24. Skylar
SKYLAR
We don’t talk again that night. Or the day after that.
By the time the weekend rolls around, Declan and I have perfected a mutual silent treatment.
It helps that I can drive myself to work and physical therapy, so I haven’t had to deal with awkward car rides, but now it’s Saturday night and he’s out God knows where.
I swear, if he’s at that stupid bar getting his ass kicked, I’m going to lose it.
He left about an hour ago with no explanation, leaving behind only the sound of the door clicking shut and the fading rumble of his motorcycle.
I think he might be trying to give me space, while I’m simply being petty because he’s pissing me off.
Either way, I’m done pacing back and forth in this kitchen, looking from the floor where we almost kissed to the counter where he’s buried his head between my legs on multiple occasions.
It’s almost ten o’clock, but the night is not nearly over.
With my decision made, I run back up to my room to grab my phone and see three missed calls and a few texts from Amelia.
Amelia: Hey Sky. Sorry to bother you. I’m at a party and my ex is here.
Amelia: He’s making me uncomfortable.
Amelia: Do you think you could come get me?
My heart sinks. Amelia confided in me that she was having issues with her ex when she was here for dinner last weekend.
She ended it when he proposed to her because she felt their relationship was moving too fast, but he keeps showing up wherever she is.
I check the time stamps, and thankfully the texts were only sent a few minutes ago.
I message her back, asking for the address, and she responds immediately.
I know better than to show up to a college party by myself, so I shoot a text to Allie, who is already texting back asking what kind of trouble we're getting into and whose balls she has to surgically remove.
As soon as she stops detailing all of the ways she’s going to do exactly that, she lets me know she’ll pick me up in ten minutes.
The house is off-campus, and if the Greek letters and front lawn littered with empty bottles and underwear are any indication, I would say it’s a frat house. Not what I had envisioned for my evening, but I would do anything for Amie, especially if she’s being harassed by her slimy ex.
“Don’t worry, I got this,” Allie says as she gets out of the car. “Follow my lead.”
“I’ve been to a college party before,” I tell her.
She looks me up and down. “Of course you have.”
Allie grabs my hand and pulls me through the front door where we’re immediately hit by the scent of weed and stale beer, a thick haze of sweat and sex hovering in the air.
Music booms from speakers, rattling the makeshift dance floor.
People are dancing, swaying their bodies, grinding to the beat, completely oblivious to the crowd.
There’s a couch off to the side where a couple is dry humping—or maybe it isn't just dry. We weave through the sweaty crowd until we get to the back where there are several tables set up for beer pong. That’s when I spot Amelia.
She seems fine. More than fine, actually.
She’s hopping up and down, clapping her hands like she just sunk a shot.
Her partner, a taller girl with wavy brown hair, scoops her up in a hug and they giggle as they almost fall over.
“Doesn’t look like she’s in distress,” Allie observes.
I sigh. “Come on.”
Amelia notices me and squeals, running over to give me a hug with so much force that she almost knocks me over. “Sky, you came!”
“Of course I did,” I whisper, gently patting the back of her dark hair. It’s the same color as Declan’s used to be.
When she pulls back, there’s a slight build-up of moisture in her eyes. “He left. Emily scared him off.”
Her beer pong partner, who I assume is Emily, walks over and brushes her long hair behind her back. She gives us a sharp look and says, “Nobody messes with my girl.”
I smile her way, and Allie gives her a nod of approval.
“I’m glad he left, but we should get you home, Ames.”
She pouts. “C’mon, Skysky. Play with us,” she slurs. “One game. Kev needs a new partner. Poor guy had to carry the team all last game.”
I glance over at the man in question who flashes me a lopsided smile before shaking his head, trying to brush blonde hair from his eyes and from under his backward baseball cap.
“That sounds…fun, but I’m a twenty-five-year-old woman. I don’t need to be playing beer pong with college students.”
“Speak for yourself,” Allie says as she walks over to the table. Then she turns to Emily. “I like you. Let’s show this frat boy how it’s done. Yeah?”
Emily narrows her eyes.“I thought you’d never ask.”
I blink, looking back at Amelia. “Your birthday is not for a few more weeks, Sky. Plus, Kev is a grad student. He’s twenty-three.” She winks as she brushes past me to help Allie, Emily, and…Kev set up the cups.
Only Amelia Astor would try to set me up with some guy at a frat party while I’m literally married to her brother. But then, she’s never been a rule-follower, which is why it’s so surprising that she agreed to date a guy her dad picked out for her.
Kev gives me a knowing glance, his blue eyes beckoning me over, as another wave of floppy blonde hair falls in his face.
Fuck it.
I take a page from Allie’s book and strut over to him, swiping the ping-pong ball from his hand.
“I’ll go first.” I take my aim, but glance back before I shoot.
“You’re drinking all the cups.” Someone needs to remain level-headed here, and I’ve already done my fair share of self-medicating lately. He nods like a freaking bobblehead.
Closing my left eye to get a better look, I aim, shoot, and sink the cup dead in the middle.
“Fuck yeah!” Kev looks both shocked and proud as he raises his hand in the air.
I really want to call him Kevin because I don’t feel like we’re on a nickname basis yet, but what if his name isn’t actually Kevin?
What if it’s Kevith or something? In the end, I decide to not call him anything and give him the high-five he’s waiting for.
I’m good at beer pong, damn good, but so are Emily and Allie, and Kev for that matter, although his talents wane the more cups he has to drink on our behalf. He also gets braver, opting for a hug instead of a high-five when I sink the second-to-last cup.
When we’re finally down to one cup on each side, Allie glares at me like she has a personal vendetta. It’s my turn and I know she’s going to try some ridiculous distraction technique, so I don’t even bat an eye when she looks behind me and fake gasps.
“Oh, shit,” she says, trying to rattle me, but it’s not going to work.
I bring the ball up, rotating it slightly between my thumb and forefinger. Kev puts his arm around my shoulder. “You got this, kid. Don’t let them get to you.”
I roll my eyes at his dramatics and start to take the shot when Emily lets out a low whistle. “Who brought the scary Daddies?”
I’m not sure why that makes me turn around, but I do and am immediately faced with Ashton, who looks both amused and slightly concerned, and Declan, who’s shooting homicidal daggers at Kev’s arm, still wrapped around my shoulder.
Without losing eye contact, he walks over, turning his attention to Kev before simply saying, “Remove your arm from my wife.”
Kev looks at Declan, then back at me, his eyes wide, before he slowly drops his arm to his side.
“Ash, take my sister home,” Declan demands.
Amelia emerges sheepishly from her perch on a nearby chair, beer in hand. “I’m good, Dec. I can—”
Declan levels her with a glare, and she holds her hands up. “A ride would be great, thanks.”
Ashton shakes his head, rubbing the side of his face as he looks in the direction of his wife. “Come on, Chaos.”
Her face resembles that emoji with all the teeth showing. “Yeah, I…um think this night has officially run its course.”
I don’t see what else happens because all of a sudden Declan is inches away from me, so close I can feel his heart beating hard against his ribs. His mouth brushes against my ear, his breath hot. “Can we talk?”
Dropping the ball on the table, I cross my arms.“I don’t have anything to say to you.”
He makes a sound, something between a scoff and a laugh. “It wasn’t a question. Do you want to do it here in front of your new friend or find somewhere private?”
Huffing out a frustrated breath, I head for the staircase. He’s following me, of course, I know he’s following me, and I wish it made me angrier, but if anything, it makes heat pool between my thighs.
Stupid, traitorous vagina can’t stay in her damn lane.
Judging by the line in front of it, I assume the door to my left is a bathroom, but I keep stalking down the hall. There has to be another one.
Finally, I find a door hidden around the curve of the hallway and feel a flood of relief when I shove it open and find no one inside. Declan’s right behind me, but I don’t slam the door in his face because what’s the point? He closes it behind us, gently.
“You want to explain what the fuck that was?” he finally snaps.
“I was helping your sister, Declan. She felt uncomfortable, so I came to give her a ride home.”
He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “You were helping my sister?”
“That’s what I said.”
He takes a step forward. “By playing beer pong with some douchebag frat boy?”
“Kev is actually really nice,” I say sweetly. “He’s a grad student.”
Declan stares at me for at least five full seconds, completely unblinking. “Kev?”
“Yeah.”
He turns around, rubbing the flat of his palm over his forehead. “You’re on a nickname basis with the guy?” he asks, but it’s less of a question and more of a growl.
He crosses over to the yellow sink, bracing his hands on either side. It has a crack running all the way down to the drain, where there’s a build-up of something white and sticky that I hope to God is toothpaste. “Jesus, Skylar, you’re gonna kill me.”