My shorts are sticking to my legs, riding up higher and higher with each step I take. I’m already a block away by the time I realize her towel is still in my hand. Using it to wipe my legs better, I toss it in the next garbage can I see and pick up my pace.
My phone is vibrating in my pocket. I don’t bother to look, knowing it’s probably Skylar trying to call me. Once I’m safely in my hotel room, I strip and jump in the shower. I need to rinse away her scent. It’s clinging to my skin, a constant reminder of the sin I’ve committed.
Twenty minutes later, the water is cold and I can still smell her. Scrubbing only makes my skin raw. It does nothing to erase the memory of her body wrapped in mine. The feel of her soft skin is ingrained in my memory. The way her body responded to mine is on replay.
Giving up, I shut the water off and wrap a towel around my waist. Wiping the condensation from the mirror, I stare at my reflection. Something’s different. Maybe it’s my imagination, but I look different. I’ve stared at myself in the mirror every morning for the last six years, giving myself a pep talk before starting my day. I know what I look like.
The man staring back at me isn’t the same man he was the other day.
It’s my eyes. It’s as if they’re a shade lighter than normal.
Shaking my head, I close my eyes and silently apologize to Chelsea. I need to see her, to apologize in person. I owe her that much. Tomorrow. I’ll be on a plane tomorrow morning, and as soon as I land, I’ll head to see her.
Dropping my towel on the floor, I step into the bedroom. To my surprise, I’m not alone.
“What are you doing here?” I ask without bothering to cover myself. Leaning against the door frame, I keep eye contact to show I’m not ashamed of what’s on display.
“Dude, really? Cover your shit. I don’t need to see that.” Owen averts his eyes and throws my t-shirt at me, hitting me directly in the face.
It smells like Skylar. Damn it!
“Missed my flight, asshole,” I reply, tossing it back at him as I make my way to my bag to slip some clothes on.
“You could have called.”
“How did you even know I was here?” I ask as I dig through my bag for a clean pair of boxers. I only packed for a short trip. I’m going to have to slip on a dirty pair until I get home. Less than twenty-four hours.
“Adam called me.”
Looking over my shoulder at Owen, I try to gauge his demeanor. Adam would only call him if he couldn’t get in contact with me. It would have to be an emergency. He knows not to involve other people.
“Why?” I ask, slipping my shirt on and stepping into a fresh pair of jeans.
“He said he tried to call you a handful of times, but you didn’t answer. He said you were here at the hotel and asked me to drop by and make sure you weren’t dead.”
“As you can see, I’m fine.” Throwing my arms out to the side, I turn in a circle to prove to him I’m alive and well.
“He also said you were at the Pit Stop before you came back here.” Of course, he did. He tracked my phone when I didn’t answer. “What were you doing there?”
The waitress.
The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow them. He doesn’t need to know about that. In fact, he doesn’t need to know anything about Skylar at all. There’s nothing to know. Not after the way I ran out of there like my ass was on fire.
“Stopped in for a drink. I wanted to check the place out again. You can never be too careful,” I say, making eye contact to ensure he buys my lies.
“So when do you leave now?” he asks, changing the subject.
“I guess that depends on why Adam was trying to contact me. I should probably call him and let him know I’m alive,” I joke.
“Go for it. I’ll wait.”
Seriously? He didn’t get the hint I wanted him to leave. Why would he? We never see each other, and now we have the rare opportunity to hang out a little more. If he only knew why I missed that plane. He’d never let me live it down.
Twenty minutes later, Owen is giving me a lift to the police station to answer some follow-up questions about our case. He drops me off out front and promises to come back in an hour to pick me up. Before heading inside, I call Adam back and rip into him for calling Owen. He crossed the line. I’m on personal time right now. I’m off the clock. My whereabouts are none of his concern. The police could have waited to speak with me.
The detective has me fill out a few forms after I answer his questions. This is all shit I could have done when I got home. That’s why they invented technology like fax machines and email. So people can do business from anywhere in the world.
Owen’s waiting for me when I emerge. The sky’s dark, but the city’s brighter than it was when I went inside. I know they call Las Vegas the city that never sleeps, but New York City could be its rival any day. It always feels alive here no matter what time of day or night it is.
“Wanna grab a drink?” Owen asks as he merges into traffic.
“Sure. What did you have in mind?”
“Bliss and a few friends are at the Pit Stop. I figured we’d meet up with them. Unless you’re afraid to be seen there twice in one day,” Owen suggests, arching an eyebrow at me in question.
She’s not working tonight.
She won’t be there.
I won’t see her.
If she is there, will I be able to face her? I ran out on her. I left her without any explanation. Could she tell I was freaking out?
She hasn’t tried to call. Will she ever?
Was this a one-time thing?
I told her I couldn’t be what she was looking for. She said she understood.
“Earth to Jay,” Owen says, nudging my arm with his elbow.
“What’s up?”
“You tell me.”
“What do you mean?” Shit. He’s going to figure it out.
“I mentioned the bar, and your knees started bouncing”–pushing my foot against the floorboard, I stop my knee from moving–“ and your hands started fidgeting.”
I unclench my fists and rub my palms down my jeans.
“So, what’s going on? I’ve never seen you this nervous before. What did the police want?”
Thank God!
“Nothing. I guess I’m just on edge. They got me thinking about the case again, is all.”
“Isn’t it over?”
“Yea.”
“Do they need you to stay in the city?”
“Not that I know of.”
“What’s her name?”
“Skylar.”
Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck!
10
“The waitress from last night, right? The one with the tattoo you kept staring at. What is it? A butterfly? It was purple, right?”
“A rose,” I mumble as he turns into the parking lot of the Pit Stop.
“And you know this how?”
Might as well confess. Maybe if I do, he’ll be considerate of my “situation” if she shows up. Maybe he won’t tell Bliss until after I leave. Maybe he can help me make sense of everything that’s happened.
“Let’s just say I may have seen more of her in the last twenty-four hours than I have of any woman in the last six years.”
“Seriously? You haven’t been with anyone since Chelsea died?” He doesn’t bother to hide the shock in his voice. It’s almost disapproving.
“Why does that matter?”
“Because, man. She wouldn’t have wanted you to live like that. She would have wanted you to move on, find love again, and live a happy life. Even if she wasn’t able to be part of it. You know that. She only wanted what was best for everyone around her. That’s what made her special.”
“But–”
“No. This isn’t a debate. This isn’t even a conversation. I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. You already know it. You may want to hide from it or whatever, but it’s still the truth. If you don’t want to be in a relationship, that’s fine. Please don’t make it a
bout her, though. She would roll over in her grave and smack the shit out of you.”
Chelsea smacked me one time. It was right before we started dating. I made a nasty comment about one of her friends, and she let me have it. I didn’t even see it coming. She pulled back and her open hand hit my cheek so hard I almost fell to the ground because I wasn’t expecting it.
When I started laughing, she pushed me over and started attacking me. I held her arms back as she attempted to punch me anywhere she could. The more she missed, the angrier she got. Finally, she pulled away from me, stood up, and kicked me. Before walking away, she flipped me the middle finger and called me an asshole.
She’d never said a mean thing to me. Ever.
That moment sealed it for me. My feelings for her had already started to grow, but I knew then I was in love with her. If I could still wanted her after she tried to kick my ass, I was going to want her no matter what.
“You know, she did once.”
“Yeah, she told me,” he laughs. “Her exact words were she ‘kicked your ass.’”
“She sure as hell tried.”
“She was feisty when she wanted to be.”
“That’s one way of putting it. If you crossed her, she was a fierce storm that would do anything she needed to take you down. Remember that time someone spread a rumor you were gay?” I ask, laughing. He was so pissed off when he found out. I know he remembers.
“Fuck you, asshole. That was the stupidest shit ever.”
“Chelsea thought so, too. And all because you wouldn’t have sex with whatever-her-name-was.”
“Bridget.”
“Oh, yeah! She was skanky. I wouldn’t have touched that either. Everyone did, though. Everyone,” I say, emphasizing the word for dramatic effect.
Our laughter fades to an uncomfortable silence. Do we go inside and have a few drinks? Pretend like this conversation never happened? Try to be positive after we’ve spent the last five minutes talking about Chelsea?
That’s not really how I operate, and Owen knows it.
“Let’s have a drink,” he suggests. “Maybe Skylar will join us?”
“I don’t think she’s talking to me anymore. I kind of left her high and dry. I wouldn’t talk to me either.”
“Well, I have a feeling she’s not like you,” he replies, nodding out the front window.
Skylar is standing in front of the car. Hands on her hips. Lips pursed. Looking pissed as hell and smoking hot. Short black dress. Her hair is pulled over one shoulder with flowing curls covering her breasts. Her dress stops mid-thigh, leaving me with a delicious view of her legs.
“I’ll meet you inside,” he says.
Slowly, I get out of the car and watch as Owen disappears around the corner to the front of the building. Turning my attention back to Skylar, I clear my throat. My mind is thinking about being inside of her, like earlier, only this time allowing myself to enjoy it.
“Are you stalking me?” she asks. Her serious tone makes me take notice.
“No. Bliss is inside having a drink.”
“And you’re here because?”
“I came with Owen.”
If I’m trying to impress her, I’m blowing it big time.
“So if I kick him out, you’ll leave too?”
“Look, Skylar. If you’ll just give me ten minutes-”
“I gave you hours already. I tried to accept that you couldn’t offer me more. Then you ran away from me. No explanation. No phone call to apologize. Nothing. I’m not sure I ever want to talk to you again, let alone see you again. So, no. You can’t have ten minutes. You get one minute. Starting right now. Talk.”
Damn. She’s not kidding around. She knows what she wants and she doesn’t take shit from anyone. I have sixty seconds to explain why I ran away from her.
Clearing my throat, I wait for her to make eye contact with me before I start. I want her to see that I’m speaking from the heart. I want her to know that I’m telling her the truth, and know that I’m sorry for how I reacted earlier. When she finally looks at me, I suck in a deep breath and do the best I can to explain my actions.
“When my fiancé died I promised myself that I would never love another woman the way I loved her. That I would never replace her. I’ve kept my promise by not letting anyone in. Ever. In the last six years, you’re the first person I’ve even kissed. I don’t know why it happened to be you. I’m not sure what it all means. I do know that I’ve been thinking about you non-stop since I left earlier. That was me freaking the fuck out by the way. In my mind, I was cheating on Chelsea. Until about ten minutes ago, I still thought that. It took Owen reminding me of who Chelsea was, and what she would have wanted. She would have wanted me to be happy. She was an amazing woman. So are you.
“Look, if you can find it in your heart to forgive me, just for the night, I’d like to buy you a drink. Maybe we can talk some more. You could tell me more about you.”
She doesn’t respond right away. I wait patiently, my eyes never leaving hers. She gives me no sign as to which way she might be leaning. Is she going to give me a second chance? Am I shit out of luck? Did I blow it?
My head tells me if she doesn’t forgive me, if she doesn’t understand, then she isn’t the one for me. My heart says I picked her for a reason. That of all the women who have propositioned me in the past six years, I didn’t push her away for a reason. There’s something special about Skylar. There’s also no doubt in my mind I may have screwed things up.
If eyes are truly the window to a person’s soul, Skylar’s soul is angry with me right now.
“Is all that true?” she finally asks, shifting her stance and crossing her arms.
“Yes. Every word.”
“You’re not just making up the dead fiancée to get me back in bed? I mean, I know you told me earlier that she died, but this feels more like an excuse than an explanation.”
I’m unable to stop a smile from spreading across my face, though. It’s dark enough that, unless she steps closer to me, she won’t be able to see it.
“No, unfortunately, I’m not. A part of me died the day I buried Chelsea. A part of me I thought would always be buried. It turns out, I just needed someone to wake my heart back up. You did that, and it scared the shit out of me.”
“Compliments will get you nowhere with me, Mr. Wright.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Funny. I’m sure you’ve used that line before.”
Never, but I don’t bother to tell her that. “Will you please have a drink with me, Skylar Cook?”
“Only because you said please.” I take a step in her direction, and she meets me in the middle, pokes her finger in my chest, and stares up at me. “If you ever run out on me again, keep running and don’t look back.”
“I don’t plan on running again, Skylar.”
“That remains to be seen.”
11
Skylar lets me hold her hand as we walk to the front of the bar. It’s a small gesture, but it gives me hope that we’ll be able to move past my stupidity and she’ll give me a second chance. I want to see where this goes. The possibilities are endless.
After canceling her plans with a “friend,” we head inside to join Bliss and Owen. Owen waves us over, a shit-eating grin on his face when he sees Skylar next to me. I’ll have to remember to punch him for that later.
Bliss has her back to us, but when she notices Owen waving, she slowly turns to see who he’s waving at. Our eyes connect as a smile starts to spread across her face. Then she glances to my right, and her smile fades to a look of confusion. As we get closer, Bliss stares at Skylar, squinting her eyes and tilting her head.
The moment it all clicks, when she finally recognizes Skylar, it’s like a light bulb goes off. Her confused frown turns into an electric smile as she jumps from her chair, causing it to crash to the floor. She lands in my arms, and I wrap my free arm around her.
“It’s about damn time,” she whispers in my ear.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard that a few times today.”
Pulling back, she places a hand on each side of my face and looks me directly in the eye. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. The only person holding you back is you. You can choose happiness, Jay. It’s an option. You just have to let yourself be happy.”
“I’m working on it,” I say, looking to Skylar. Her hand is covering her mouth, hiding her smile.
Hours later, we stumble out the front door, hand in hand, laughing at Owen’s stupid jokes. Their cab is waiting for them. I took Owen’s keys more than an hour ago and he didn’t fight me for the first time in a long time. I promised to bring his car over in the morning. Before my flight.
Which brings me to my current state of panic.
My plane leaves in ten hours.
“Are you going to be a gentleman and walk me home?” Skylar asks.
“Of course. Are you going to be naughty and invite me in?” I reply, wrapping my arms around her waist and bringing her body as close to mine as possible.
“That depends. What happens after tomorrow? Will I ever see you again?” she asks, her concern evident.
“I sure as hell hope so. I wish I could stay, but I have to get back to work.”
“I know. I heard you talking to Owen earlier.”
“You’re welcome to come visit me anytime, you know,” I say, hoping she might actually give it some thought. I’m not sure the next time I’ll be able to come back to New York. Work seems to be picking up, not slowing down, and I never know where it might take me.
“Thanks. I’ll think about it. One step at a time,” she replies, pushing me away. Taking my hand, she pulls me around the back of the building toward the stairwell to her apartment.
“Should we say goodnight here?” I ask as she opens the door and stops.
“Probably.”
“Look at me, Skylar.” When she doesn’t turn around, I place my hands on her shoulders and gently turn her in place, holding the door open with my foot. “We will see each other again. I promise. You’re the first woman to open my heart in a long time. I won’t let you go that easily.”
Losing Chelsea (Saving Bliss #2) Page 5
