She shifts onto her side. “You checked me out from your hot tub, demanded I join you in it, then gave me the first of many orgasms on it. Did I get that right?”
“Many? I gave you two. But sure. We’ll call it many.”
With a wicked grin, she tap dances her fingers up my bare chest. “I say many because I’m pretty sure you’ll give me another later tonight.”
Heat floods my chest. My dick perks its head up. “Yes, you can call it many.”
“And your point is?” she asks.
That’s a good question. What is my point? To prove she likes me?
Ah, hell, that’s exactly what I’m trying to do. I want to goad her into admitting she’s into me too.
But this isn’t a real thing. We’re doing a fake dating thing. I should recommit to the fakeness. Here in my bed,as moonlight streams through the open door to the deck, I ought to clear my throat and say, “That was a one-time thing, right? We shouldn’t do that again. We’re working on the house together. Not to mention, I’m trying to have the best season of my life.”
But the words that come from my mouth are: “Was it hard seeing your ex tonight?”
Fuck. What was that all about? Why the hell am I bringing up exes…in bed???
Skylar takes a beat, her forehead creasing, as she considers. “I thought it would be hard. I spent five years with him,” she says, regret flashing in those pretty green eyes. “That’s a long time.”
The touch of self-loathing in her voice strikes a chord with me. “I was with my ex for four. I get it,” I say.
“And sure, I wanted him to see that I’m on the other side,” she says. “But as I was getting ready for tonight, I wonderedwhyI wanted that.”
I turn closer to her in bed, wanting to both protect her from whatever she might be feeling and to understand her more deeply. “Yeah?”
She meets my gaze with a soft expression. “I was asking myself why it mattered. Don’t get me wrong,” she says hastily, explaining herself. “It was fun. But in the back of my mind, I kept thinking aboutwhy.”
Tension grips me as I wait for her answer. “And did you figure it out?”
“I think I needed to go, not for him. But for me. I needed to know I was happier. I was better off,” she says, looking in the distance before turning and meeting my face again. “Because for a while there, after he left, all I could think about was how I was second best.”
It’s like she’s holding up a mirror to all my walls, to theways I’ve had to protect myself after Brittany took off. “Know that feeling well,” I admit, and it’s easier to speak the truth with her than I’d expected. Opening up feels like second nature when we’re together.
She gives a sympathetic smile. “I learned a lot from everything that went wrong. I never want to be second best. And honestly, I deserve the best.”
My heart warms from her certainty, from the way she knows herself. “You do, Skylar. You really do.”
“Thanks. I spent a while with him. I felt like I had all the time in the world to fall in love, like my parents had. I thought a love like theirs was inevitable. But it takes work and risks. And I need to be with someone who thinks I’m worth the risk,” she says. Then blinks. Shakes her head. “I mean, down the road. Someday. I’m totally focused on my business now. Romance is just scary…”
She’s talking too fast. Racing through the end of the convo like she’s said too much.
Doesn’t feel like too much to me. “I’m the same. Romance is scarier than a puck flying at your face.”
A laugh bursts from her. “I’ll have to trust you on that.”
“I promise. I’m not wrong.” Then I reach for her hand. Yeah, I need to erect walls, but I also really,reallylike touching her.
I thread my fingers through hers, looking at our joined hands for several seconds. We fit in such an unusual way. A way I didn’t anticipate. On paper, we should despise each other, like we did the first time we met.
She’s chaotic. I’m controlled. She’s carefree. I’m anything but. She’s a go-with-the-flow person. I’m a structured type of guy.
So why, universe, why the hell do I feel this almost soul-deep connection with my neighbor?
My chest twists. My heart races almost too fast, too out of control. I stare at our hands, like the answers lie there. Only, I can’t find them, so I do the dumbest thing for a guy trying to avoid romance. I open up.
“I’m glad you felt that tonight—that you’re better off.” I swallow uncomfortably. “Because I did too. I felt that. Not just the whole ‘living well’ thing.” I tap my sternum. “But I feel it here, deep inside me. Even though he’s your ex, I still felt this sense of…moving on from my past. From Brittany.”
