23. Chapter 23
twenty-three
Boston
We’ve been sprawled out in the living room for the last half hour.
I’m lounging on the couch next to Jake while Pacey and Jonathan argue over some hook-up app matches, passing Jonathan’s phone back and forth.
Pacey keeps swiping left on girls he says look “too vanilla,” and each time Jonathan insists otherwise.
“No way,” Pacey groans, recoiling. “Tell me you did not sleep with this chick.”
“Oh, I did,” Jonathan smirks. “And bro, she was wild.”
Pacey’s eyes widen. “No shit?”
“No shit. Backdoor stuff and everything,” Jonathan says, taking a swig from a plastic flask of Screwball.
Pacey gasps. I chuckle to myself, letting my gaze drift.
Across from me, Skye’s tucked into the corner of the other sofa with Lily, chatting in hushed voices. She laughs softly at something Lily says.
My lips tug into a smile, but I school it away.
I have no business looking at her the way I am, just like I had no business hugging her like I did.
But all I can think about is how she felt in my arms—warm and soft, her bikini soaking through my shirt.
No doubt this memory is going to find its way into one of my dreams. After all, Skye’s prominently featured in them the last couple of weeks.
And now my brain has fresh material to torture me with.
Like I needed another reason to think about her at three in the morning.
Like seeing her dote on Cassie and Bronx, patching scraped knees with cartoon Band-Aids, or attempting to wrangle a mob of rowdy kids with all of five feet and zero authority wasn’t enough to dredge up every stupid high school fantasy I spent the last two years trying to get over.
I stand, dragging a hand over my face, and make my way to the kitchen.
Jake’s mom’s standing by the counter, phone in hand.
“Hey Mrs. Davis.”
“Boston,” she purrs. She sets her phone down and crosses her arms, leaning back against the island, then watches as I retrieve a glass and fill it with water. “So, how come you’re not here with some young, sexy thing bouncing on your lap?”
I glance over my shoulder at her, shrugging.
“It surprises me,” she muses. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with a girlfriend.”
“I’ve never had one.”
She raises her brows like I’ve said something unfathomable. “Never? But you’re into girls, right?”
I chuckle. “Yeah, I’m into girls.”
And one in particular…
She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Huh. I’d think you’d be, well, fending them off. Looking like you do.”
I turn off the tap. When I turn around, she’s standing closer.
“You know you’re a beautiful boy, Boston,” she says, her voice light but breathy. “Strong, quiet, polite. And so… respectful. So rare these days.”
Her eyes roll down my frame and I shift, suddenly very aware of my posture.
“I try,” I mutter.
She steps closer still, her voice lower. “Have you had sex before?”
Her directness catches me off guard.
I blink, then nod.
Her mouth quirks. “A lot of it?”
I hesitate. What is this? “Yeah, I… I guess so.”
She smiles like she already knew the answer. “When was the last time?”
I glance past her, half-expecting Jake to walk in and start laughing at the stupid prank he managed to pull. But he’s still on the couch, his arm draped over Cameron while Pacey shouts something about filters and catfishing.
I shift my weight, water forgotten in my hand. “I don’t know,” I stammer. “A few months?”
She tsks. “Poor thing.” Her hand lifts, fingertips grazing my chest. My shoulders tighten. “That’s far too long for a boy like you.”
Her hand lingers a second, then drifts lower, pressing just enough that I feel the heat of her palm through my shirt. “Jake told me about your situation, Boss. That you were sleeping in your car,” she says, her tone laced with pity. “That it’s the reason he offered you to stay with us for a while.”
I look down, shame creeping in. “Yeah, I’m… trying to save up for a place.”
She cocks her head to the side. “That can’t be easy. You must be exhausted. All that work, all that stress, and no place to really land.”
Her hand slips lower, brushing along my ribs, toward my hip.
“I can help,” she murmurs. “I have money. More than I know what to do with.”
Something in me locks up.
She steps in closer, her chest brushing against me, perfume too sweet in my nose.
Her voice dips again, almost teasing. “Have you ever been with someone my age, Boston?”
I shake my head slightly.
“That’s a shame.” Her hand glides to the front of my jeans, resting there like she has every right.
“Why don’t you come to my room tonight? I’ll make it worth your while,” she whispers, giving me a gentle squeeze.
Just enough to remind me that I’m standing here in nothing but skin and bone and desperation.
“I promise, I’ll make sure your body is… thoroughly appreciated,” she whispers. “How does five hundred sound?”
Her words slam into me, blunt as a baseball bat.
Five hundred dollars. Clean. Fuck.
That’s a week of work. Food. A dent in the deposit for an apartment. A step closer to Cassie and Bronx.
I don’t know what to say. I just stand there, my mind spinning in a dozen directions. Confusion. Survival. Shame.
She rises onto her toes and leans in, her lips grazing my ear. “You don’t have to decide now. Just think about it.”
Then, with a final squeeze, she plucks her phone from the counter and walks out of the kitchen.
I stand there, shell-shocked, the water still in my hand.
Did that really just happen?
It’s midnight when Pacey decides to take a less-than-sober Jonathan home, while Lily offers Jake’s date a ride. Guess Jake’s not interested enough to seal the deal tonight.
“We’re gonna head out, too,” Archer announces loudly, making the decision for Skye without so much as looking at her. “I’m gonna use the bathroom and then we can leave,” he tells her. Skye nods sweetly.
“Any chance I’ll see you before next Tuesday?” she asks me, a contagious smile on her lips.
I grin. “I’m working at AJ’s tomorrow night. If you guys stop by, I’ll come say hey.”
And now I’ll probably get my hopes up that I’ll get to see her tomorrow.
Great.
Her smile widens, soft and bright, and for a second, I almost forget we’re not alone.
“Skye,” Archer snaps from down the hall. “Let’s go.”
She nods, then leans down and hugs me.
I inhale her—the scent of strawberries and spring wrapping around me—exactly how I remember, except even more intoxicating.
But I don’t get to keep her for long. She startles like I zapped her with electricity, then straightens, a blush blooming across her cheeks. “See you later, Boss.”
I nod, watching her spin around, auburn hair swishing with the motion. She walks out past Archer, who just glares at me, then slams the door shut behind them.
Jake chuckles from the sofa across from me. “Don’t do it, man.”
I tear my gaze from the door. “Huh?”
“Don’t do it,” he repeats.
I frown. “Don’t do what?”
“Skye,” Jake says, deadpan.
My frown deepens. “What are you talking about?”
He leans back, arms stretched across the cushions like he’s just enjoying the show. “Dude, you may have been gone two years, but the look on your face when you see her? Still the same.”
“What look?”
He smirks like a smug little shit. “That look like you’re fighting a whole damn war not to kiss her.”
I shake my head. “You’re full of shit.”
He just laughs. “Boss, you’re my best fucking friend. You think I didn’t know you had a thing for Skye back then? Come on.”
I don’t say anything, maintaining a poker face.
“I don’t know why you never made a move, but I’m telling you: don’t go there now. Get her out of your head. Archer’s a loose cannon.”
“What do you mean?”
He shifts on the couch, his grin fading a little.
“He’s… weird about her. Possessive. Sometimes a little too much, in my opinion.
” He rubs the back of his neck. “After you left, he beat the shit out of some sophomore who supposedly had a thing for Skye. Thought the guy was trying something and just snapped. His dad had to have a come-to-jesus with the superintendent so Archer could still walk at graduation.”
My eyebrows lift.
“He has this… macho rage thing, you know? Acts like Skye’s his property.”
I shake my head. “Why the fuck are you guys even friends with him? He’s such an entitled asshole.”
Jake winces. “I don’t know, man. He just kind of happened, I guess.” He shrugs. “We played soccer together. Our moms are always hanging out. He and Skye obviously got together. Same circles and all.”
I nod.
Jake stands, stretching. “Alright. I’m calling it. But seriously: don’t run away again!”
I chuckle. “Man, how often are you going to tell me this?”
Jake shrugs. “Until I believe you won’t.”
He disappears down the hallway toward his room.
I sit there a while, thinking about Skye. About the way Archer touches her like she belongs to him. The way his social media posts always call her his girl, but never once mention her accomplishments.
Archer’s feed is all about himself. Skye’s success only ever shows up when it reflects back on him.
But Jake’s right. I can’t go there.
Not tonight. Or ever.
I head to the bathroom for a quick shower.
Hot showers before bed? Absolutely glorious.
But the second I turn on the water, my phone starts buzzing. I reach for it and immediately frown at the number: Cassie and Bronx’s foster parents.
“Hello?”
“Boss?” Cassie’s voice comes through. I can tell she’s crying.
My stomach bottoms out. “What happened?”
It takes her a second to catch her breath. “Mr. Dan had a heart attack yesterday and now Bronx and I have to move homes again.” She starts to sob in earnest.
“Oh, Cass,” I breathe, deflating.
“Boss, can you come get us, please?” she whimpers.
“I’m working on it,” I say quietly.
“How much longer is it going to take?” She sniffles. “I don’t want to go to a new place. I want to be with you.”
I close my eyes, her broken sobs slicing me open.
“Cass, I promise I’m working as fast as I can. I’ll call the caseworker tomorrow and I’ll find out where you’re placed.”
“Okay,” she whispers.