Chapter 29
Jacks
Tuesday night at Barbacks was steady but not slammed.
It was the kind of night where we had a good flow of customers, with regulars nursing their usual drinks, an older couple celebrating an anniversary in the corner booth, and a group of college kids playing pool and getting louder with each round.
It was constant, but nothing that required the full-court press of a game night or weekend rush.
I was restocking the beer coolers when my phone buzzed against my hip.
PuckingSkylerShaw: Free to talk for a sec?
I glanced around.
Finn was wiping down tables.
Benji was charming a group of office workers who’d come straight from happy hour somewhere else.
The anniversary couple was settled and content.
Me: Give me two minutes.
I caught Finn’s eye and pointed toward the back hallway. He nodded, understanding the universal bar language for “personal call, be right back.”
My phone rang as I stepped into the relative quiet of the back hallway.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey.” His voice was bright, almost buzzing with energy. “So, I talked to Erik.”
“Yeah? How’d that go?”
“Better than I could have imagined.” The words tumbled out fast, like he couldn’t contain them. “Jacks, he totally knew. Tyler was right. He’s been putting pieces together since Calgary.”
“And?”
“He hugged me.” The wonder in Skyler’s voice was audible. “Erik Lindqvist grabbed me with the biggest hands in human history, pulled me into his mountainous chest, and hugged me in the middle of a parking garage. Then he told me he was proud of me for being brave enough to be honest.”
My cheeks pinched from the smile parting my lips. “That’s amazing, Sky.”
“He said Linnea’s going to love you because you make me happy, and anyone who makes me happy is family.” Skyler’s laugh was shaky with emotion. “Family, Jacks. He called you family before he’s even met you.”
“I might cry.”
“I already did. Twice. In the parking garage. Then again before I called. I’m becoming the guy who has emotional breakdowns in concrete structures.”
I laughed. “Could be worse places, I guess.”
“At least parking garages have good acoustics for sobbing.” He paused. “I feel like I could take on the world right now. Tyler and Erik, they made it all seem so simple, like this is just another part of who I am, not some earth-shattering revelation.”
“Because it is simple. To the people who matter, it’s you being happy.”
“Exactly.” His voice gained momentum again. “Which is why I want to tell everyone: my parents, the team, the front office—”
“Sky.” I kept my tone gentle. “Remember what we talked about? About pacing yourself and building your support system first.”
He was quiet for a moment, and I could almost hear the air whooshing out of the balloon. That hadn’t been my intention, but it was necessary.
“You’re right,” he said. “I know you’re right. I’m so . . . God, I feel like I’m buzzing, like I could run a marathon or bench-press a car.”
“Channel that energy into something productive. Call your parents. They should hear it from you before anyone else.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” He took a breath. “Will you help me figure out the timing for everything else? When I’m ready to go bigger?”
“Of course. We’ll do it together if you want, but only when you’re sure. This isn’t something you can say and take back.”
“Okay. I’ll let you get back to work. See you at the game tomorrow?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
After we hung up, I stood in the hallway for a moment, grinning like an idiot. Two teammates down, and both had been everything Skyler needed them to be. Maybe this would be easier than I’d feared.
I made my way back to the bar, slipping behind the counter to continue restocking. The evening flow swirled around me. Orders were taken, drinks were poured, and conversations hummed over the background music.
It was the normal Tuesday night rhythm.
About thirty minutes later, the front door opened, and I looked up to greet the new customer.
Skyler walked in.
But he didn’t walk in. He practically bounced through the doorway.
He moved through the space with the kinetic energy of someone who’d scaled Mount Everest and was still processing the reality of it. His eyes found mine, and that puppyish smile spread across his face like a sunrise painting the whole damn sky.
He made a beeline for the bar and slid onto his usual stool at the end.
“Hey,” he said.
Before I could respond, Benji materialized beside me like he’d been launched from a cannon.
“Well, well, well,” Benji said, propping his elbows on the bar and grinning at Skyler with unholy glee. “Look who couldn’t stay away. Miss us already, my tasty little lightning bolt?”
“I was in the neighborhood,” Skyler said, which was a lie since we were nowhere near his neighborhood. Notably, he didn’t so much as flinch at Benji’s taunt. He usually crawled under the barstool.
“Uh-huh, and I’m sure it has nothing to do with our dear Jacks here.” Benji’s grin widened. “You know, it’s funny. Ever since you started coming around, Jacks has been . . . different.”
“Benji,” I warned, my voice close to a growl.
“Different how?” Skyler asked, curiosity winning over caution.
“Oh, where do I begin? He smiles at his phone. He hums while he works. Yesterday I caught him staring off into space with this Disney-esque expression while washing glasses.” Benji clasped his hands to his chest. “It’s like watching a princess discover love at a bazaar.”
My face was on fire. “I don’t hum.”
“You hummed ‘Can’t Help Myself’ for twenty minutes straight last Thursday.”
“That song was stuck in my head.”
“Because you were thinking about someone who makes you feel like you can’t help yourself, perhaps?” Benji waggled his eyebrows at Skyler. “This is what you’ve done to our stoic, emotionally unavailable barback. You’ve turned him into a romantic comedy.”
Skyler was grinning so wide my cheeks ached. “Is that right?”
“Don’t encourage him,” I muttered.
“Oh, but there’s more!” Benji was just getting started. “He bought new cologne. And not any cologne—expensive cologne, the kind that says, ‘I’m trying to impress someone.’ He also started doing push-ups in the back office during slow periods.”
“I did not—”
“Finn caught you. We have a witness.”
Skyler turned to me, eyes bright with mischief. “Push-ups in the back office?”
“It was one time. I was bored.”
“And yesterday,” Benji continued relentlessly, “he spent fifteen minutes arranging the garnishes in perfect little rows. Fifteen minutes. For limes and cherries. Like he was expecting a very important inspection from someone with extremely high fruit standards.”
“The garnishes were messy—”
“They were fine, but suddenly they needed to be perfect.” Benji leaned closer to Skyler, dropping his voice to a stage whisper. “And don’t even get me started on the hair.”
“What about the hair?” Skyler asked, clearly delighted.
“He’s been using product, actual styling product. Our beautiful, naturally curly-haired boy has been taming his locks with pomade or mousse or whatever it is you people use to make hair obey physics.”
I ran a hand through said hair, which had indeed been the victim of recent styling attempts. “It’s a little gel—”
“AHA!” Benji pointed triumphantly. “He admits it! Gel! For a man who hasn’t used anything stronger than shampoo in the years I’ve known him!”
Skyler burst out laughing. “Anything else?”
“Oh, I’m just getting warmed up. He’s been—”
“Benjamin.” Finn’s voice cut across the bar like a blade through butter. “Kitchen. Now.”
Benji’s shoulders slumped. “But I was getting to the good part about the cologne shopping trip.”
“There was no cologne shopping trip,” I said.
“There absolutely was. Macy’s. Last Wednesday. You came back smelling like a department store sample counter.”
“Kitchen,” Finn repeated, his tone suggesting this was not a request.
Benji sighed but pushed away from the bar. “Fine, but this conversation is not over. I have lots more stories.” He pointed at Skyler, then at me, then back at Skyler. “Stories that will make your pretty little head spin.”
He disappeared toward the kitchen, leaving blessed silence in his wake.
“Sorry,” I said to Skyler, who was still grinning. “He’s . . . a lot.”
“He might be more entertaining than Murph, and that’s saying a lot.” He took a sip of whatever concoction Benji had shoved toward him, lifted both brows, then slid the glass a few inches away. “And apparently you’ve been doing push-ups for me?”
“It was one time. I barely did a full set.”
“And buying cologne.”
“I ran out of my old stuff.”
“At Macy’s on a special shopping trip.”
I grabbed a bar towel and started wiping down the already-clean surface in front of him. “Can we please talk about anything else?”
“So,” he said, settling onto his stool. “How much of what Benji said was true?”
“Legally, I can’t comment on ongoing investigations.”
“That’s not a denial.”
“That’s not a confirmation either.”
Skyler laughed, that bright sound that made half the bar turn to look at us. “You’re adorable when you’re flustered.”
“I’m not flustered. I’m professionally mortified. There’s a difference.”
“By your friend pointing out that you care about me enough to buy new cologne?”
When he put it like that, it sounded a lot less mortifying. “Fine. I may be a little flustered.”
“Good. I like you flustered.” He leaned forward. “For the record, you do smell amazing. Whatever cologne you bought, it was worth the embarrassment.”
Something flickered to life in my chest. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, and the hair thing is cute, even though I prefer the curls wild.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You’d better.” He grinned. “Now, can I get a Coke? This thing Benji gave me is good, but I’m too wired for alcohol. I might spontaneously combust.”
I grabbed a glass and started filling it with ice, grateful for a task that didn’t involve direct eye contact. “So the Erik conversation went well, I take it?”
“Better than well. Perfect. It was perfect.” And he launched into the story again, with even more details than he’d shared on the phone.
The careful questions that had led to his confession.
The immediate, crushing hug that had nearly brought them both to tears.
The promise that Linnea would love me because I made Skyler happy.
“That’s Erik. When he decides you’re in, you’re in. There are no conditions and no probationary period.” Skyler took a sip of his Coke. “I feel like I’ve been holding my breath forever, and I can finally exhale.”
“And now you want to tell everyone.”
“I want to tell the world.” His eyes lit up with that manic energy again. “But you’re right about pacing myself. Tyler and Erik, then my parents. Then . . .” He shrugged. “We’ll figure out the rest.”
“Together.”
“Together.”