Chapter Seven #2
“None of your business,” he replies hastily, his eyes narrowed and cruel. Skylar watches me for a moment before he adds, “This is Jacob; we just met.”
I turn back to this Jacob character, mostly to avoid Skylar’s vicious stare.
“Everett.” I extend a hand in greeting, and he grabs it in his larger one with a grip that’s most definitely tighter than necessary.
God, can he lose the macho man act?
“Well, nice to meet you, Everett.” He releases me before turning back to Skylar, reaching across the counter to grab the four shots. “Skylar, pleasure to meet you. I’d really, really like that call.”
With a lazy grin, he struts away, back to the small round table that is crowded by three other ridiculously sized men.
“Call?” I prompt Skylar, who’s wiping the bar.
His eyes meet mine, cheeks still blazing red, but his face gives nothing else away as he stares back at me. “Yes, call.”
“Why? For what?”
An exasperated sigh escapes him. “Why does it matter, Evie? I’m working.”
“Oh, so you can stop working to talk to Jacob, but not me?”
I am aware that I sound like a child; that I resemble a kid throwing taunts on the playground after class. I must appear jealous and possessive and all of the other perfectly horrible things that I truly am in this moment.
Skylar’s eyes narrow once again, no longer the picture of innocence and desperation but disgust and rage. “What’s your fucking problem? So what, I met someone who wants me to call them. Get over it.”
“For what? Call him for what?” I demand, but truthfully, it sounds a bit too close to pleading.
There is a long, uncomfortable stretch of silence where he just stares at me, all anger and tension.
Then, someone calls out for a drink, and he swallows harshly, spitting out, “I’m working, and it’s none of your business. Go hang out with your new friends and leave me alone.”
He walks off to serve someone else, and I’m left alone.
I do not go back to my new friends. I find Kelly, who is with a group of Sinclair kids I’m not super familiar with, and slide into the seat next to her.
“What was that?” she asks as soon as my ass touches the cushion.
Great, she must have witnessed the whole thing.
“Nothing. Don’t worry about it,” I grumble.
She humphs, taking another drink of her cocktail.
“Actually, do you know that guy?” I add, pointing to Jacob, who is laughing loudly, slapping his friend on the back.
Every once in a while, his eyes will find their way back to the bar—back to Skylar.
“That’s Jacob Timber,” Kelly explains. “He’s on our football team. QB, I think?” She turns her attention to one of the girls at our table. “Hey, Anne, is Jacob Timber our quarterback?”
Anne gives her an affirming nod.
Just fucking great. The quarterback of our football team? Skylar accepts someone’s number at a bar for the first time, and he chooses the quarterback of our football team?
“He was like… definitely hitting on Skylar, right?” I ask.
If she saw us fighting, she had to have seen that too. She had to have.
Kelly nods. “Oh, for sure. He’s been out for years.”
“But Skylar isn’t gay,” I deadpan. As Kelly says nothing, I turn to look at her, meeting her raised brow and look of, are you serious? “What?”
“Has he ever had a girlfriend?”
I wave a dismissive hand. “No, but only because he’s a low-key narcissist.”
She rolls her eyes at me, patting my arm as she says, “Sure, Ev. And he’s just casually a virgin. Narcissists don’t have to be abstinent, you know. In fact, most aren’t.”
“He doesn’t have desires like that. That’s what he always says.”
Her expression increasingly shows how fucking dumb she thinks I am. “That’s literally him saying he’s gay without saying it.”
My eyes seek out Skylar again, watching as he makes drinks and laughs with different patrons. “Really?”
Kelly sighs. “Everett. I watched Jacob give Sky his number, and Skylar lit up like a Christmas tree. I think he’s into men. But who cares? Are you homophobic or something?”
There’s an edge in her voice—almost like a warning.
“Huh? No, not at all. I’ve known him since I was ten, so I’m just… shocked.”
“Or jealous,” she mutters.
I choke on my beer. “Huh?!”
“Nothing! Let’s play a game!”
All around me, Kelly’s friends rally together as they discuss what drinking games are realistic in a bar setting, pulling me into the rotation.
But my mind is somewhere else.
Jealous? No, certainly not. I know how to take these desires and shove them away—I’ve been doing it for long enough now that it feels like second nature.
… But have I really? Since last night in that bathroom, have I been able to take these wants and find a place to hide them, out of sight and out of mind?
Skylar being gay is a big accusation I’m not sure I’m ready to believe. Or that I want to believe. Because if it’s true, that means he doesn’t dislike what happened between us because I’m a guy, but because it was me.
That he prefers the press of quarterback Jacob against his body over the press of mine.
And even more concerning than that is that if Skylar is gay, that opens a path to be traveled. One that can crush; one that offers the possibility of a fatal crash.
One that can kill.
I really fucking hope he’s not gay, and I really fucking hope he is.