  “But, what? That sounds like a blast, not to mention the perfect setting for you to corner him into explaining himself. Who knows, it may be the perfect romantic getaway. You could get your kiss. Maybe satisfy a long overdue itch that needs scratching.”

  “Sam!” I snort. “I’m not going all the way up north to seduce a man.”

  She curses under her breath. “Okay. Okay. I still say you’re a fool for not trying to lure that man into bed. I’m looking at his IG right now, and good God, woman! That man is HAWT!!”

  I laugh at her enthusiasm and agree. “You’ll get no argument from me. Of course, I’ve always thought of him as sexy.”

  “So, if you’re not packing for a weekend of sex, what are you going to do?”

  “Well, I was thinking about curling up with a soft blanket and bingeing on Captain America movies.”

  “Hmmm. Trading one hottie for another. While I agree Chris Evans looks amazing in that tight getup, that still doesn’t beat having a red-blooded man right at your fingertips.” She hiccups, and I know if we were in the same apartment, this would be my cue to take her to bed.

  “Sam?” I chuckle. “Just how many of those drinks have you had?”

  “I haven’t a fucking clue. A lot.”

  “Sweetie, I think maybe it’s time for bed. I don’t know about you, but I’m tired.” I fake a yawn and seconds later hear her do the same.

  “Sky,” she murmurs. “If you want him to kiss you, just tell him. Guys love that shhhit.” Her words slur off, and I hear a thump followed by a groan.

  “Babe, you okay over there?”

  “Peachy. Nighty night, Sky.” The phone goes silent as she ends the call. I can only hope she made it to the bed before passing out.

  I set my glass in the dishwasher, along with my dishes from earlier today, and set it to run while I’m sleeping. I shuffle down the hall and turn on the shower.

  The hot water feels good beating on my shoulders. I guess I didn’t realize just how tense seeing Scott has made me. I take my time, luxuriating under the waterfall showerhead. I wash my hair. Shave my legs. Scrub every inch of my body with my favorite toasted-almond and vanilla body wash. After toweling off, I run a blow dryer over my hair to keep it from turning into a bird’s nest while I’m sleeping. By the time I crawl into bed, I’m physically drained, but my brain won’t turn off.

  Had he really been about to kiss me? Or had that been a figment of my imagination? I’ll admit that seeing him was more of a shock to my system than I’d originally anticipated. A small part of me wanted to make a snarky comment about his little bathroom adventure, but I decided it would probably only make me appear jealous, and I’m not ready to play my hand just yet. If at all.

  I don’t know how it’s possible, but somehow, he’s gotten better-looking. In fact, his friends are all incredibly gorgeous and so freaking sweet. Gah! Cassie’s boyfriend, Brantley, is so darn charming. I’m sure a weekend spent with all of them would have been a lot of fun. I wanted so badly to throw caution to the wind and just say yes, and I’d been ready to, but after our conversation in the den, I didn’t trust myself to be alone with Scott. At least this way, I can spend time with him and retreat to my own apartment. Up there, I wouldn’t have a means of escape.

  I lie in bed, staring up at the ceiling and wondering what he’s doing right now. Is he thinking about me? Does he wish he’d gone through with that kiss? Does he ever touch himself and think of me? The same way I’ve touched myself and thought of him on so many occasions?

  Occasions like right now…

  My hand grazes the front of my panties, and three minutes later, only one name falls past my parted lips. Once my breathing evens out, I drift into a peaceful sleep.

  ***

  I wake to a disaster. Two inches of standing water cover the entire kitchen floor and most of the living room’s carpeted area. I quickly place a call to maintenance then throw on a random pair of leggings, t-shirt, and a pair of rubber boots. I snag a hair tie off the counter and pull my hair up as I slosh through the mess. Thank goodness, I took a shower before I went to bed. While I wait for them to show, I gather my camera equipment and place everything valuable on the bed, just to be safe. It’s obvious this kind of repair won’t be finished right away. I’m no contractor, but I’m fairly certain this is going to involve new drywall and carpet.

  Fifteen minutes later, there’s a knock on my door.

  I wait by the bedroom, while two men assess the damages. When they’ve finished their walk-through, I’m told a pipe under my kitchen sink burst, thus causing the excessive flooding. He then proceeds to tell me because of the holiday, it could be three days before everything is back in order. When I ask about another unit, I’m told none are available.

  Great. Guess I’m hotel bound.

  I fire off a text to Mitch and let him know what’s going on. I also inform him I’ll be charging a hotel room to the company credit card. I’m in the middle of tossing clothes into my suitcase when there’s another knock on my door. Assuming one of the maintenance crew has left something behind, I open the door without checking the peephole.

  Scott is on the other side of the door, one shoulder braced against the doorjamb. A subtle smile forms after he takes in my appearance. Honestly, I must look a sight. I’m dressed like a slob, and I haven’t had a chance to brush my teeth. Kill me now.

  “Heard you were having a bit of a disaster happening.” His gravelly morning voice interrupts my pity party.

  Good. God.

  It’s barely seven in the morning, and it looks as though he’s just stepped off the cover of a magazine. His hair is still damp and mussed like he recently showered and ran his fingers through it on his way out the door. The grey tank he’s wearing… I don’t know which brand it is, but I swear to God the designer had Scott Rivers in mind when they sat down to sketch it out. If there was ever a time for me to admit I believe in magic, it’d be now, because somehow this man has managed to get better-looking overnight.

  I fold my arms in front of me before propping a hip against the door frame, openly eyeing all the rippling muscles on display. “Is that so? You here to rip out my carpeting? ‘Cause right now, tha
t’s one of the issues I’m having,” I tease, enjoying the smile that flirts with his eyes.

  “Nope,” he replies, making sure to pop the ‘p’ as his eyes rake over my appearance. I cringe, knowing full well when placed next to him, I probably look like a homeless person in this getup. “I’m here to kidnap you. You’re coming up north with us.” He takes another look at my boots and grimaces. “But first, we need to find you something else to put on.”

  “What’s wrong?” I take offense. “Do you find my footwear offensive, Mr. Rivers?”

  “On the contrary, Miss Dennison, I find your rubber duckies to be incredibly sexy, as in ‘if you don’t take them off right now, I’m going to find it impossible to keep my hands off you.’ Capiche?”

  My toes curl at his words, and I seriously consider putting his theory to the test and keeping the boots on. I feel weak admitting this, but the idea of having his hands on me is not something I would object to. If memory serves, his hands had always been very capable, and I used to love it when they’d take their time exploring my body.

  Don’t think about his hands.

  He steps into my personal space, and I choke down the nervous knot lodged in the back of my throat. For a moment, panic floods over me and I’m unsure of what I should do next. His chuckle is what snaps me out of it, and it’s then I realize his only intention was to come into my apartment. I blush and take a step back to let him through, and right away he groans when water seeps over the tops of his flip-flops.