Chapter 38
I WAKE UP TO AN empty bed. Relief washes over me since with Sky gone, I don't have to explain his presence or why my parents went to bed knowing there was one teenager in their house to wake up and find two of us running around.
That relief, though, dies a tragically horrible death when I'm on my way back from the shower in a fresh change of clothes and hear something that stills me.
My mom is laughing. She is naturally a good-natured person who is easy to be around.
Always smiling and making people comfortable but something about the quality of her laugh grabs my attention.
There's also the fact that I can hear Dad's muffled voice, a cheerful note to it that I haven't heard in maybe years.
Curiosity gnawing the living shit out of me, I turn on my heel and head for the kitchen, the delicious aroma of frying eggs and bacon, roasted coffee, and the sweet scent maple syrup drifting through the air, dragging me inside the space.
What I find stops me dead in my tracks.
My parents are both dressed for work, but Dad is leaning against the nearby counter, a cup of coffee in hand.
He's listening to what is being said, not smiling with his lips but his eyes, the way people do when they're happy about something and in a good mood.
Mom is sitting at the island counter, hands clasped beneath her chin, stars in her eyes.
On the other side of the island counter, Sky Daniels stands with a kitchen cloth draped over his shoulder, scooping hot scrambled spinach and cheese eggs from the pan into a bowl. He says something to which my mom laughs at, tossing her head back like he just told the joke of the century.
Don't get me wrong, I'm so glad he didn't slip back out my bedroom window and leave but I'm beginning to wish he had.
What is he still doing here? And why is he making breakfast? What is he saying to have my mother laughing like a lovestruck schoolgirl?
"Ah...good morning?"
All activity ceases in the kitchen. Mom turns to me, clearing her throat. "Oh, hi sweetie! Why didn't you tell us Sky was coming over?"
I flick my gaze to said person who sends me a wink over a smug, shit-eating smile.
"Uhm...I guess it slipped my mind."
Mom waves her hands as if dismissing my little slip up entirely. "Oh well, never mind that now. You know," she says, wagging a finger in Sky's direction, "I think I like him better than your other friends. Brent and the others? Sky is so much nicer. And thoughtful. He made all of this for us."
She gushes, cooing at Sky, dramatically gesturing to the breakfast spread – scrambled eggs with spinach and cheese, and another batch without, vanilla pancakes with maple syrup and sliced strawberries, buttered toast, crispy bacon, and freshly brewed roasted coffee.
Boy. If only she knew how far from platonic my relationship with Sky really is. I wonder how she'll react if she finds out what we did last night.
"Yeah. He's really something." My lips pull into a thin, sarcastic line.
Sky grins into a cup of coffee, taking a sip before setting it down and grabbing a clean mug off the rack. He pours another cup, holding it out to me.
A small gesture that is almost my undoing in the face of my discomfort and total awkwardness.
"Anyway, I'd love to stay and chat, but I have an early session this morning." Mom gets up, scooting the stool back into place. She turns to Sky with a bright smile. "Sky, thank you for breakfast, but I'm going to have to take some for the road."
"Unfortunately," Dad chimes in, finishing off his coffee, "so do I." Dad indicates the empty coffee mug as he puts it in the sink. "Coffee's great, kiddo."
"I'm glad you like it, Dr. Conner."
Sky slips the fresh mug of coffee into my hands, tugging on my jacket until I'm leaning against the counter beside him.
We stand in silence, drinking our coffees until my parents have packed themselves breakfast and with a quick goodbye and a reminder for me to get to school on time but to be careful on the road, they slip out.
The front door shuts, drowning us in an awkward silence.
"I didn't expect you'd still be here."
He finishes his coffee and puts the mug in the sink. "It's my fault. An honest mistake. I overslept and your dad caught me sneaking out of your room."
A flush of red tinges his cheeks. I have every inclination to point out his embarrassment and poke at him for it but instead, I file away the image for future references, imprinting the image because blushing is so unlike him and I can't help but think how it suits him.
"Why didn't you sneak out through the window?"
"I had to pee," he counters. "And no, I wasn't about to piss on the side of the road when there's a perfectly functional toilet three doors away from your room."
Fair point. Besides, Sky Daniels is Jasper Falls royalty. It would be unseemly to see town royalty giving a wall or some roadside shrubs a golden shower.
"What'd you tell my dad, anyway?"
He shrugs, grabbing two plates from the cabinet behind his head, dishing out eggs, bacon, and toast on one plate, and pancakes with syrup, strawberries, and eggs on the other.
"That you wanted to hang out but I fell asleep and thought it would be dangerous driving home at two in the morning."
I raise an eyebrow, crossing my arms over my chest. "And he bought that post Tuesday's incident? Never mind if the excuse is magnificently creative, but you're probably more dangerous than anything else that crawls around out there. There's no way he bought that."
He spreads his arms. "What can I say? I'm charming that way."
"And all of this," I continue, gesturing to the breakfast spread, "wasn't you trying to distract my parents so they don't ask why you're really here? I never have people over."
Sky pauses, straightens up next to me, two forks clutched against his chest. He narrows his eyes at me. "Should I have told them the truth? That the real reason I snuck in through the window was so their son could jerk me dry?"
I scrunch my nose, flaring my nostrils in mock anger despite the smile threatening to break free. "You're so vulgar."
He laughs, leaning in close with a "Good morning, Conner," and dropping a kiss on my cheek.
"Good morning, Daniels."
He leads me to the nearby dining table inside a small adjoining room directly opposite the kitchen, carrying our plates of breakfast and eating utensils while I carry two glasses of orange juice.
"You want to know the real reason I did all of this?
" he suddenly asks as he slips into a chair in front of the plate of toast, eggs, and bacon, watching me closely as I take the one next to him.
When I turn to look at him, patiently waiting, he chuckles softly.
"I wanted to thank them." I frown, tilting my head. "For having you."
Don't cry. Don't cry. Do not cry, Jace Conner.
Blowing out air through my mouth, I aim for lightness. "Now that is cheesy."
Of course, the prick won't let me have it.
He takes my hand in his, rubbing his thumb on the back of my hand, over my knuckles, and along my fingers. "Then let me be cheesy one more time today. I didn't say it back last night," he says, lifting my hand to his lips, "but I love you too."
Tears well in my eyes. I try to laugh it off but the laughter trembles on my tongue, wetness coating my cheeks. I would chalk it up to the tumor throwing my emotions out of whack, but I can't blame my reaction on it this time.
I'm living on burrowed time. The boy I'm madly in love with just told me he loves me and all I can think about is, despite how amazing last night was, how amazing I feel whenever I'm with him, it's not going to last.
One day, he'll wake up and get the news that I'm no longer here. He'll wake up one day, put on a suit, head to the funeral home, and watch me be lowered into the ground inside a wooden box.
I see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice. He isn't lying about how he feels and that makes it so much worse.
He reaches for me, dragging his chair closer as he wipes my tears away with soft kisses, and then some more he peppers across the backs of my hands.
"You're not alone. Whatever is hurting you so much, whatever scares you, I've got you."