by H Q Kingsley
He was so fucking frustrating. All his goddamned talk about there being a storm coming or whatever was just him being paranoid. And I couldn't blame him. He spent his time pissing people off and acting like he was such a big shot that he couldn't be taken down. Of course, someone was going to want to try.
I should have thrown that in his face while he was ragging on me about wanting a relationship like it was some kind of crime.
Just because he was happy never having anything else didn't mean I was, and I didn't know why that had to be such a big fucking deal all the time.
He almost seemed glad every time something blew up in my face. When I was left alone and upset. Like it proved his point that we didn't need anything other than what we already had.
Well, fuck him. He didn't know shit.
My phone buzzed in my pocket with a text, and I pulled it out, ready to tell Patrick to fuck the hell off and stop texting me, but it was from Skylar.
You still good for tomorrow?
I let out a slow breath and dropped onto the couch, trying to calm down. Patrick was an asshole, but I did have a date with a cute guy tomorrow, so life wasn't all bad...currently anyway.
Yeah, definitely. I sent back. I'm really looking forward to it.
I didn't want to seem too desperate, so I kept it casual. I hated that Patrick had used that word to describe me. I wasn't running around panting after guys like some kind of pathetic idiot. Before Skylar, it had been months since my last date.
I’m not fucking desperate, I thought angrily, putting my phone on the table. I was just...lonely sometimes. There was nothing wrong with that.
Just when I was starting to calm down, my phone rang, and Patrick's name and face—my fucking face—popped up on the screen. Angrily, I jabbed at the screen, ignoring the call.
Five seconds later, he was calling again. And then again.
He was a persistent motherfucker, I could give him that, and he never knew when to leave well enough alone.
Knowing him, he'd come barging in like he always did when he got mad at me for ignoring him, so I sent him a text telling him not to show his face around my apartment because I didn't want to see him.
If he wanted to throw a tantrum, he could do it on his own time, at his own place.
I thought about painting or taking a shower, or even playing some games, but in the end, I was too pissed off to do any of that, and I ended up just taking my ass to bed. I was ready for the day to be over.
Getting ready for a date was still as nerve-wracking as I remembered it. I didn't want to be overdressed, but I didn't want to seem like I didn't care, either, so I was hoping I struck the right balance with my outfit. New jeans and a nice long-sleeved shirt was what I’d landed on, and I was slowly going crazy about the choice as I stood with my hands in my pockets while I waited for Skylar.
I was early, and I felt lame as hell for it when he showed up right on time. Was I desperate?
As I looked him over, I decided I didn’t really care. He looked good as hell in some dark jeans and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
“Hey,” I said brightly as I casually let my hand linger on the small of his back as I ushered him inside.
"This is one of my favorite places in the whole city," I said, gesturing around at the place.
It was light and airy with skylights in the ceiling, letting in natural light to view the art by. The floors were shiny polished marble, and everything about the place was just calming.
Already I could feel the lingering anger at my brother melting from my shoulders, and I let out a soft sigh.
"It's beautiful," Skylar said. "Would you believe I've never been here before? I've lived in the city most of my life, and I never found the time."
I smiled at him. "Well, you're here now. Where do you want to start?"
"Lead the way," he said, smiling back. "I'm here to learn from you."
I felt a little thrill of excitement at that. I'd never had the chance to take someone around the gallery before and show them all my favorite things. I could honestly stay there for hours, just absorbed in the paintings and sculptures on display, but I didn't want to come off as some kind of nerd if the real reason Skylar was interested in me was because he thought I was just some kind of badass. I didn't know why I couldn't be both, but whatever.
We started on one end, and the more I talked about the paintings, the more I relaxed. Skylar was an attentive student. He listened to me talk about brush strokes and color composition, sometimes asking questions, sometimes just looking up at me while I explained things, my fingertips hovering just a bit away from the canvases while I pointed things out.
We stood in front of paintings for a bit and then moved on, and every time we stopped in front of a new one, it seemed like he was standing just a bit closer to me than before.
I liked that...probably more than I should have. He smelled nice; his cologne was something warm and a little spicy, and it tickled my nose and made me want to lean in and get a better whiff of it.
But I held myself back. I was trying to be smooth and not weird. I was having a good time, but I kept hearing my brother's voice in the back of my mind, calling me desperate. I didn't want to come off like that. I didn’t want to be needy.
Skylar was really chill, and I didn't want to scare him off.
There was one painting, a watercolor scene of the city seen over the water, and I took it in for a bit, and Skylar quietly stood beside me.
"You really like this one," he said after a while, and I turned to look at him.
"Yeah, I do,” I said. “How can you tell?"
He shrugged. "I don't know, there's this look on your face. Like you're...mesmerized by it. I don't know, that might not be the right word." He looked a bit embarrassed, and his cheeks flushed a little.
"No, you're right,” I said with a grin. “I'm no good at watercolor, so I'm pretty impressed they made everything look so vibrant. I mean, look at this. It almost seems real, right? Like the lights and the stars are really twinkling in the darkness. The water feels like it's moving. It's not easy to get that kind of depth on canvas. I've never managed it."
"I bet that's not true," he said. "You know what they say about us being our own worst critics."
I quirked a little smile at him. "Yeah, maybe. I just gotta practice more. I usually stick to acrylic because it's easier for me, but art is mostly about experimentation, you know? Trying new shit and seeing what happens. If you stick to the same thing you're used to, you'll never grow."
He looked at me while I talked, a thoughtful expression on his face, and I started to get self-conscious about just going off about art so much.
"Sorry," I said. "You can tell me to shut up if I'm talking too much or being too weird."
Skylar smiled and shook his head. "No, I like it. I really like this side of you.” His eyes softened as he looked at me. “Keep going."
Warmth spread through me, and I tried not to look like a melting popsicle even though it was exactly how I felt on the inside. Skylar made it very hard to play it cool.
We stopped in front of another painting, and I started talking about pouring acrylic when Skyler snorted with amusement.
I looked at him, my brows pulling together in confusion. "What's funny?"
"Nothing, it's just..." He shook his head and then glanced around to make sure no one was close enough to hear. We were mostly alone for the moment, but he leaned in anyway. "You see what it looks like, right?"
I frowned and looked back at the canvas. It was a poured piece, different colors of acrylic paint poured onto the canvas so the colors spread out in rings that had varying shapes and sizes. They started to go kind of oblong in the middle, and when I stepped back, I could see what Skylar thought was so funny. The center blob kind of did look like a dick.
"Oh my god," I said, cracking up. "I can't take you anywhere nice."
"I'm sorry!" he said, laughing too. "I wasn't going to say anything. I promise I was list
ening to you the whole time. I just couldn't not see it."
"And now I can't not see it!" I said, playfully smacking him on the arm.
We stood there laughing for a minute, and Skylar put a hand on my shoulder to brace himself as he cracked up. I wanted to take his hand and pull him closer to me, maybe lean down and kiss him right there in front of the dick painting, but I didn't.
I wanted to wait for him to make the first move so he didn't feel like I was pressuring him or anything.
But the moment passed, and he smiled at me before we moved on to the next painting.
We walked around for another couple hours, and I could have stayed longer just talking to Skylar and smelling his cologne and wishing he'd stand even closer to me. But the gallery closed at ten, and I didn't want to bore Skylar.
So we headed outside once we'd seen everything, and I shoved my hands into my pockets, my heart racing in my chest. By the time we were at the last painting, Skylar had been right there next to me, practically touching me, and I’d felt like there was something in the air. A closeness that seemed only natural to follow up with a kiss. I stood there, waiting, trying not to expect it, but definitely expecting it.
"Thanks for tonight," Skylar said, and the distance that hadn't been there in the gallery was back. "I really had fun."
"Yeah," I said, trying not to seem as taken aback as I felt. What had happened? Things had felt like they were going...somewhere. Somewhere more than ‘I really had fun.’
"You're welcome,” I said. “They change up stuff every month or so...so, you know... if you wanted, we could come back."
Skylar grinned, and it made me feel a little less tense about not getting my fairytale date ending.
"I'd like that," he said.
For a second, we just stood there, looking at each other, and despite myself, I started hoping again that maybe the night wasn’t over.
But then Skyler smiled and stepped even further away. "I should head out, I guess. It's getting late," he said.
"Oh.” I deflated. Why was I so fucking stupid and needy? No wonder Patrick was always pissed at me.
“Yeah, I guess it is,” I said, trying not to sound disappointed. “Can I give you a lift home?"
He shook his head. "Nah, that's okay. I don't want you to have to go out of your way."
He waved and then turned to walk away, leaving me standing there, staring after him.
It was a short walk back to my car, but I felt miserable while I went. I’d thought we'd been having a good time, and I was reading all the signs right. He'd stood close to me and touched my arm. Laughed at my jokes that weren't really that funny, and he'd smiled at me all night.
Maybe he was just being nice? Maybe it was just a friend thing. I'd been out of the game for so long I had no idea if there were new signs or if it had just been wishful thinking to think he liked me like that.
Maybe it hadn't even been a date after all.
As I walked a ways down the road, I saw Skylar waiting for the bus, and I sat in my car until it picked him up and started to head toward downtown.
I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel for a second, and even though I knew I shouldn't, the curiosity and need to know had gripped me, and I put my car into gear and followed that bus.
I'd had partners cheat on me before, and if I was going to waste my time liking this guy, then I needed to know what was going on.
At least that was what I told myself. I couldn’t entertain the thoughts in the back of my mind telling me following a guy that you went on a maybe-date with was exactly the kind of desperate thing Patrick would yell at me for.
Skylar got off the bus at the first stop downtown and then walked the rest of the way to a dive bar that barely stood out. Malone's. I'd never been there, but there was a first time for everything.
I parked a block or so up the road and waited until Skylar walked in to follow him on foot.
It was a packed bar, and with all the smoke and shouting, it was impossible to hear any one particular conversation. I stood in the doorway for a second, scanning the room for Skylar and then caught sight of him going to sit down with a woman.
I was more into men, but even I could tell she was gorgeous. She smiled when he sat down, and he rolled his eyes at something she said before leaning in closer so she could hear him over the noise of the bar.
She leaned in to respond, and there was just something so intimate looking about it. Clearly, they met here a lot.
I frowned as I realized what I was watching. Skylar...with his girlfriend.
I turned away unable to watch anymore.
“You stupid fucking idiot!” I whispered harshly at myself.
Maybe Patrick was right. Maybe I did waste my time chasing after people when I should have been focusing on other things. Because it always ended up like this.
I was crushed, feeling like I'd struck out again. This time, before I'd even really gotten a chance to know Skylar. I mean, it was better to find out sooner rather than later that he was taken and fucking straight, but whatever.
I was allowed to mope about it.
Footsteps echoed behind me when I started walking to my car, and someone called my name.
I turned to see Skylar coming after me, and I made a face.
Great. Just fucking great. Not only was he straight and not interested, but he'd also caught me stalking him. We could have probably been friends before if I’d known how to leave well enough alone and not be a fucking creeper, but now I just looked like a fool. A creepy, lonely fool.
“I can explain,” I said and was surprised that he echoed me with the same thing.
We both just stood there, blinking at each other in confusion for a second, and I shook my head.
"You should go first," I said, gesturing at him.
He rapidly shook his head. "No, you go ahead," he said.
I sighed. That seemed fair. After all, I was the one he'd caught stalking him, basically.
"Look, I'm sorry I followed you," I said. "I swear I'm not some creepy stalker, I just...I don't know. I thought..." I sighed, not even sure what I wanted to say. "It doesn't matter what I thought, I guess. That was probably your wife in there, and you've got three kids and a white picket fence and the whole nine."
I hung my head, waiting for him to confirm what I'd said, but instead, he laughed softly, and I snapped my head back up to glare at him. Apparently, my misery was funny. Well, fine. I didn't have to hang around and get laughed at.
I turned to leave, but he reached out and touched my arm, stopping me.
"Wait, wait,” he said gently. “Paddox, I'm sorry, I wasn't laughing at you. Just...I'm definitely not married. To anyone. That girl in there is just my friend. I was just telling her how our date went. I had to promise to check in with her afterward, you know? Because it's been a while for me, and she worries. That's all."
His mouth was still moving, but I'd kind of stopped listening after I heard him refer to our outing as a date. "So it was a date?"
He rolled his eyes but was grinning. "Yeah, it was. And anyway, she's definitely not my type."
I licked my lips, stepping in closer and feeling a little bolder. "That's good to hear," I said. "Maybe...I'm your type?" I asked hopefully.
Skylar grinned wider. "As a matter of fact, you definitely are."
He leaned in, hesitantly, stopping for a moment before he pushed all the way in and kissed me.
It was soft, just a brush of his lips against mine, but it set my heart racing, and I could feel my pulse pounding through my entire body. That spark that always happened when he touched me was nothing compared to the jolt of want I felt when he kissed me, and I had to take a second to calm down when he stepped back.
"I should have done that earlier," Skylar said. "I wanted to kick myself for chickening out."
"I wanted to kick you, too," I said, giving him a crooked grin.
I stepped back into him, lingering for just a moment before I pulled him back in for another kiss,
this time more firm, more intentional. He wanted me back. It had been a real date. The connection I’d felt had been real.
I was overwhelmed with warmth, and I wanted to share that with him in the only way I knew how. So, I kissed him fiercely, way too emphatically for the fact that we were outside in the middle of the sidewalk.
Skylar's mouth was soft and yielding, and he kissed me back easily, fisting one hand in my shirt and stepping in even closer to close the small distance between our bodies until he was firmly against me. He felt good there. He felt...right so tightly against me.
I pressed my hand to the back of his head, kissing him more deeply. He tasted sweet and warm, and my tongue chased that flavor into his mouth, wanting to tangle with his.
He parted his lips for me, making a soft sound into the kiss, and I grabbed him harder. My hand slipped down his head, grazing over his neck and down his back until I slowed to feel over the tempting curve of his ass.
Fuck, his ass was perfect. His lips were perfect. He was...perfect.
Kissing him was so good. I loved kissing. All the other stuff was good, too, like really good if you were with the right person, but there was something about a really good kiss that just knocked me for a loop.
And Skylar sure as fuck knew how to kiss. His kiss was just the right amount of timid but unyielding. He kissed me like I was the first and only person he’d ever wanted to kiss. I could tell he wanted me with each brush of lips and each press of our tongues together, and when I finally pulled back to let him breathe, he made a small noise of complaint.
He looked good with shiny, kiss bruised lips and half-lidded eyes, and I licked my lips and took his hand.
"Do you want to come back to my place?" I asked, feeling braver now that I knew that our want was mutual.
He nodded, dragging a hand through his hair. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I do."
9
Skyler
Paddox's apartment was definitely not what I'd been expecting. I figured both of the twins would have taken their money from the business and would be living in the lap of luxury with it. I'd pretty much pinned them both as being the type to want to show off their ill-gained wealth, but clearly, I’d been wrong.