Chapter 10 Skylar #2
“Nah. We need to sell this.” He closes the space between us until our hips are aligned, and raises one arm up for me to slide under.
I hesitate, already burning from the way we’re now connected.
“That’s it,” he coaxes as I finally settle into his shoulder.
He leans his head against mine. And oh, he’s nice and warm.
Body heat is good. Body heat is great. “Smile like you’re into me. ”
“You first, buddy.”
Pike laughs, showcasing another megawatt smile, but he settles on a sexy look with closed lips: comfy, sated, and sleepy. My toes curl. If he’s able to turn on this level of magnetism when he feels like it, what Emy said about his reputation makes sense.
I nuzzle more into his shoulder, going for in love but shy. After all, it’s still early in our supposed relationship. The flash goes off, and as I blink, he lets go of me.
“Let’s see.” His head settles back against mine as he shows me the picture. And there we are. In bed. Together. Between his naked shoulders and my tangled hair, it looks like we just had amazing sex.
“That’s pretty good,” I choke out.
“If I woke up hungover tomorrow without any recollection, I’d buy it.” He winks at me, and my soul tries to leave my body.
I lean closer for another look. Really, I want him to stay where he is because the heat radiating off his body is glorious. “It’s too intimate for your mom.”
“You’re right,” he says on a sigh. “I guess we’ll have to take more tomorrow when we’re dressed.”
“Pike,” I say after the show ends. “In all seriousness, is something going on between you and Maria?”
An amused smile twists his lips. “No.”
“Really? Because if I was, you know, sexting someone, I’d be hurt if he was in bed with another woman, regardless of intent.”
He rolls to his side to face me, and the glorious heat disappears. Our knees touch, but he doesn’t flinch back this time. “We’re not sexting.”
“Flirting?”
“Nope.”
“But you said…if it’s not platonic…you could tell your mom you’re over me. Then I’m off the hook for the second date too.”
“Nothing’s happening with Maria. Sorry, you’re stuck with me.”
Getting stranded here isn’t enough? Ugh.
He moves a curl off my face. “Are you warm enough?”
“Getting there.”
“Any frostbite?”
Is he offering to look? “Don’t think so. You?”
“My body is on fire. I’m waiting for my oxy to kick in.”
“You had extra medicine?”
“I once got stuck in stopped traffic on I-90. Vowed never to get caught without my meds again. You don’t have anything in your purse?”
“I only took what I needed for dinnertime. No idea how I’m going to fall asleep.”
His eyes fill with concern. “I’m sorry I’ve caused you extra pain.”
I grumble something incoherent. It’s hard to be mad at him when he’s looking at me like that.
“So you do like game shows,” he says. “But the part about getting along with your family…that was a lie, wasn’t it?”
“You caught me.”
“You mentioned something about them sucking before. Why’s that?”
I open my mouth to answer. Close it again. “You keep trying to pretend everything’s great in your life. Why’s that?”
This close to him, I see the spark of defiance in his pupils, like he can’t believe I called him out on his bullshit. He swallows before he answers.
“Next question.”
So it’s going to be like that. “If I looked into your reputation with women, what would it tell me?”
“That I like to party. That I have a different bunny every night. That I’m a womanizer.” He says it like he’s reading from one of the articles Emy sent me.
“Are you?”
“If I was, I’m not anymore.”
“Anything else you want to tell me before I google you thoroughly? Because I will.”
He props his head up with his fist. “There was this one time I was on a masked singing show. I had to dress up like a polar bear, and the judges guessed who I was based on my voice, which is awful, so I got booted off first. It’s pretty embarrassing.”
Of all the things he could tell me. “That’s it? You can’t sing? No skeletons?”
“If you dig hard enough, you’ll find shit on anyone. My crew rode hard and partied hard.”
So far, he hasn’t mentioned any of his friends besides his roommate. “What happened with your crew? After your accident?”
“They were there, in the beginning. We were a tight group. Pro snowboarding in general is like one big family. But our paths diverged. It might’ve been different if I hadn’t come back here.”
“For rehab?”
“To get help from my mom. I lived with her in the beginning while I got back on my feet.”
My level of respect for Laurie goes up. Emy lives with her parents too.
I asked mine if I could move back in with them when I lost my job after the first year of failed lumbar punctures and medication.
They told me I was an adult now, and adults don’t live with their parents.
In hindsight, I’m relieved I’m not stuck there.
I’d have an even worse power dynamic with them than I already do.
“Do you call your snowboarding friends to talk?” I ask.
“We’d usually get together to do something, like have a beer or board. It’s weird now, living different lives, trying to start up regular phone calls.”
“That’s so sad. I’m sorry.” I thought if something big and visible happened, your friends would be there for you. When I lost my friends, it was invisible and gradual.
“It’s fine. I’m having lunch tomorrow with a childhood friend. If we ever get out of here.” His breath tickles my neck. “Your turn. Do you really have a brother?”
“Yes. Devlin lives in New York City, and we talk, like, once a month, max. And by ‘talk’ I mean we essentially make sure the other person is still alive, then hang up. I do love my niece, Jasmine, though. Just hard with my head to be around a hyper child.”
“And your parents?”
“We have a toxic relationship. They have different ideas about how I should treat my IIH. Since I don’t agree with their approach, they think it can’t really be that bad. They like to tell me I’m too negative.”
“Ah.” A grimace brackets his mouth. “No wonder you related to my poem.”
“I was born relating. Even as a kid, my mom’s favorite idiom was always ‘Rise and shine!’ She’s into toxic positivity culture.
It’s only gotten worse with my IIH. If I’m sick, I’m not trying hard enough.
If I improve, maybe I was faking all along.
If I’m honest about how things are going, I have an attitude problem.
So, yeah. Rise and fucking shine,” I grumble.
“Is it worth keeping the relationship, then?”
“Being sick is difficult when you’re alone. Sometimes I need someone to accompany me to an appointment, like if I have sedation, because hospitals don’t let you take a cab. That person is usually Mom, so I need to preserve the limited relationship we have.”
Pike’s whole face scrunches up. “I guess that answers my original question. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.” Oh no, I sound like Pike. “I mean. It’s not. But I’m used to it.”
“An observation. You don’t seem negative.”
“You told me to act like everything’s great in front of your mom. I nixed most of the complaining about IIH.”
“Complaining isn’t the same as stating your reality. But that’s not what I mean. You seem good. Not with pain. I understand IIH is awful. But it seems like you’ve figured out your life despite what it’s thrown at you.”
That’s the first time anyone has said anything like that to me. “Things are tolerable because I carve out space for self-care and listen to my body. I don’t have to answer to anyone but myself.”
“That sounds independent. Maybe a little lonely too.”
I bristle. I am alone, but that’s different from being lonely. “I have my friends. The support group.”
“I’m glad.” Pike spreads out onto his back and tucks a hand under his pillow. A tingle rushes through me when his warm thigh settles against mine.
I keep my focus on the ceiling. “I’m sorry about your family too.”
“My family’s fine.”
“Right, you can totally be yourself around your mom. That’s why we’re in this mess together.”
“We’re in this mess because of you.”
“I—”
The TV goes out. We’re plunged into blackness. A thump comes from downstairs. I throw myself at Pike.
“Is that David? Is he coming up here?”
My tinnitus ratchets up along with my pulse when the stairs creak under footsteps. Pike tenses.
“We’re going to be okay,” he whispers.
Three quick knocks on the door. “We lost power.” Is it just me or does David sound suspiciously pleased? “There are extra blankets in the closet. I can show you.”
I clap a hand over Pike’s mouth. “If you open that door, this deal is off. I’m only wearing a thong under your shirt.”
A strangled sound escapes his throat. He nods, and I remove my hand.
“We’re good, thanks,” he calls hoarsely.
David retreats. I wait, listening for the sound of his footsteps to fade completely. A tense silence settles over the room.
“Skylar?”
My attention snaps back to Pike. “Yes?”
“You’re…” He hesitates, his breath warm on my face. “Close.”
Heat rises to my cheeks as I become hyperaware of the proximity between us. Pike’s legs have tangled with mine. My shirt has ridden up over my butt in the commotion. His hand is on my back. Mine are on his chest.
“Much as I’m enjoying the warmth…” There’s an unmistakable edge to his voice.
I jolt back over to my side. “Sorry.”
“Do you want me to get an extra blanket?”
“I can get one.”
“In your thong?”
His rough tone kindles a flame in my stomach that should definitely not be there. Nope. This is fake, and he just asked me to move off him.
“Right. You go.”
He retrieves the blankets, then settles back onto his side, no longer facing me. “Good night,” he says.
I wish he weren’t ready to go to sleep. It’s only midnight. It’s unbearably quiet. I have at least another two hours before I get tired enough to even think about sleeping. And that’s with a sleeping pill, which I don’t have. My phone’s almost dead.
“Pike? If the power doesn’t come back on…if it gets really cold while I’m asleep…” I swallow. “I might gravitate toward heat. Toward you. It’s nothing…intentional.”
He grunts softly. “I move while I sleep either way.”
“Oh?” There may be unintentional spooning after all, then. That wouldn’t be the worst development. “Understood.”
I try to focus on the sound of his breathing. Anything to distract me from the screeching in my own ears. I wish I had anything related to my nighttime routine.
“Good night,” I whisper.