“Deacon was right,” he finally says, his gaze fixed on the floor.
“Right about what?”
“The thing we talked about the other night.”
I frown for a moment as I try to recall the last conversation we had involving Deacon. It was the one on Friday night…ah.“So…you have feelings for me after all?”
He nods, dejection coming off him in waves.
Honestly, I don’t see why this is such a big problem, but given Skyler’s so obviously distressed I don’t think downplaying it is going to get us anywhere.
“Sky, look at me.” He hesitates and I let out a heavy sigh. “Please,look at me.”
Finally, he turns his gaze to mine, giving me the opportunity to fix him with a look full of all the sincerity I can muster. “This ruinsnothing.Do you hear me? Maybe some things will change, but we’ve always found a way to adjust and adapt in the past and we can do that now. Right?”
His eyes are full of both doubt and hope as he nods in silent acknowledgement.
“And I can guarantee one thing—it will never, ever be like the way it was before.Ever.”
I have a feeling I’ll be making quite a few speeches like that before he finally gets it through his head that I’m not going anywhere. But if that’s what it takes, I’ll be happy to do it.
“You want to go home?” I suggest. “I can make you some bacon.”
He narrows his eyes at me, and I’m relieved to see him looking a little more like my Skyler. “I’llmake the bacon. I’m not really craving charcoal today.”
I grin at him as I stand from the sofa. “Okay then, you can make me some while you’re at it.”
Skyler shakes his head, but I’m glad to see his expression is close to wry than agitated or upset. Progress. We’ll just take it one normal thing at a time.
We say goodbye to a very relieved-looking Deacon and Drew, and then make the walk back to our place.
It’s not until we get through our front door that I realize Skyler is still clutching the alligator. “Where’d you get that?”
Skyler glances at the stuffy in his hand as though he’s only just seeing it. “Oh. It’s Deacon’s. Shit, I didn’t mean to take it with me.”
My brows shoot up. “Deacon has a stuffed alligator? That’s…unexpected.”
“It’s a crocodile, apparently. And it’s from his classroom.”
“Okay, well I can drop it back there tomorrow if you want? His school isn’t too far from the garage.”
Skyler clings tighter to the alligator—sorry, crocodile—and shakes his head. “It’s fine. I can do it.”
I let out a soft sigh, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “Okay, then.”
I’m distracted for a moment as I remove my boots and hang my coat up, so I’m surprised when I hear Skyler’s voice coming from the kitchen. “It’s Sunday. You want pancakes?”
I flash him a broad smile. Another normal step forward. “Of course.” I move toward the kitchen, getting there just as my stomach gives a loud growl. “I think I might make some cereal first, though. I’m fucking starving.”
I take my cereal out to the breakfast table and eat as I scroll through my phone. Before long, the delicious scents of pancakes and bacon start wafting through the air and it actually starts to feel like a normal Sunday. I even have the damn cat staring at me.
The only thing out of the ordinary is Skyler’s mood. He still seems a little despondent and agitated—far from his usual bright, sunshiny self. Obviously I’m not expecting him to be turning cartwheels right now, but that doesn’t make it any easier to see him in pain.
Once I’m done with my cereal, I get up and head into the kitchen, brushing past Skyler at the stove so I can rinse the bowl in the sink.
“Fuck, Jackson—would it kill you to wear a shirt?” he exclaims, his eyes wild with distress, cheeks flushed with obvious agitation.
My brows draw together in a mix of concern and confusion. “What? Why?”
