Chapter 43 Pike
Pike
The doorbell rings again, and I groan. My back aches from assembling a hammock with Luis, and my femur has opinions on all this humidity.
“I’ll get it this time,” Luis offers.
“Nope. Not your problem.”
My glutes fire with pain as I head inside. Three reporters have already stopped by. One even followed me to Skylar’s this morning. I had to circle a random block three times until a red light cut them off.
My new publicist says they’ll go away if I humor them. She issued a statement: I dropped off the journal, and we’ll update them with any news.
I throw open the door, but it’s not a reporter.
“Skylar?” I say, startled.
She’s here. Hugging my journal to her chest. Her freckled shoulders are bare, save for the tiny straps of her sundress, the fabric cinched at her waist before flaring over her tempting hips.
Black shades sweep her red curls off her face, and today her hazel eyes are bluer as they drift down to my bare torso, lingering on my V-cuts.
“Brandon,” she murmurs, her cheeks flushing. “You’re…”
“Shirtless?” I offer.
“Stop smirking.”
I grin. “Am I?” I love her looking at me like I’m a cool drink on this hot day.
“You’re also sweaty.”
“Just installed a hammock.”
She blinks twice, registering my words, then manages to tear her hungry gaze from my torso. “You’re also about to be half naked in whatever tabloid’s camped out.” She jerks a thumb over her shoulder.
The reporters. Shit.
I pull Skylar inside, moving too quickly in my rush to shield us. She ends up trapped between me and the door, with only the thin fabric of her dress separating us. My hands beg to be all over those beautiful curves.
But Skylar surprises me.
She hugs me. Tight. Her scent floods my senses. Salted-caramel chocolate. Skylar. Happiness.
“Hi, sweetheart,” I murmur, burying my face in her hair.
“Hi,” she breathes into my neck. “I missed you so much.”
She steps back, and I wish I didn’t already have to let her go. I shouldn’t have let her go in the first place.
“Will the reporters stay until I leave?” she asks.
“Probably. It’s the aftermath of my interview. But unless I go on to compete in another sport, this shouldn’t be the norm once they get a conclusion for their stories.” I stroke her cheek, loving the way her eyes flutter shut and her breathing steadies.
“I hope not.”
“I can still say something to them. Whatever you want.” I won’t let this be like last time. I’ll do what’s good for both of us, not just what makes me comfortable. “But my publicist already tried pacifying them.”
“Your publicist?”
“Got one ahead of the show. She’s making sure we come out of this looking good. That’s why I hired her.”
“She can’t control what people write.”
“No, but she can defend us better than I can. She can manage anything you’re uncomfortable with. I made sure of it.”
Her pretty eyes open again to meet mine. “You did that for me?”
“I’d do anything for you.”
Her face glows with a blush of pink. “I’m starting to realize that.” She places a hand on my bare chest, sending a jolt to my heart.
I lean in, but she brings the journal up between us. “You’re already done?” I ask.
“The moment I got your message, I cleared my day. Brandon…this is the most beautiful gift anyone has ever given me.”
I would’ve settled for any assurance I didn’t freak her out. But beautiful? If I had better knees, I’d do a backflip off Luis’s kitchen table.
“That’s the second time you’ve used my first name.”
“Is that okay? It’s how you signed your letters. After reading all that, it feels more…you.”
“Hell yeah, it’s okay. I love my name on your lips.”
She beams, and my insides do more happy flips. I want to spend my days earning that smile, knowing I’m the one who put it on her face.
“But we do need to talk.” She steps away.
I smooth a palm over my mouth. Talking is good, albeit terrifying.
While she says hi to Luis, I duck back inside to towel off and look for a clean shirt to go with my cargo shorts.
I settle on the fitted gray T-shirt Skylar borrowed the first time she was in my bed.
I grab my cane, which I’m trying to use less around the house, but I’ve overdone it this week already.
I turn on the ceiling fan as Luis shuts the glass door behind him. “Is it too warm?”
“The breeze and shade are nice.” Skylar perches on the edge of the hammock, letting her legs dangle toward me. Her dress rides up, revealing more of her smooth skin. I want to sob when she adjusts it back down.
“You wanted to talk?” I ask as I pull up a chair.
She reaches into her purse. My journal lands in her lap, and for a fleeting moment, I am irrationally jealous of stationery.
“I made some notes,” she says.
“So, there are things to discuss?”
The future plans might’ve been too intense. I want to move in with Skylar, sure, but not today. Then there’s that one dirty fantasy—either hot or crossing a line. I’m hoping I know Skylar well enough that she’ll think the former.
“About living together, yes. But not about being together.”
My heart thuds back to life. “No?”
She wrings her hands. “I’m sorry for ending things. It wasn’t just the article backlash. I didn’t want anyone thinking I was too much for them again.”
“Skylar, sweetheart, I can’t get enough of you.”
“I understand that now. I also used Emy and Analia as an excuse because I was upset about the support group and worried about losing the people who’ve made me feel valued. But you’ve always made me feel valued.”
I cup her face, needing to touch her because my words are failing me again.
“I’m sorry for making you doubt your worth,” she says. “You mean more to me than I can express. While I love my girls, I also love you.”
My breath catches. “You love me?”
“I love you. Very much.”
She loves me. I press a kiss to her forehead, relief flooding me.
“You’ve always been good for me,” she says. “I was scared and fell back on old fears. Thank you for seeing through them.” She tilts my chin up. “I’m not afraid anymore. If you want me, I’m here.”
She’s quoting my words back to me.
“Of course I want you,” I say. “I will always want you.”
“I know I can be difficult. I’m not used to having someone around so much. But I can learn.”
I run my hands over her smooth knees. “I’m learning too.”
“I never want you to think I don’t love you because I need space sometimes due to pain,” Skylar says.
“Me neither.”
Her hands cover mine, and I realize how much I’ve needed this reassurance. It’s not just me who struggles with burnout. And talking things out, being open, it’s not as hard as I thought with the right person.
“But you have to tell me when you’re hurting,” she says. “Even if we can’t fix it, I want to know. You have to tell me what you’re really thinking. No bullshit. You can’t just say you’re happy and great.”
“What I’m really thinking is that I am, actually, happier and greater than I’ve been in a long time, knowing you love me too.”
She beams, her smile too pretty for this world, then brushes her fingers through my hair. “I’m sorry you didn’t feel safe telling me what was bothering you.”
“It wasn’t you. It was me. Sounds cliché, but I was scared that admitting my limitations would slow us down and bring back all the sadness I didn’t want to feel.” It’s still difficult to admit that. “But you’ve had to slow down many times—”
“Every day, Brandon.”
“Right. That’s never bothered me.”
“So why would it bother me?”
“No, you’re right.”
“And about the sex—”
I take a steadying breath.
“I’m not with you just for orgasms. That’s a perk, of course, but I’m with you because of who you are and how you make me feel. Intimacy isn’t just sex.”
I gently grasp her fingers, the touch anchoring me. “I think I’m still trying to figure out who I am without my old body, and what that means for everything else. That’s why I wanted you to read my journal. It’ll help me be more open.”
“I want your body exactly the way it is, but I also want your mind and heart. You.” She passes me the notebook. “My other thoughts aren’t as important.”
“Skylar.” I slide a hand around her neck until my forehead presses to hers, then inhale her sweet scent. “All your thoughts are important. Even the ones you think might scare me off. They won’t. I’m in this for the long haul.”
“Me too,” she says, and I brush my lips against hers until I pull a little sound of impatience from her throat.
I dig my hands into all that thick red hair and capture her mouth with mine. The raw throb deep in my chest fades for the first time in weeks. My body aches, but in a good way. The way it only does around Skylar.
Her tongue meets mine, warm and wanting, while her fingers grasp at my T-shirt, a silent plea. I trail my hands down her beautiful curves and bring her closer, the hammock easily allowing her to hook her legs around my back. She arches into me, a gasp leaving her lips.
I groan with pleasure. I need more of those breathy sounds she makes when she feels good.
She slips her hands under my shirt, nails lightly dragging over my skin. “I would also like to discuss page fifty-seven of your journal.”
“What page was that?”
“It involved you, me, and a snowed-in cabin in the Alps.”
I break our kiss, but the lusty flush of her cheeks pulls me right back to her mouth. I can’t let her go. I’m too obsessed. She’s mine. She loves me.
“If it has an outdoor hot tub,” she says against my mouth, “I’m down.”
Did I not mention the hot tub in my fantasy? What kind of brute am I?
“I think we can negotiate that.”
“Brandon,” she begs. “Get up here.”
I nip at her lips once more before placing her down in the hammock, a vivid image already unfolding in my mind.
But my hips crunch as I get in, and I realize this might not be as easy as I imagined. No matter how hard I try, I can’t lie on my side without irritating my bursa. When I move onto my stomach, the rope digs into my kneecaps.
After cursing up a storm—and nearly toppling out—I sprawl onto my back in defeat.
Skylar thinks my predicament is hilarious. But when she tries to move over me herself, she can’t gain purchase on this infernal rope either. We sway back and forth, clinging to each other for dear life until we’re both doubled over in laughter.
Ah, that laugh. I’ve missed it.
“Oh my God,” she gasps. “All this rocking is giving me motion sickness. Can we nap instead and resume this after dinner?”
“It’s a date.” I stroke her cheek and close my eyes. “Just wanna be close to you.”
She settles on her side and drapes a leg over me, dropping her head to my chest, and damn if I don’t love this too.