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“Yeah,” I agree. But I’ve never done that. I’ve always been the good son, afraid to upset my parents. I hurt Sky instead of them. That’s some fucked-up shit right there. “I’m the worst.”

“Nope. No pity parties here. You had a great game, your boyfriend came to watch, you impressed kids at The Q Solutions, and you got an ‘atta boy’ from your dad. A damn near perfect day.”

“Are you agreeing to be my boyfriend?” I pick him up and walk to the bedroom.

“I’m reserving judgment. A little terrified you’ve got your twin bunk beds,” he deadpans.

“Too small for me. I’m not sure where they are, but when I came home from college, I threatened to never come to their house unless they got a bed for someone my size.” I set him on my king. His hands run over the fabric of the comforter my mom insisted on picking out. “I got myself a big boy bed.”

“Proud of you.” Sky pats the bed next to him, inviting me.

“Have I told you that my name across your back looks sexy? You should wear it more often.” I remove my kicks and socks.

“How about we give the boyfriend thing a trial basis?” Sky blushes, and his request gives me hope.

“Are you looking for a money-back guarantee?” I pull off his socks and shoes.

“Trying to save us some heartbreak in the future,” Sky admits, and lets me take off his jeans.

“There’s no saving me now.” The truth rings in the air. I cross the room and rummage through my dresser to find him an old shirt to sleep in, preferably one with my name on the back. Finding one, he has no choice but to wear it.

When I turn around, Sky’s under the covers and sitting against the headrest.

“You look good.” It’s an effort not to swallow my tongue.

Sky runs his fingers through his hair. “Stop it.”

“Here, I’ll help you put this on,” I say, and he respectfully refrains from rolling his eyes. Sky lifts his arms, and I remove his pretty shirt and replace it with mine. “Sooo.” I swallow hard and lie next to him. “Will you do me the honor of being my boyfriend?”

Sky giggles and slaps a hand over his mouth. Turning serious, he says, “We have a lot of things to talk about. I’m nervous about how my job and your parents will affect us.” He stops my protest with a stern glance. “Those are things we’ll figure out as we go. Forgive me.” He inclines his head to the ceiling, asking an unknown entity for forgiveness. “I don’t want to say no.”

“Then don’t,” I whisper, terrified he will.

“Okay, I won’t, but I’m not ready to say yes either.” He shifts, using my chest as a pillow. “You should sleep. You’ve got an early morning.”

“Thank you.” I tilt his chin with my forefinger to kiss his lips. I’ve been given the second chance I absolutely don’t deserve. My chaste kiss becomes more, and we lose ourselves in each other.

Chapter 17

Skylar Engelhardt/ Lark Angel

There’s no reason to be this nervous. I swear that’s become my new mantra. Mav and I have video chatted for hours while he was away, and he’s been to my place before. I move the vase of flowers to the kitchen island where they’re visible from the doorway.

I offered to pick him up, but there were flight delays and he didn’t want me to wait. I’ve calculated how long his drive will be with traffic and wish I had his location.

Who am I right now?

My hairband is too tight, so I rip it out and fix my hair in the reflection of the fridge. I never imagined being the guy who wants to share his location with someone. Ridiculous. But it’d be great to track his exact arrival time.

I’m tempted to run upstairs to put product in my hair but realize Mav doesn’t give a shit how my hair looks or if I have fresh flowers or shiny clean quartz countertops. I’m stressing myself out.

We’ve talked about my work, and King, and a little of my years in New York, but we decided to finish the conversation in person.

Mav has tomorrow off, and it’s the fundraising gala, and we haven’t seen each other in four days. I’m not freaking myself out and putting pressure on tonight’s conversation as make or break. That’s silly. We are more than our past, and he’s changed in tangible ways.

He’s been a better boyfriend than he ever was in high school even though I didn’t say yes. He’s not afraid to introduce me to people, hold my hand in public, or tell his teammates to get lost when we video talk. All things I didn’t believe possible back then.

I pace in the front entrance, which is not easy to do. But I don’t want him waiting in the cold.