Finally, he pulls away again, drawing in a breath as he casts his eyes around our vicinity. I guess there must be a couple people watching because a faint blush touches Skyler’s cheeks. He quickly adopts a neutral expression, shedding most of the vulnerability that had formed his expression only a moment ago. There’s still a hint there in his eyes, though.
“I’m going to the bar,” he announces. “Want something?”
I shrug. “Beer’s good.”
Skyler smiles and places a kiss to my cheek before slipping past me and moving toward the direction of the bar.
“Um, I’d like a beer, too, please,” Deacon calls after him, waving his almost-empty glass in the air. “Thanks for asking.”
I let out a wry chuckle and take Skyler’s vacated stool at the tall table.
“What did Sky mean when he said your mom saved his life?” Deacon asks, brows knitted together in obvious concern.
“How much did he tell you?” I ask curiously. I’m surprised he told Deacon anything at all, to be honest. They’ve been friends for ten years and Skyler’s never opened up about his childhood. I wonder what could have prompted it now?
“He got to the part about sneaking in your window only a few hours after you’d met,” Deacon says with a wry smile. The expression slips into a scowl as he adds, “That was after he told me all about hislovelyparents.”
My jaw hardens and my fists clench as the visceral anger I always feel at the thought of those assholes shoot through me. “I’m sure whatever he told you was a watered-down version.”
“I thought that, too,” Deacon says with a sigh. “The key takeaways I got were that they resented his existence and ignored him most of the time, and there was a lot of arguing and make up sex.”
I shake my head. “Not make up sex. It was more like hate sex. I swear, it was like screaming at each other was their kink,” I tell him, my face screwed up in disgust. “And I don’t give a shit what two consenting adults want to do together. If arguing and insulting each other does it for you, that’s your deal—but don’t fucking do it in front of kids,” I growl. “You wonder why Skyler’s always been so cynical about sex and intimacy going together—well, now you know why.”
Deacon nods solemnly. “Yeah. There’s a lot that makes more sense now.”
Skyler returns from the bar with our drinks and I’m half-expecting Deacon to hurriedly change the subject, but he doesn’t. “Wasn’t Steph mad—or at least a little freaked out— when she found a strange child in your bedroom?” he asks me.
I shake my head, my lips curving in a wry smile. “No. She thought it was cute.”
“How could she not?” Skyler says, ignoring the stool Deacon pulls up for him and instead coming to stand by me, his hand resting on my thigh. “I was every bit as adorable then as I am now.”
I let out a soft laugh and lean over to kiss his hair. Clearly, he’s used the brief sojourn to the bar to step back into the cocky, carefree skin he wears most of the time.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Deacon prompts me. “How did your mom save Skyler’s life?”
Skyler smiles, placing a hand over her heart. “By being an angel sent from heaven.”
“Yeah, that’s Mom,” I say dryly. “Super angelic.”
At Deacon’s expectant look, Skyler shrugs. “I already told you, she was like a real parent. She was a young, single mom with barely any money, but she still managed to make lunches for me, and get me books. She took me to the hospital the first time I had an anaphylactic reaction—”
“Worst fucking day of my life,” I mutter, shaking my head.
“I don’t really remember it,” Skyler muses.
I roll my eyes. “Because you were unconscious.”
He shrugs. “Yeah, well, I didn’t die, which is something I’m sure the men of New York were thrilled about…”
“Ahem,”I interrupt pointedly, sending him an unimpressed look.
His expression is all innocent. “I used the past tense.”
I roll my eyes, but it’s impossible to hold onto a scowl in the face of Skyler’s smile.
He leans toward me. “Can I have a lip cuddle?”
“You don’t need to ask every time, Sky,” I assure him, reaching for his face and drawing his lips to mine.
