17. Skylar
CHAPTER 17
SKYLAR
C limbing from my car, I tug off my helmet and wipe my sweaty face on my arm as I frown at Mackie. “We felt slower that time.”
“We have been at it for ten hours,” he says with a tired smile. “I know you want us to be the best, but it means balancing practice and rest.”
“I know, I know. You sound like Noah. How about one more time?” I plead. I just want to make sure we win—not just for us, but for Bones as well, since he’ll be here too.
“Alright, alright, one last time,” Mackie warns as he pulls his helmet back on. I’m about to pull mine down when I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket. Grabbing it, I go to silence the call when I realize who it is, and then I swiftly answer.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” I ask.
Bones never calls me, not ever, and my heart hammers in fear. What if something happened to him? What if he’s hurt?
“I need you.” His voice is flat, but I still hear a lot of fucking pain.
I flag Mackie down and shake my head. “One second, baby.” Covering the phone, I tell Mackie, “Let’s call it a night. I have to go.”
“Wait, Sky,” he calls as I leave my helmet and rush across the tarmac to the garage. I head to the locker room, holding the phone to my ear as I start to strip from my suit.
“What’s wrong?” I ask again. “Are you hurt? Are you safe?”
“I’m fine. I don’t know why I called,” he admits, his voice so soft and quiet I barely hear him. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have. You’re busy?—”
“Wait, wait, keep talking to me,” I implore, kicking off my boots. “I’m glad you called.” I sit and quickly undo my suit, putting him on speaker so I can undress and hang it up.
“What’s going on?” I ask as I shove my head into my shirt and pull it down before tugging on my jeans. I’m hopping to get them on when there’s a knock.
“Sky, Mackie said you’re in here. Is everything okay? He said you left pretty suddenly,” Noah calls worriedly.
“Shit, you’re busy. I’ll go.” Bones hangs up, and I curse as I shove my boots on and throw my jacket over my shoulders, closing the locker door to see Noah.
“Yeah, sorry, I have to go,” I tell him, and he must sense my worry because he nods.
“Need me to drive you anywhere?”
“No, but thanks, boss. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I call as I hightail it out of there, waving at Alek who watches me with a frown. By the time I’m in my car, I’m redialing Bones, but it goes straight to voicemail.
Fuck.
I speed through downtown as quickly as I can, and once I pull up outside Bones’s building, I type in a text.
Skylar: I’m outside. Either come out and talk to me or I’ll come up. Your choice.
I give him five minutes. I even turn on a timer on my phone, watching it count down.
Something is wrong, and he called me, which means he wants to talk. I’ll wait all night if I have to. Bones never asks for anything, so if he’s reaching out now, it’s important, and I want to ensure he’s okay.
He sounded tired and sad, something I never thought I would hear from him. He has it together at all times.
The timer is just hitting thirty seconds left when the front door opens and Bones peers out. He sighs deeply when he sees me but heads over, wearing some loose pajama pants and a half open shirt. He isn’t dressed for the weather, which worries me more.
Something is definitely wrong.
He opens the passenger door. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called you?—”
“Either get in or I’m making you,” I order, and he startles at my tone but slowly slides into my car before shutting the door. He won’t look me in the eyes though. Turning the heat on, I reach over and buckle his belt, meeting his gaze. His eyes widen and drop to my lips for a moment, and I quickly lean back, not wanting to ruin this by taking liberties when all I want to do is kiss that look off his face.
“Wait, where are we going?” he asks when I pull out of the parking area.
“For a drive until you’re ready to talk about whatever is bothering you, or if you never are, then at least you won’t be alone tonight while something is wrong. Either is fine with me. Driving around always makes me feel . . . freer, so I thought it might do the same for you.”
He’s quiet for a while, which is fine. I just want him to know I’m here for him. Whatever is happening, he isn’t alone.
That’s all I want to be for Bones, a shoulder he can lean on.
I drive for a while, and he seems content to work through his thoughts and just be in my presence. Eventually, I park at the overlook above the city and turn off the engine, then I turn to him. “Come on.”
He startles at my voice, his eyes sweeping over me. “Huh?” he croaks.
I slide from the car, and a moment later, he follows, hesitating in his open door. Letting him decide, I climb onto the hood and lie back, my arms under my head as I stare up at the sky. It’s quiet. There are no sounds of traffic from the city, just us and the insects. A few moments later, I hear his door shut and the crunching of gravel under his feet before he climbs up next to me.
Turning my eyes to him, I find him sitting awkwardly, staring out at the city. I reach up and tug him back. He falls with a gasp, sprawling next to me. “Skylar,” he snaps.
“Shut up and relax, angel,” I tell him as I turn my gaze back to the sky.
He’s quiet again for a minute before I hear his grumbling voice fill the air. “You know people come here to hook up, right?”
“And how would you know that?” I tease, nudging his shoulder without looking.
He sighs deeply but settles back onto the car, our arms inches apart. I let him continue to think because I don’t want to be a burden to Bones, but a safe place. If he needs to sit here all night in silence, then we will.
I almost jump out of my skin when he slides closer. I don’t move, and I barely breathe. When I glance down, I find his arm between us, so close I could touch him.
I drop one arm from under my head to the hood, placing it close to his, and I can feel the heat from his skin. Ever so slowly, I inch my pinky across the slippery hood until I feel the softness of his, and then I hook mine around his finger. Stiff as a statue, I wait for him to yell at me, hit me, or pull away, but he surprises me when he does none of these things.
He just lets me connect us without a word.
I want to scream in joy, but I also know that means something is probably very wrong.
“If you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m here,” I say softly. “I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”
“By whom?” he scoffs, and I feel his eyes on me. I turn my head, finding him turned partially on his side to face me.
“Everyone.” I grin, and he arches a brow. “Okay, Evan told me like one time, but the point remains—I’m here for you. I know something’s wrong, and sometimes it helps to talk about it. Keeping it bottled up just makes you feel like you’re drowning and all alone. Let me be your life raft.”
“Cheesy bastard,” he mutters, but his lips roll in as his eyes sweep over my face. “I hate today.”
“Friday?” I ask, confused.
His smile is small and bitter. “No, today’s date.”
I wonder if he will tell me if I ask him, but in his bright eyes, I see a drowning man, searching for a helping hand. He’s all alone and icing over in that water, and I refuse to let him sink when I’m right here.
“Why?” I ask.
He watches me for a moment, and I don’t think he’ll answer when his voice finally comes. “It’s the day I lost the most important thing in my life.”
Frowning, I cover his hand and squeeze as he swallows hard. “Lost?”
He nods, searching my eyes as if looking for strength. “He was just . . . gone. To this day, I don’t know what happened to him. Everything was so great. I was happier than I’d ever been, and then it was all gone and I was lost and alone, and I still am. I’m still waiting for him to show, still waiting at that bus stop, my bag in hand. I can’t move on because I don’t know what happened,” he rambles, and I try to make sense of what he’s saying. His voice is trembling and so thick at the end, it’s hard to understand.
Twining my fingers with his, I kiss the back of his hand as I stare into his eyes. “Have you ever spoken about this to anyone?”
He shakes his head, watching me carefully.
“You loved this person?” I can tell that much—it’s in his voice.
He nods this time, and when his mouth parts, it’s like the floodgates open.
His eyes turn glassy, and my heart clenches at the agony in his gaze.
How long has he been heartbroken and hurting?
“I loved him, and I lost him, and it really fucking hurts.” The tears finally break free and spill down his face. His lower lip trembles, and I can tell he’s trying hard to keep it together.
Sitting up, I tug him into my arms. He’s stiff for a moment. “I have you. I’m here, just let it out. There’s no one else around,” I promise softly as I press my mouth to his hair.
His arms wrap around me, and he buries his face against my chest. His back shakes, and he holds me tighter as his soft sobs reach me. Even now, he keeps them in check, but at least he lets them out. I hold him through it, stroking his back.
“Shh, that’s it, let it out. I’m right here, you’re not alone,” I murmur, raining kisses across his hair as he soaks my shirt.
We sit under the moonlight, overlooking the city that has scarred us both. I hold him as he falls apart, and my heart hurts for him. I struggle to breathe through it, and I feel tears fall from my own eyes. I try to hide them as he cries, but he must sense it because he pulls back.
“Why are you crying?” he whispers as he stares at my face.
“For you,” I reply. As I stare into this man’s eyes, I realize that this might have started as something to pass the time, but this man right here has stolen my heart and soul and become everything for me, so when he cries, it destroys me. I want to find everyone who has hurt him and make them pay, but I know he can fight his own battles, so instead, I offer the only thing I can—my arms.
“I never expected you to be someone who cries,” he admits as he wipes his face, embarrassment heating his cheeks.
“It isn’t weak to show your emotions to someone, Bones. It’s brave and makes you strong and so much more lovable.”
“What’s the point?” he rasps. “There’s nothing left of me to love.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I whisper as I rub under his puffy eyes. “You don’t see yourself as I do, as we all do. There is so much of you to love, Bones, and I will keep showing you every day until you understand.”
He watches me for a moment, his eyes red, and he has never looked more beautiful.
“You beautiful, beautiful boy,” I whisper, unable to help it.
He finally laughs. “I’m a mess.”
“I like you messy,” I admit with a grin and wipe away his tears. “I like seeing this side of you that no one else does. When you’re cute, jealous, drunk, or sad, it just makes you more real to me and less untouchable.”
“Why are you so nice to me? I’m horrible to you,” he asks, leaning into my hands, and the fact that he doesn’t even seem to realize what he’s doing makes my heart race.
“I think you don’t know how to be loved and that you’re mean because you’re scared. Deep down, you want someone to love you. You’re just terrified to let them. That’s why I’m nice to you, because I see past the snark, past the cruel words, and to the man underneath who teaches self-defense so no one has to feel scared again, the man who stood with his friends in the face of a deranged serial killer, who fought silently to keep the memorial up, never asking for a thank you. You are so deserving of being loved, Bones, my beautiful boy. I know this world has been cruel to you, but I promise I will never be. I will never hurt you, leave, or betray you. I will be right here, like the statue in the wind, unchanging and unmoving. I know you think that I don’t take anything in life seriously, but you’re wrong. I take you seriously. From the moment I laid eyes on you, you changed me. You made me want more. I can wait for you, I can wait forever if I have to, but don’t ever think you can push me away because you can’t. I’m not going anywhere.”
I can feel his heart pounding as he stares at me. He’s looking for a trap in my promise, a trick, his lawyer brain searching for loopholes in my promise, but there aren’t any.
My words might never be as eloquent as his, but I meant every single one of them.
I will stay at his side, even when he doesn’t want me.
I’m about to drop my hands and lean away to give him space, knowing I’m probably overwhelming him, when he speaks.
“You told me to ask you in the morning.”
“Huh?” I ask, completely confused.
He swallows, his tongue darting out to trace his lips, and I follow the movement, my heart starting to pound for a whole other reason.
“If I wanted to kiss you when I was sober, you told me to ask in the morning,” he says, his voice confident.
My eyes dart up to his, hope blooming in me, one I dare not feel, but there’s a softness in his gaze, a want I can’t deny, and neither can he.
“Are you asking, baby?” I question carefully, needing to be sure.
I don’t want our first kiss to be because he’s sad, lonely, or drunk—not when it will mean everything to me. I want it to be the same for him.
“If I was?” he murmurs, glancing at my lips for a moment as we seem to draw closer together until our breaths mingle, the air becoming tight with tension.
“Then I’d be the happiest man on earth,” I admit, “but I want you to be sure. Kiss me, Bones, because you want me. You’re giving me hope, know that, so don’t ask if you aren’t certain.”
I don’t think I could bear him turning away from me after.
“Skylar, will you kiss me?” he asks breathlessly. When I just stare, he starts to pull away. “I?—”
Closing the small distance between us, I press my lips to his before barely pulling back in case he changes his mind. “Anything you want from me, angel, all you have to do is ask. You know that. I will always give you whatever you need or want, even me.” Sliding my hand up his cheek and into his hair, I brush my mouth across his.
His lips part, his eyes sliding shut, and I want to scream in victory. Instead, I pull him closer as I deepen the kiss.
I swallow his gasp, sweeping my tongue in to tangle with his. My cock hardens in my pants, but I ignore it, ignore my body and my wants.
This isn’t just sex between us.
This is so much more, and my heart knows it as I taste the first kiss of the man I am falling in love with.
The man whose kiss I want to be my last.