When Sky Breaks: Burn & Break Duet Book 2

12. Sky

“I hopeyou all like sushi. Your grocery store didn’t have it, so I drove around until I found a place in the next town. How do you not have a single sushi place around here?” His brown eyes are shiny, and his smile is like a kid on Christmas morning.

I let Johnny into our house as dread drips into my belly. He looks so happy to have found sushi that I’m terrified of letting him know we absolutely hate it.

Shit.

“We may be closer to the ocean here in southern Indiana, but most of us were raised on meat and potatoes,” I say, accepting a kiss on my cheek before leading him to the kitchen where Trek and Foster wait.

“Well, you and I both know how bad that kind of diet is in the long run.”

I don’t answer, taking the bag from his hand and placing it on the countertop.

Not about to get into what consuming raw fish can do to a person, I turn to Foster and gesture to Johnny. “Dad, I know you met Johnny at the hospital, but thought maybe a more formal introduction would be good.”

Johnny winks at me, and for a split second, I mistake the butterflies in my belly for excitement. But I want to crawl out of my skin. No wonder I never brought home any guy—this is uncomfortable.

I’m underdressed compared to Johnny, my jeans a little too loose, my hair a little flat, and my makeup too minimal. Now, toss in the sophisticated sushi and I don’t even feel like Sky Winters anymore.

That’s what you wanted, remember?

“Nice to meet you again,” Foster says, shaking Johnny’s hand with a firm grip.

Trek peels himself from the edge of the countertop. “I’m Trek, Sky’s brother.”

“I remember you from the bar. Good to see you again, man.” Johnny takes Trek’s outstretched hand and pumps it before turning to the offensive bag on the island, the smell finally making its presence known.

“What did you bring us, Doc?” Trek arches a brow, his arms crossed over the old college sweatshirt he’s wearing.

Johnny rubs his hands together and I brace myself. “Sushi. God, you guys, this stuff is amazing. I was telling Sky I can’t believe you don’t have a place around here that serves this.”

Foster and Trek both frown and quickly try to school their faces when he sets the trays on the dining room table.

“Foodie, eh?” Foster eyes the little sushi rolls like they’re going to flop off the plate to the nearest bowl of water.

“Absolutely. Sky and I went to this little bistro up north, and they had the best steamed veggies. I knew she’d adore them, and I was right.” Johnny arranges the containers on the table and stares at them reverently as he unwraps the chopsticks. “Dig in. They’re best when they’re nice and cold.”

“Sky, can I talk to you a sec?” Trek looks at me over Johnny’s shoulder and raises from his chair.

I swallow. “Sure. Guys, we’ll grab some drinks from the garage.”

“Do you have any wine?” Johnny asks, a sushi roll halfway to his mouth.

I flush. “Oh, uh, no, we don’t, but will water work? We have spring water.”

“That’s fine, babe. Thanks.”

Trek thins his eyes at Johnny before I yank on his arm. Once inside the garage, I flip on the light as Trek rambles.

“Sis. The man is trying to poison us with raw seafood. Who knows how long that stuff has been sitting on the shelf?”

I roll my eyes and pull open the fridge. “Relax. Knowing Johnny, it’s the expensive kind. Besides, don’t you want to live a little and not eat cereal for dinner every day?”

He huffs. “Exactly. I want to live and that won’t happen if I consume that—that stuff. Cereal is full of preservatives. I’m guaranteed to live until I’m two hundred years old by eating it.”

Any other time, I’d think Trek was hilarious with his haughty little attitude, but I want to lash out. “Can you please just do this for me? Entertain the idea that this is what I need? Someone different, someone who challenges me to try new things, to get out of the shell I’ve been in the last five years?”

Trek blinks as I rant, his wide blue eyes tracking me as I pace with a bottle of water in my hand.

“Jesus, Trek. I mean, I just, I don’t freaking know what to do. I don’t know what I want and fuck. I’m trying so hard to keep it together for Dad, and now that Johnny has inserted himself into this little unit, I’m trying to see if it will work. I need it to work.”

“What do you mean?”

I face him, my cheeks on fire, my body buzzing from too much adrenaline or from keeping too much in for the sake of others. “So I can move on for good.”

Trek still looks confused, and I swear to god he’s smarter than he lets on.

“From August!” I shout before clapping a hand over my mouth.

The only sound for a minute straight is the humming fridge.

Trek finally bobs his head and gently takes the bottle of water from me. “So you think shacking up with Doctor Snobby Johnny is going to make you get over August?”

I stay silent, my chest heaving from my confession.

“Listen to yourself. Does that even sound like you? Or something you even want?” He rakes his hair from his forehead and holds up a pointer finger. “For one, August doesn’t know you’re back home. But he will find out. Hell, Tiff next door probably had her binoculars out, spying as Johnny strode up our steps like a fucking celebrity. Watching him swing that bag of stinky sushi. How much you wanna bet by tomorrow, word gets to August, and he hears you’re here and seeing a man older than you with deep pockets to make up for his personality.”

He points to the door. “If that doesn’t bother you one bit—August knowing you’re off the market and happy—then I think you accomplished what you’ve set out to do. But if any part of you is not over August, then you need to talk to him. Hash it out. We fucked up. Big time. I don’t expect your forgiveness and if I know August like I used to, he’s never expected it either. But wallowing was never something you did.”

“I’m not wallowing,” I grit out, my fingers digging into the rough material of my pants.

“Maybe not. But you’re hiding from him. Just like you hid from us the last five years. I deserved it. Dad didn’t, but I get why you didn’t come home. But you’re here now. Maybe it’s time to get it all out. You might feel better once you’ve yelled at August.”

“Should I yell at you some more?” I growl.

“Go ahead, I won’t stop you. I know we still have things to work on. I’m not stupid. But I’m not giving up on you or us. We’re family, and family sticks together. I’ll apologize every day if I have to, just so you know I’m serious.” Trek lets out an exasperated sound. “And if Johnny is who you want, then I’ll support it. You know I will. Eventually, he’d grow on me. Dad too. But if you think you could forgive August and be with him, I think that needs to be explored. I saw you two together, and it was real. Johnny doesn’t even know you hate vegetables unless it’s a starch.”

Trek grabs another few bottles of water from the fridge and, with one more look in my direction, heads inside.

My lungs rattle as I inhale a deep breath, attempting to steady my fried nerves before I face all of them.

August destroyed me. Tore my heart out and left it to waste away. Forgiveness shouldn’t even be on the table.

And maybe it doesn’t have to be. I can say my piece and hope that’s enough to start living my life as freely as I want with nothing and no one holding me back.

It’s hard to let go, though. He was, at one time, my entire world. We were real. Now, I’m not so sure it was more than just a means to an end. A way for August to assuage his guilt.

Once I cool down enough to go inside, I pause just inside the threshold of the kitchen. The guys sit around the table, but instead of just sushi hijacking the middle, there are containers of leftover ribs and mashed potatoes, plus a side of macaroni and cheese.

A tiny smirk turns up my lips as I slide into my seat.

“Well, it looks like I owe your dad and brother an apology,” Johnny says, eyeing the barbecue sauce on Foster’s fingers.

“Oh, yeah?” I help myself to a plate of food, my mouth watering.

“Appears I’m not as adept in guessing everyone’s favorite food as I thought. Except for yours.”

Wrong.

But as Trek pointed out, I don’t have the heart to tell him that steamed broccoli ranks way behind this mac ’n’ cheese I’ve loaded on my plate.

Trek meets my gaze over the table, but I just glare at him until he rolls his eyes and focuses back on his food.

“It was a nice thought, young man, but before I go through chemo and the mere mention of food makes me queasy, I’m going to eat more than…sushi. No offense.”

Johnny laughs and waves a chopstick at Foster. “None taken, sir. Must be losing my touch.”

After dinner and a brief goodbye to Johnny where I let him kiss me for longer than two seconds, I plop down on the couch next to Foster and sigh.

“Your boyfriend seems nice. A little too old for my taste, but nice enough.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I grumble, picking at the stray string on the seam of the couch cushion and petting Shadow next to me. He lifts his sleepy cat head while I scratch under his chin. He’s getting old, his whiskers tinged with gray.

Foster raises a brow. “Does he know that?”

“It hasn’t come up, officially.”

“Well, a man like that probably isn’t playing games, so be sure to communicate, all right?”

I swallow and dip my chin. I can’t be stringing Johnny along if I’m not going to take it seriously.

Trek stands from the recliner and stretches. “After that riveting dinner, I’m wiped out. Going to bed.”

“Hold up,” Foster says, pointing back to the chair.

Trek sighs and plops down.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you two about this and just been preoccupied. But I need your help with something.”

“Anything,” I say, and Trek nods his assent.

“I need volunteers for the haunted house construction. I added you two to the list.”

“They’re still doing it this year?” I shift and grab a pillow to hug.

Foster crosses his feet at his ankles. “Yeah. Blake took over the planning, and he’s wanting to go all out. Dubbed it The Villain’s Playground.”

Every year, Maizeville hosts a fall festival—Festival of the Falling Leaves—and residents take over the town square with booths to sell their items and crafts. Food trucks make the town smell like fried Oreos and tacos for days after. The firehouse erects a haunted house in the field behind the building, and, with the help of volunteers for construction and materials, it’s usually the biggest attraction.

“What? Volunteer?” Trek raises his wide eyes to me.

“Don’t look at me! Look at him.” I point to Foster, who chuckles lightly.

“Dad, I work. It’s the end of the company’s fiscal year. I’ll be swamped.”

“And? I can’t exactly do all this on my own because of obvious reasons.”

I don’t really have any excuses for why I can’t volunteer. I got approved yesterday for a leave of absence using FMLA with the hospital. I’m still getting a percentage of my paycheck, plus what I had saved to cover my expenses. Other than what I’m going to do with the fact my ex-boyfriend is in town along with my current, uh, man friend, I’m free to help.

“It won’t be an issue. Trek and I got you covered.” I ignore Trek’s annoyed glare at the side of my face and busy myself with mental notes of what we need to do first. Anything to lighten Foster’s load while he goes through chemo. Besides, Trek still owes me. This can be part of his forgiveness plan.

“I knew I could count on you guys. I’ll text you Blake’s number. He’ll probably want to give you the information about what needs to be done and when.”

“Blake?” I toss my pillow and rise to make myself a cup of coffee.

Foster buys the good stuff, and I’m one of the crazy ones who can drink it before bed and still get a full eight hours of good sleep.

“Blake Gardner, he’s new to the department, so he stepped up to take this over for me once he heard about my diagnosis.”

Why does that name sound familiar?

I look at Trek, and he’s staring at me with a funky expression. I mime “what” to him as Foster yawns.

“Ohh. That Blake,” is all Trek says and I’m still wracking my brain as he continues, a smirk on his face. “Sky knows him, don’t you? Remember that night at one of Connor’s parties over the summer? You were ignoring me, but definitely not ignoring Blake.”

“What?” I screech.

Foster and Trek cover their ears.

“I do not remember him at all—ohh. Crap. Yeah.” I wish I had completely blacked out from that memory.

“Yeah, what?” Foster asks, and my face turns a lovely shade of pink.

I wave my hand and busy myself with adding creamer to my mug. “It’s nothing. It was nothing. All water under the bridge now.”

“You’re too young to say that phrase. Should I be worried?”

Trek stands and slides next to me, throwing his arm over my shoulder and pulling me close despite my scowl in his direction. “Nope. All good here, pops. We got you covered.”

“Great. We’ll catch up on more details later.”

I jab Trek in the side. He releases me with a grunt and follows me down the hall away from the kitchen.

“I cannot show my face to Blake Gardner ever again,” I hiss so Foster doesn’t hear.

“Well, we can’t disappoint Dad, sooo looks like you’re going to have to suck it up, buttercup. Get it, suck.” And he makes kissy noises and faces.

I glare, ready to toss this hot coffee on him. “Knock it off. That was a long time ago. I’m sure he doesn’t even remember. I barely remember anything from that night. I was so drunk.”

“Yeah, I know. I had to carry your ass back to the car. Bet you don’t remember that either. You were still pissed at me, but I still watched out for you. No worries, though. Blake is married with a baby on the way, so he’s definitely not going to bring up one night of making out. I was just teasing you.”

This time, I punch him in the arm, and he winces. “You deserved that. I have enough to deal with having Johnny here and now August so I’d appreciate you not giving me a heart attack. Which reminds me. We’re still working on things—this relationship.” I gesture between the two of us. “Remember that, and try not to stir up any trouble on this project.”

“Me? Pffft.”

I glare at him again, and he holds up his hands, pushing open his door with his backside. He instantly sobers his expression.

“Okay, fine. I’ll play nice. I promise,” he adds once he senses I’m not entirely convinced. “But you should know something.”

“What now?” I ask, rubbing at an eye. I’m tired of all the new information that keeps popping up. Small towns were supposed to be easy and carefree.

“August is likely to be around for the project.”

My pulse leaps. “How? In what way?”

“Colonel always hired someone to take photos of the haunted house as it’s being built and he’d print pictures off for the local paper. Now that August is the big, fancy new Snaps owner, I imagine he’s going to take his swanky camera and do the work himself.”

With that, Trek closes his door, leaving me wondering how I’m going to escape this town unscathed by the former love of my life.