19. Kit
19
KIT
I limped from the doctor’s office, feeling like I’d just wasted everyone’s time. To be honest, the MRI wasn’t that bad. But the results . . . Maybe I was foolish to think they wouldn’t find anything. Knowing I needed the surgery—and it didn’t matter how many pretty words the doctor used to describe it, it was surgery —felt like a failure. Or a betrayal, like this knee had it in for me.
Worse, I was sure if they looked at the other knee, they’d have seen the beginnings of whatever was getting me right now.
I didn’t know why I’d gotten so mad when Sky and Dr. Kleinfeld were just trying to help me. I owed Sky yet another apology, and it felt like I’d been apologizing to that man ever since I first kissed him.
The sun burned bright, so I put on my hat and shoved my hands into my pockets. I needed to text Sky and let him know I was done with Dr. Kleinfeld, but I also needed a few minutes to settle my soul.
I started off in a random direction and was practically up on top of him before I recognized what was happening. There was Skylar, looking all kinds of unhappy as he was being talked at by an older man. This ugly fuck then put his hands on him, and Sky said something to make him take a step back. Didn’t take long for me to guess that this was his last sugar daddy; I’d bet my ranch on it.
As I neared, the man’s words set a hard stone in my chest.
You’re clearly in crisis, Skylar. Don’t push me away.
The words did something to Sky’s face I never wanted to see again. I’d fucked up in the office, and, feeling like I had to make up for it, I walked up to them and put my arm around Skylar’s waist.
“Hey, darlin’. Who’s your friend here?” I asked, sliding into the drawl that made city folks sit up and pay attention.
Skylar stiffened against me, his eyes darting to mine. I’m sorry , I mouthed. He blinked, then melted against me like he had that day in the cabin.
“Oh, hey baby,” he said, putting on his brightest smile. “This is an old friend of mine. Rich? Meet Kit. Kit, Rich.”
This shitty, obviously wealthy man drew himself up as tall as he could to physically intimidate me. Hilariously, he was still a couple of inches shy, and I was not intimidated. “Who is this?” he blustered, giving me a red-faced glare. “Your newest sugar daddy? What? You’ve gone country and now you’re ignoring me?”
“Skylar doesn’t need a sugar daddy,” I answered, my voice level and even. “He’s a businessman, and a damned good one.”
The man scoffed. “He never looked this tired when he was with me. Do you not know how to take care of your man?”
“Starting a new venture is hard work,” I explained patiently, willing myself not to break this motherfucker’s jaw, “but I make sure he’s cared for in all the important ways.”
Even as I said the words, I felt the shame of their lie. I had not taken care of Skylar. In ways both important and small, I’d done the exact opposite. I’d freaked out, said all the wrong words, and then sniped at him when all he was trying to do was care for me.
Seeing how Rich had assumed he’d known what was good for Sky made me feel about three inches tall. Like a big mirror had been held up to my face, my stomach roiled as I realized I wasn’t much better than him.
But I would be.
I swore on all the important things in my life right then and there that I goddamn would be. And I would never put this look on Sky’s face ever again.
Sky cleared his throat, likely to remind me he didn’t need me to speak for him. I dipped my chin, letting him know I had his back. At least I hoped that was what he read from the gesture.
“Rich, as you can see, I am fine.” Sky then gestured to the dark circles under his eyes, which the makeup hadn’t quite covered. “A few sleepless nights to create my dream business is not too high a price to pay. The only thing that cost me more than it was worth was letting myself become your shareable little toy. Lose my number.”
Rich’s nostrils flared, and he looked down his nose at someone who was, objectively, better than him in every possible way. “Don’t come crawling back to me when you realize what you’re missing out on,” he said, turning on his heel and walking away.
We took off in the other direction, toward Betsy. The moment that jackass was out of sight, however, Skylar shook me off like a horse shakes a fly off its ass.
“I don’t need your guilty heroics, Kit. I was handling myself just fine before you showed up.”
“I’m sorry. I . . .” I pressed my lips together, thinking long and hard about the words I was using. “The way he looked at you, talked to you . . . I didn’t like it.”
Skylar tapped his chin with a pretty painted nail. “Oh, you mean how he was sending a bunch of mixed messages, trying to get me back while treating me like I was barely worth the effort? Dismissing my education while trying to get into my pants? Yeah, that does suck.”
Damn.
“Sky, I completely deserve your anger. I know I’m a mess, and I was awful to you and Dr. Kleinfeld right now in the office, and I apologize wholeheartedly,” I said, limping after him.
He turned on me, sticking his finger in my face. “Oh! You’re sorry . Are you sorry enough to have the surgery next month?”
“Sky, you know I can’t?—”
He held up his hand, stopping me cold. “I don’t wanna hear it, Kit Baker. I can’t believe I ever thought you were this steady, smart, reliable man. I mean, you look it, with your cowboy boots and your cowboy hat, and your general . . .” His gesture encompassed all that was me. “But you lost your entire sense of equilibrium after we traded a few simple orgasms. Worse, you embarrassed me in front of my boss, after I have spent all this time trying to impress her with how well I’m doing out there.”
Shit. Shit. Shit .
“Sky, I am so, so sorry. You are totally right.”
My words were interrupted by a notification on his phone. He peeked at the screen, cursed, and then shoved it in my face. “Look. This is what the fuck I am talking about.”
Unknown number: I’ve never seen you look worse. You need to dump him and come back to me. I can pay to restore your pretty face while you have a chance.
“He’s been doing this on and off since I blocked him.”
“How?” I asked, horrified. After that entire exchange, he was still trying to win Sky back while ripping him down to the studs. I’d never seen someone jerk another person around like that before.
“Pretty sure his company uses some kind of VoIP platform, so he has access to hundreds—thousands—of phone numbers. I stopped trying to block them.”
“I’m gonna kill him,” I said, looking back in the direction we left him. “We need to get you a new phone number.”
“Why should I have to get a new number? I’ve blocked everyone I wanted to block, and Rich has the means to find a new number, so why go through all of that bullshit? Besides, what will it do to my business to get a new number? Also, how’re you gonna kill him when you can’t even catch up to him? You got one of those fancy golf carts of yours in your pocket? What’s the plan here?”
I dropped my chin to my chest, called out.
“You see, Kit, I don’t need you to do anything for me. I don’t need you, period. Do you get that?” he asked as he shoved his phone into his expensive bag.
“I do.”
He started off again, then turned on his heel and got back up in my face.
“And I tell you what, Kit Baker. I am tired. Tired . Of men dismissing me, ignoring me, or thinking they know what’s best for me. I can’t fucking stand it a second longer.”
We arrived at Sky’s car right as he finished ripping me a well-deserved new one, and he yanked the door open.
“Do you want me to find my own ride home?” I asked, feeling about as low as I possibly could.
“Get in the fucking car, Kit. And shut the fuck up,” he said, angrily gesturing to the passenger side. “I don’t want to hear another word come out of your country-fried mouth, or I swear to God, I will leave you on the side of the goddamned road.”
Properly silenced, I gave him a sharp nod, then dropped—painfully—into the passenger side. I put on my seatbelt and kept my eyes forward as he shoved his bag into the back. He then slid into the driver seat with a huff, slammed the door, yanked his seatbelt across his lap, and turned on the car, gunning the engine.
“I swear to God, Kit Baker. Not one word.”
I said nothing, merely dropping my chin again to acknowledge his words.
He peeled away from the curb, tires squealing. Making quick work of downtown Austin, he hit the highway at speed, and as requested, I kept my mouth shut.
Traffic was a mix of too many cars on the road driven by far too many inattentive drivers, but Sky wove in and out with expert precision. His jaw was sharp as I had ever seen it, anger and tension radiating off him. Between me and that fucking sugar daddy, I couldn’t tell which of us had taken off Sky’s shine more, but I felt like a little schoolboy, scolded and ashamed of myself.
I wanted to open my mouth and apologize until he forgave me. I wanted to explain myself. I wanted to throw myself at his feet and beg for forgiveness. More than anything, I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and feel him wrap his arms around my waist. I wanted to hold him against the world. I wanted to never let him go. To show him in every way possible how much I wanted to support him so he would never, ever have to doubt me.
He’d done nothing but try to help me. He’d even listened to my good business advice and then implemented it in a way that made me so proud, I could barely stand it. He was smart, sexy, and he was making something of himself.
Here I was, worried about what it meant to be attracted to him, and he must’ve been terrified, starting over like that. Completely turning his life upside down so he could live it on his terms, and I couldn’t handle a little kissing and touching.
I thought about my friend, Trip. He didn’t know nothin’ about his sexuality before he’d met Sam. I’m sure he had a couple of moments of questioning himself, but never once in any of the stories he and Sam shared about their getting together had he ever doubted or freaked out or made Sam feel less than. Maybe, just as importantly, he hadn’t made himself feel less than, not the way I’d managed to.
My knee throbbed, as if it agreed with my lousy assessment of the situation. As if to say I’d finally fucking figured it out. By the time Skylar turned into the ranch drive, I knew what I had to do.
He rocked up to the front of my house and left the car running, staring out the windshield, no doubt waiting for me to exit the vehicle so he could launch me out of his life. But I couldn’t do that. If there was even the tiniest chance I could make this man smile at me again, I would take it.
“I am so sorry,” I said softly.
“I don’t wanna hear it, Kit.”
“I know my words don’t mean much right now.”
“I said, I don’t want to hear it.”
“I’ll do it,” I blurted out. “I’ll do the surgery.”
“Why, Kit?” His jaw clenched a little harder. “Why now?”
The question surprised me, and all I could think to do was tell him the truth. “Because you’re right. I need it. And, like you said, all of my fussing was disrespectful of your expertise. Not to mention the time you and Dr. Kleinfeld spent diagnosing the issue. I’m especially sorry I embarrassed you in front of your boss. I hadn’t realized how much I was acting like Rich back there,” I said, his name like shit in my mouth. “And I never, ever wanna be even in the same ballpark as a guy like that. Not ever again.”
Skylar didn’t respond, and I chanced a look in his direction. His eyes were brimming with tears, and I was gutted to see how badly I had messed up.
“Sky . . .”
He finally turned to me. The tears had breached their barricades and were tumbling down his cheeks.
“Do you have any idea how scary all of this is for me?” he asked, his voice choked off.
“I was just imagining how turning your entire life upside down couldn’t’ve come easy. And seeing the way he talked to you, I realized—late, I know—that you had to do all of those scary things with his awful words in your ear. You’re a hell of a lot stronger than I am.”
He sniffed, angrily wiping away a tear. “Don’t you be nice to me now, Kit Baker. Don’t fuck with my head.”
Ah, dammit.
“I’m not just being nice to you, Sky. I promise. This is me realizing how wrong I was. And, as much as I hate seeing you cry, I hate even worse that it’s my fault. I want to put my arms around you and promise to never freak out again.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“I know. I know, and so I’m sitting here, racking my brain, trying to figure out any way I can get you to forgive me.”
Sky gripped the steering wheel, letting his head fall between his arms. “Dammit, cowboy.”
At least he wasn’t first- and last-naming me.
“You know, I did some light reading on gay panic,” I said, hoping for a smile.
I was rewarded with a short laugh; a sound I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to earn again.
“The bad kind or the cute kind?” he asked, some of the brightness returning to his eyes.
“Both, sorta?”
“And what’d you learn?”
“That it’s possible to be brave, even when you’re scared out of your fucking mind. With everything I read—especially about the bad kind—I realized, even more than I had before, how brave you must be to go into the world exactly as you are. I panicked because I’m a coward, but I am trying not to be. And if you view me as your mentor in business, then I view you as the mentor in this area of my life.”
“You really are a little bitch,” he said, chuckling to himself.
“I can’t disagree with that.”
He sniffed, tilted his head to the side, taking me in. “You’re really going to get the surgery?”
“Yes.”
“You’ll forgive me for saying, ‘I’ll believe it when I see it,’ right?”
“Wouldn’t want it any other way, Sky.”