“It shouldn’t have beenanyone. Sometimes really shitty things happen for reasons no one can explain.”
“This one could be explained. It was a sixteen-year-old kid who thought it would be funny to set a trash can on fire outside the café.”
“Is he in jail?”
“She. And last I heard, she was awaiting trial.”
His intense gaze burned into her. “That’s why you left.”
The alcohol started to burn in her belly. “Actually, no. I stayed for a while. I was stupid and thought I could move on.”
“Why couldn’t you?”
Her skin suddenly felt hot as the memory of the other flames danced in her mind. She closed her eyes again and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”
A lie. The weight of how much it mattered almost choked her.
“Sky—”
“I’m sorry I tried to open your door with my key.”
He cocked his head, clearly wanting to keep talking about her life in Cheyenne, but thankfully, he didn’t push it. “If you hadn’t come here, I would have come to your place.”
After a moment, she frowned. “You called me Sky.”
“I did.”
One side of his mouth lifted. Was it possible a one-sided smile was sexier than a two-sided smile? Or was that the alcohol talking?
“I’m going to regret saying this in the morning…” she whispered. “But you’re nice to look at.”
The half smile turned into a full two-sided, dimples-and-everything smile.
Nope, she was wrong, this was better.
“You’re not so bad yourself, Peaches.”
Ugh, they were back to Peaches. Her eyes started to droop again. “I’m tired. I don’t usually drink this much.”
“Why did you tonight?”
“The smoke.”
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t want to know. Could you get me some water? Then I’ll go.”
Her eyes were now closed, and for a moment there was a heavy silence. Then the shuffle of his movement sounded.
She forced one eye open to see him entering the kitchen. His biceps flexed as he reached up for a glass. Why did he have to be so easy to look at? It made disliking him really hard.
Ha. It wasn’t just the way he looked that made disliking him hard. When she put aside the fence, the tree and the camera stuff, he was actually kind of a nice guy.
Oh jeez, had Drunk Sky really just called Becket nice? At least it wasn’t out loud.
Her eyes closed again, and suddenly her eyelids felt too heavy to lift. His couch was too comfortable, and somehow the leather smelled just like him.
Maybe she could stay just for a little bit.
