Trevor shakes his head. “No.” That’s not the only reason, at least.
“So can we talk?” Skyler asks. “Like two people who’ve known each other a long time and want to catch up?”
“Is that what we’re doing?”
Skyler lets out a frustrated groan. “I don’t know. But. It’s good to see you.”
All the tension coiled tightly in Trevor’s body suddenly snaps and falls away.
This is just Skyler. His Skyler. Well. Not his anymore, but still. Skyler is right here, standing in front of him for the first time in years.
“It’s good to see you too,” he confesses.
He searches for something else to say, coming up blank. But he can’t help but chuckle at the sight of this man—who typically flaunts himself in skintight ripped jeans and barely buttoned floral shirts—being swallowed up by these baggy, drab clothes.
“What?” Skyler asks.
He shakes his head. “I didn’t mean for you to try to go full incognito. I only meant for you to dress less like Skyler James and more—” He stops himself from sayingnormal, because he’s not trying to say that anything about Skyler’s abnormal. Except it kind of is, isn’t it? Skyler James is not a normal human being. He’s extraordinary.
“Uh, subdued,” he finishes awkwardly.
It’s the wrong thing to say anyway because Skyler’s eyes narrow. “What’s wrong with the way I dress?”
“Nothing!” Spoke too soon about the tension. “I love the way you dress.”
At this, Skyler’s eyebrows shoot upward, and er, well,thatwasn’t exactly what Trevor meant to say either.
He clears his throat, hoping to move past this. “Anyway, it’s eighty degrees. Aren’t you dying under all that?” Heck, he’s only in a white T-shirt and basketball shorts, andhe’sstarting to sweat.
“I’m fine.”
That’s probably a lie, but he lets it go. “Whatever you say. You want to find somewhere more shaded, at least?”
“Sure,” Skyler says, pointing toward an area with a few picnic tables and some tree coverage.
Trevor follows him there, where they sit across from each other at one of the tables. This is probably better than being forced to sit squished beside each other on a bench. But now they’re looking right at each other and he’s taking in every detail of Skyler’s devastatingly attractive face, so on second thought, this might be harder.
“At least you managed to ditch the security detail,” he muses. “How’d you get away with it?”
Skyler rolls his eyes. “You know they work for me, right? I’m their boss, not the other way around. And I go places on my own, it’s not that big of a deal.”
“Right,” Trevor says.
The silence between them stretches until it hangs thicker in the air than the traces of smoke from the wildfires burning way up the coast.
This was a mistake. Trevor should have known it would be the most painfully awkward conversation of his life.
He’s almost ready to make up an excuse and bail on the whole thing when Skyler says, “I’m sorry about the paparazzi coming after you because of me.”
“Good,” he says, then cringes. He doesn’t want to be a dick. But it kind of is Skyler’s fault.
To Skyler’s credit, he doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t say anything to defend himself either. Just chews on his lip and waits for Trevor to say more.
When Trevor keeps his lips pressed firmly together, Skyler says, “I understand you’ve tried to stay out of the limelight. So you have the right to be upset.” The corner of his mouth dips down, not like a frown exactly, but more like he wants to say something else and doesn’t know if he should. Then—“Did you, um. Did you say anything to them?”
“Don’t you think you would have heard about it right away if I did?” Trevor says. At Skyler’s acknowledging nod, he continues. “They mostly left after a couple days, but my publicist has a dozen interview requests to turn down. Not sure she’ll agree that’s the best course of action, but that’s what I’m doing. Ignoring it and hoping it goes away. Sounds like a mature and viable plan, right?”
Skyler laughs and then goes quiet.
