15. Kit
15
KIT
I squeezed my eyes tight against the brightness as I registered a weight on my chest. Had Reed come in to sleep with me? It had been a long time since he’d had a nightmare, but I didn’t mind.
Seriously, though, what was up with the sun? Had I overslept? I went to ruffle Reed’s hair, hoping to wake him gently, but the texture was wrong.
My eyes flew open and the unfamiliar ceiling above jogged my memory.
That’s not Reed lying against me. That’s Sky. And we . . . Oh God.
We did naked things .
I’d kissed him in front of the cabin, mostly because I didn’t think I could’ve imagined holding off another second. And he kissed me back, just as passionate, just as into it as I was. But it didn’t stop there.
Wanna come inside?
Yes . Yes, I had wanted to come inside. Where we kissed and did very, very naked things with each other.
I came in his mouth.
Cyn had never liked that, so I had never come in anyone’s mouth before. It was . . . life changing.
Moving slowly, I looked down, and my heart started racing. Skylar’s head was on my chest. And he was so goddamned beautiful. Even as he slept, he clung to me like he . . . what? Needed me?
Did he need me?
A queasy sort of reality dawned, and my stomach clenched, hard. I . . . fuck. I was instantly swamped with thoughts of the ranch. And the vacation rentals. And my son’s physical, speech, and mental wellness therapy schedules. My ex and her wife. My mom and dad with their various health issues. The animals. My knee. The accounting. And now this.
How did I fit this in with everything else?
Was I gay now?
Bi? Pan?
Did it count if he was so femme I’d had to ask for his pronouns?
The horses, the exotics, the guests, the employees . . .
Sky’s head on my chest suddenly felt like a stone crushing my lungs. I was spiraling, and, and . . . Oh, God. I’d made him come by my hand. I’d imagined doing so much more.
I wasn’t religious or nothin’, but what in God’s name was I thinking?
What would our friends say? Why was I breathin’ so fuckin’ loud?
I told Luke how I felt about Skylar. He knows about me.
Why the fuck did I tell Luke anything?
I looked around for my phone. I needed to message him. Tell him to keep his damn mouth shut.
You can trust Luke. He’s quiet like you.
Unable to listen to even my own reason, I inched out from under Skylar, sucking in a breath the second I was free. Sitting on the side of the bed, my feet planted like concrete blocks on the floor, I curled over, trying like the devil to not hyperventilate.
Skylar murmured in his sleep, and I stiffened, sneaking a look over my shoulder. He rearranged himself and fell straight back to sleep. A nice trick if you can do it.
I swung my head around, taking in everything. Our clothes were strewn everywhere. Anyone could walk in and guess what we’d gotten up to. I rose, dizzy. Picking up my jeans, I put them on and patted my pockets, finding my phone. That simple movement was enough to have me grabbing a chair so I wouldn’t fall over.
As soon as I was able, I stumbled into the bathroom, avoiding the mirror as I took care of business, then washed my hands and face. I stared into the sink for a full minute before I finally had the courage to look at myself.
I was haggard and some shade of green I ain’t ever seen before. It was still me, though. I just didn’t feel like I was in my body. What the hell did that even mean?
I wondered what Skylar and Sam had talked about when they went on their little tour of Rebel Sky. Had they talked about me?
I didn’t know all of Sam’s history, but I knew enough to know that there were some similarities. Did Skylar think I was his sugar daddy now? Was he going to ask me for money?
No, stop it.
That’s not him.
Stop freaking out.
I let out a dry, nauseated laugh.
The thing people always appreciated about me, at least what they said out loud, was that I was measured. In control, always. Letting my actions do the talking for me. Exactly like a cowboy should be.
I stared once again into the abyss—the mirror, that is. My hair a mess, water dripping from my chin, my stomach roiling. I felt anything but measured, and I sure as hell wasn’t in control.
Unable to handle the lost look in my eyes, I turned around and set my butt against the edge of the sink. Slipping my phone out of my pocket, I found Luke’s number, the one he’d given me just this morning.
Me: I know I don’t have to say it, but can you make sure to keep our conversation to yourself?
Oh, God. I had gone right from that conversation to throwing myself at Skylar, hadn’t I? What must Sky think of me? He’d talked about hook-up apps. Was this only a hookup to him? Had I turned my entire world upside down for a hookup ?
Jesus. I leaned forward, barely catching myself up with my hands on my knees, mashing my phone against the aching joint.
The damn thing dinged, and I stood, so dizzy I had to lean my butt back against the sink.
Luke: Of course. As someone who was outed against my will, I can promise you I haven’t even told my husband.
Luke: Are you okay?
Pfft.
Me: No.
That was . . . fuck. That was probably too honest.
Luke: Do you want to talk?
Me: No.
Luke: Understood. I’m here for you when you’re ready.
Luke: It’s okay to freak out a little about admitting to someone else how you’re feeling.
Luke: But there’s nothing wrong with you. Promise.
I snorted, the breathless laugh sounding like it came from someone else.
Me: Gonna take your word for that.
I shoved my phone back into my pocket, hot embarrassment working its way up my chest and neck. I didn’t even know what to do with myself. Why had I opened my big mouth?
Because you trust Luke.
I felt like my brain was in the spin cycle. I was repeating everything, forgetting it, and then having to repeat it to myself all over again. Why wasn’t nothin’ stickin’ in my brain?
I didn’t know what to say to Skylar. I didn’t know what the hell he wanted from this.
Why was I freaking out? Nobody died. We didn’t do nothin’ bad. This was just some new information about myself. Right?
Meltdown protocol.
I slowed my breathing, inhaling deeply and holding it for a few seconds before letting it out. I repeated it until the desire to throw up went away, and my heart rate came down from the goddamn treetops.
You’re bein’ ridiculous, Baker.
A few more deep breaths for good measure, and I slipped out of the bathroom. Another long out breath as I stood at the foot of the bed. Skylar really was so beautiful, naked and twisted up in the sheets. I walked on unsteady ground to the little kitchenette area and grabbed a plastic cup out of the cabinet. Shaking out my hands, I turned on the faucet and filled the cup, drinking it down.
“Well, hey there, cowboy.” Skylar said, his voice sleepy.
I placed the cup in the sink and gripped the edge of the countertop for a ten count before turning around. I tried to grin, but his eyes told me I had failed.
His smile was so gentle. Too gentle.
“Freaking out a little bit, are we?”
I swear to God, I didn’t know where these goddamn tears were coming from. I turned back toward the sink. Wiped them away. “Maybe a little.”
“That’s okay,” he said, his voice that measured kind of steady you used with a psychiatric patient having a bad day. “A little gay panic never hurt no one.”
I huffed out another hollow laugh, glancing back over my shoulder. “Are you sayin’ this is so common it actually has a name?”
“Well . . . the gay panic defense was a strategy straight men used in the eighties and nineties to explain why they got scared and killed gay men. Sometimes after having slept with them. But, it’s been reclaimed, sorta.”
I opened my mouth, shocked. “That’s not?—”
“I know,” he said quickly. “Poor word choice. I’m teasing you because I bet you’re questioning your entire life right now.” His smile was encouraging. “ What does this mean? Who am I? ”
I took another shaky breath, and more tears spilled. Another sneak peek over my shoulder told me he wasn’t making fun of me. Not even a little.
“Come here,” he said as he wrapped the sheet around his waist and stood.
Like iron filings to a magnet, I padded over to him in my bare feet and half undone jeans, falling into his open arms like a little boy. Tucking my face up against his neck, I let out a shivering breath as more tears fell. His arms surrounded me with so much warmth.
“Hey now. Just remember . . . This is big, but also very normal. You’re probably gonna need a few days. And that’s totally fine.”
I laugh-snorted into his neck.
“It’s like I don’t even know who I am anymore,” I said, my voice all warbly. “Why am I so worked up about this? I never lose my cool about . . . anything . I’m supposed to be the even-keeled one.”
Sky rubbed my back. “Maybe you don’t always have to be the even-keeled one with me.”
I sniffed and pulled back enough to see his face. There was so much understanding it almost made me cry harder. “I am so fucking ridiculous.”
He shook his head. “You’re not ridiculous. You are amazing. You’re a great dad, a savvy businessman, and a good friend.”
Friend . Got it.
Shit.
I’d gone and made this a way big thing, and here he was calling me a friend.
What did you want him to call you? Boyfriend? God, you can’t even lose your cool properly.
I wiped my tears, shaking my head. I really was being ridiculous, and Skylar was being reasonable. He was being calm. So, I latched onto that calmness.
Here I was, all worried about him being too needy, and it was me who was clinging to him. He only ever said he was attracted to me, and I cringed as I remembered my conversation with Luke, talking about how I had fallen for Cynthia from the moment I met her, and how it was similar with Sky.
I’d gotten way, way ahead of myself.
“Here. Why don’t you take a coupla breaths with me,” he said, still holding me.
I followed his cues, inhaling. Exhaling. Repeating until my tears had dried up.
“Thank you.”
Skylar smiled, so sweet. “You’re welcome.”
He leaned in for a kiss, and I automatically followed suit. It took no conscious effort at all to kiss him. It was like my brain went off-line and my body took over. I didn’t hate it.
Maybe, if I sat with the idea of us for a few days and gave myself some space?—
“Bitch, weren’t we gonna go shopping?”
I spun around, and Rowdy stood there in the front door, his mouth open in shock.
“Shit, I forgot to lock the door,” Sky said, sounding so guilty. “I am so, so sorry.”
Rowdy, for his part, schooled his face quickly. I’d always thought he was a rather unserious kind of guy, but the understanding in his eyes—like maybe he’d spied the bald panic on my face—almost made me cry again.
“Um. I’m gonna go. I’ll talk to you later,” he said to Sky, carefully backing out the door and shutting it so, so softly.
Sky stood there, holding out his hands the same way I did with a startled horse.
“What do you need right now?” he asked, and his kindness twisted in my chest, painful and bright.
“I think I need to go home.”
He smiled, his eyes a little shiny. “I understand. You call me when you’re ready, okay?”
I nodded. The cabin was silent as I pulled on my socks and boots, then slid my shirt over my head. Finally, almost as an afterthought, I zipped up my pants and buttoned them. Who knows how much of me Rowdy had seen. I looked around and found my boxers, shoving them into my front pocket.
“Sorry I’m such a mess,” I whispered.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s gonna be all right.”
I fled the cabin and grabbed my hat from the Bronco’s hood, not sure if those were just pretty words, or if anything would ever make sense again.