“Okay, come on, you gotta meet this kid,” I said, tugging at Darren’s arm and dragging him over to Skyler. “Behave yourself.”
Skyler saw us approaching and led Major Bananas to a gentle stand-still, giving us a little wave. “Hey, I thought you had the day off! I forget how long he needs to be on a walk? We’ve done twenty minutes, but I didn’t know if we should go for thirty,” he said, shyly gesturing to Major Bananas, who seemed content to be standing still now.
“What you’ve done is perfect. He just needs to get out and stretch for a bit so his muscles don’t atrophy,” I assured him. I looked up at Darren, who hadn’t glanced away from Skyler since we’d walked over. “And now, why I came in today—Skyler, this is my boyfriend Darren McKinley, who you’re finally meeting and who definitely exists and who wanted to come hang out with us and the horses today.”
Skyler, as warm and polite as ever, held out his hand to Darren. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. McKinley.”
Darren’s left arm snaked around my waist before he shook Skyler’s hand. “Charmed. So glad Lucas was able to help you out.”
Skyler pulled his lips together and nodded sheepishly. “Yeah, I’m really grateful Lucas and Cheyenne decided to become my fairy godbosses.” He blinked at me with those wide blue puppy eyes. “I hope your mom also knows how much I appreciate it.”
“Oh my god, of course. She talks about you all the time; you’re practically her second son.” I patted Darren’s hand that still gripped my waist. “Skyler’s been so good with the horses and the kids. The kidslovehim—”
Darren was still only addressing Skyler. “Yeah, Lucas has always been one to pick up strays. Obviously.” He used his free arm to gesture to the ranch at large. “This place is all about charity.”
His tone was calm and polite, but the words pricked my skin as they hung in the air. “Darren—” Embarrassment warmed my cheeks as I looked back at Skyler, who had gone rigid and quiet. Clearly whatever imaginary beef Darren had been cultivating hadn’t run its course yet. But I’d assumed whatever it was he’d have it out with me—not a kid. “I’m so sorry, he didn’t mean it like that—”
“Oh, no, I meant no offense,” Darren said, though there was still ice in his eyes, which were fixed on Skyler. “I simply wanted to make sure he understands how nonprofits work before he goes on to join the real world. You’d think someone as affluent and influential as Cheyenne Barclay would find a way to turn this place profitable, but I get it. I know that’s not what it’s about.” He brushed his finger across my cheek. “My Lucas has always beensoft.”
My breath caught, something raw ripping through my throat. “We should go,” I managed, glancing apologetically back at Skyler. “I’m sorry, I’ll see you later.”
He nodded, his eyebrows furrowed in concern as he stared at me, then at Darren, and back again. “Okay. Um. Nice meeting you, Darren.”
Darren didn’t respond, turning the both of us around and leading us out to where I’d parked my car. We were quiet on the drive back to Darren’s house, right up until we made our way inside.
“What was that about?” I asked the moment we stepped through the door. “He’s a kid; why were you talking to him like that?”
Darren shrugged nonchalantly, removing his crusty shoes and leaving them in the doorway. “I wanted to make sure he knew where he stood.”
“Where he stoodwhere? At theranch, where heworks? Because Ihiredhim?” I crossed my arms over my chest. My face had scrunched into a pout without my consent. “What about you? Why’d you decide to come by now all of a sudden? You’re not jealous of a teenager, are you?”
“What if I am?” Something had sparked in Darren’s eyes, filling them with a blistering heat that stole the air from my lungs. He stepped closer, tension rolling off him in waves as his hands clasped on either side of my waist. “What would you have to say about that?”
There was plenty to say—the thought that I’d be tempted to cheat on Darren with a teenager was not only massively wrong, it was also a little insulting. We’d have to talk about it, but right now the sinful curl of his lip was distracting.
My arms immediately uncrossed and, like a Pavlovian response, I gripped his shoulders. “I’d say you’re being very silly,” I said, my breath shaky. “You don’t need to worry about him, I promise.”
And then his lips were at my ear, a slight growl sending excited shivers down my back. “Prove it.”
We stumbled to his bedroom, mouths bruising, clothes flying. I wanted to reassure him, make sure he knew he didn’t need to feel threatened, but every time I reached for him, he moved my hands away.
“Please,” I breathed, daring to arch up from my usual position on the mattress, “I can take care of you—”
Darren’s palm, burning hot, pressed my chest back down, playfully but firmly. “Let’s not mess with a good thing. I got it.” Then he turned off the lights.
Of course—why would this time be any different?I tried not to think too hard, just relished what he was willing to give me. And took what I could get.
July 20th- Twenty-six days until the convention
I was sat staring at a potted fern, wondering with increasing horror whether I was meant to care for it. I did this for nearly twenty minutes before realizing with bone-shuddering relief that it was, in fact, made of plastic.
They’d given me an office. Apparently.
This was information that I’d only become aware of nearly a week into teaching the workshop. A student had come up to me after class and asked about office hours; I’d panicked. I joked that I couldn’t hold office hours, I’d need anofficefor office hours! And both the student and Finch had looked at me like I was the village idiot. Which I clearly was.
“Ishowedit to you,” Finch had muttered, then shook his head. “Jesus Christ.”
Then he had taken my hand, walked me out of the classroom, and physically led me a few feet down the corridor. To myoffice.
