My Skylar (26 page)

In that moment, I vowed that no matter what it took, the shirt wouldn’t be the only thing I’d

be stealing from him.

CHAPTER 22

SKYLAR

Kevin pulled out my chair. “You really look stunning tonight.”

“Thanks.”

I decided not to intentionally embarrass him for once and kept my wardrobe choice modest.

Even though ruffling his feathers was more fun, I figured it was the least I could do considering

the better part of the past week was spent fantasizing over my ex-boyfriend’s chest, which had

apparently become a shrine in honor of me.

Tonight, we were at dinner with one of Kevin’s co-workers, Ray Michaelson and his wife,

Linda.

Linda placed a cloth napkin on her lap. “So, Sky, Kevin tells me you’re an interior designer?”

“Yes. I’m starting my own company, actually. It’s still in the early stages. What do you do?”

“I don’t work, but I chair my community Agriburbia board.”

“Agri what?”

“Agriburbia.”

“That sounds like a digestive issue…”

Kevin put his fork down. “Sky…”

I whispered, “I was just making a joke. Sorry.”

Linda continued, “Actually, it’s a concept for integrating agricultural production with housing

developments.”

“Ah…very nice.” I took a sip of water.

Kevin rolled his eyes.

“Have you two set a date?” Ray asked.

I hated this question. “Well—”

Kevin chimed in. “I was thinking summer. What about you, Sky?”

“We haven’t really discussed it, Kev.”

“I know, but summer would be ideal, and we’re not having anything big anyway, so we should

have enough time to plan.”

“Okay, well, we should talk about this in private another time.”

Linda clasped her hands together. “Summer weddings are fabulous. You could book something

down the shore or…Ray, what about your uncle who lives in the Hamptons? Do you think he’d be

willing to rent out his house for the event? Wouldn’t that be the perfect venue for a wedding?”

Great. Now, agriburbibitch was planning my wedding?

“I think we’ll be good, but thank you.”

Kevin turned to her. “Actually, Linda, would you mind looking into that? A Hamptons wedding

might be nice.”

I cleared my throat. “Excuse me. Don’t I have a say in this?”

“Sky…come on. I just asked her to look into it.”

“Well, I don’t want to get married in the Hamptons.”

Ray and Linda quietly munched on their salads as the mood became tense.

After dinner that night, Kevin paused before starting the car.

“Do you mind telling me what’s going on with you? They were trying to be helpful, and you

shit all over it.”

“I just don’t like people prying into my life when I didn’t ask them to.”

“It’s more than that.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been distant. It’s been that way for a couple of months.”

I hadn’t realized how transparent it was. Mitch was all I could focus on lately. My feelings for

him weren’t going to disappear, but it wasn’t feasible to think that he and I could actually have a future, that we could just pick up where we left off. There was a child involved now, and I wasn’t

sure I could ever move past what happened in order to accept Henry the way he deserved and the

way I would need to in order to be with Mitch. But I just couldn’t stop thinking about him: the

passionate way he looked at me, the love he had for Henry, his smell, how his heart beat against

his smooth, hard chest that now bore my name. Thoughts of Mitch were consuming my life.

At the same time, I truly cared about Kevin. He didn’t deserve to be strung along while I dealt

with these other feelings. We had our moments, but deep down, he was a good man. Kevin had

been my safety net for so long, and losing him could mean ending up alone altogether.

I needed to say whatever it took to keep the peace while my head got sorted out. “I’m sorry. It’s

just the stress of starting the business. I’ll try not to let it show in front of other people like that.”

“I’m sorry, too. I’ve been so busy with work and hadn’t realized it was getting to you like that. I know I’m tough to live with sometimes. I’ll try to be more understanding of the stress you’re

under.” He leaned in and kissed me. “Speaking of stress, let’s go home, get into bed and relieve

some of it. I know just the way to make you feel better. You’ll see.”

Unfortunately, that night, as Kevin made love to me, the only thing I
saw
was Mitch.

***

numbers, and he told me to call him if I ever needed anything. The temptation to contact him was

ever present, but I couldn’t come up with an excuse.

It was a Wednesday night and Kevin was in Virginia when a text came in.

Did you know stalkers deliver food now? Are you hungry?

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach at the thought of seeing him.

Skylar: How did you know I was alone?

Mitch: I remembered you saying he goes away on business every other week. I

have it marked on my calendar.

Skylar: That’s very stalkerish of you.

Mitch: I’m perfecting my craft.

Skylar: Apparently.

Mitch: Would you prefer to go out to eat?

My hands were on the keypad, but I wasn’t sure what to type. He must have sensed my

apprehension when he didn’t wait for my response.

Mitch: I’m not asking you on a date. I know you’re engaged. Don’t worry. I

respect that. I just want to spend time with you.

Why did it disappoint me that he wasn’t asking me on a date? I was sick in the head and

suddenly felt guilty.
Kevin.

For all I knew, Mitch might have been involved with someone, too. We never actually

discussed that.

Despite all of the logical reasons why this was a bad idea, the need to see him again was

overwhelming.

Skylar: Pick me up at 8. What should I wear?

Mitch: Casual. I’ll be wearing all black as usual.

Skylar: Don’t forget your binoculars, creeper.

Mitch: ;-)

***

He lifted his hand up. “Hi.”

His smile nearly melted me, and I had the urge to run my tongue along his perfect teeth. This

wasn’t a good start.

“Hi,” I whispered. Any promise I had made myself to view him platonically tonight had gone

down the tubes the second our eyes met. “I’ll get my coat.”

Calm down, Skylar.

Mitch was wearing dark jeans and a gray ribbed sweater that clung to his muscles. His wet

hair was messy in the best way, and he smelled like the same musky cologne I remembered

sniffing all over my body after our one night together in Lake George. I hated being reminded of

that right now. The muscles in between my legs clenched, and I wasn’t even touching him.

He’d brought the same Corvette that was broken down last time.

I joked, “I see you fixed the stalker mobile.”

“Yeah…that plan
backfired
, right?” He laughed and the familiar sound momentarily took me

back to a place in time I never wanted to leave.

“Good one,” I said.

“Seriously, I’m grateful it broke down. I’d be sitting out here in the cold tonight watching you

instead of taking you out to dinner.”

“Do you mind if I drive it?”

“Sure.” He threw me the keys.

“How do you drive Henry around with no backseat?”

“I have a Ford F150. This car is just a hobby. It’s older. I got a good deal on it and fixed it up.”

When I turned the engine on,
Every Breath You Take
by The Police was playing. “Ah, the

stalker’s anthem, I see.”

“I dug up my old c.d. just for you.”

I shook my head and pulled out onto the street.

“Where are we going anyway?” I asked.

“I thought maybe you’d want to hit Bev’s.”

Bev’s was my absolute favorite diner. It was closer to the neighborhood where my mother lived.

We’d gone there quite a bit before he left for college, so we had a lot of good memories at that

restaurant. The menu was massive, and it was a 24-hour place, so you could order breakfast for

dinner or vice versa.

Once on the freeway, I decided to have a little fun. Before I knew it, I was going 90 with the

windows down.

Mitch yelled through the vibrating wind. “Whoa, take it easy. We’re in no rush.”

My hair was blowing around as I shouted the first thing that came to mind, “This from the guy

who came in his pants.”

My leg stiffened when he smacked it playfully. “You little shit. Thanks for remembering that…

of all things.” The quick contact of his hand on my thigh had given me goosebumps. I hated that I

wanted him to do it again.

We laughed a lot during that ride. By the time we got to Bev’s, I was sure my hair looked like a

bird’s nest. “How do I look?”

“Like you’ve been driving around in a car with the window down going 90.”

“Hideous?”

“You are
so
hideous,” he said with an expression on his face that told me he was thinking the opposite as his eyes lingered on mine.

“I’m starving,” I said as I opened the car door, slamming it unintentionally hard.

“Easy now.”

“Sorry, I guess I’m a little nervous all of a sudden.”

“Nervous…why?”

“It’s weird being back here with you.”

“Do you want to leave?”

“No.”

“Good.”

Bells jingled as we entered the diner. The nostalgic smell of freshly baked pie and coffee was

the first thing that hit me. Nancy, a longtime waitress, brought us to a booth in the corner. “I

haven’t seen you kids in ages.”

“Yeah, it’s been a long time,” Mitch said.

She looked down at my ring finger as she handed me a menu. “Congratulations, you two. What

a rock! I always knew you would end up getting married.”

She walked away faster than we could respond. The smile on Mitch’s face had disappeared,

and he was now staring at my ring, looking more upset than I had seen him since we reconnected.

I moved my hand to my lap out of sight. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” he said abruptly.

I needed to change the subject stat. “Do you know what you want?”

Without looking down at the menu, he said, “Yes.” His eyes never left mine. I looked at the

ceiling, feeling suddenly shy because it seemed like he wasn’t talking about the food.

I coughed. “I think I’m gonna get the pastrami on rye.”

“You always get that.”

“Yeah…but I haven’t had one as good as this one in five years.”

“I know how that feels,” he said under his breath, looking down. When he looked at me again,

he said, “It doesn’t seem like that long, does it?”

“No.”

Nancy came back. “What would you like?”

Mitch gestured for me to start.

“I’ll have the pastrami on rye and a Diet Coke.”

He continued to look at me while he said, “Bacon cheeseburger with extra ketchup and a

Sprite.”

“You got it,” Nancy said as she took our menus.

An awkward silence ensued after she left. Having no menu to hide behind left me feeling

suddenly naked under the weight of his stare. He looked so handsome, and I worried he could see

the want all over my face. As he licked his lips, I imagined running my fingers through his hair

and pulling him toward me into a kiss. Someone needed to notify my body that this wasn’t a date

and that it was inappropriate to be having these thoughts while engaged to another man.

I looked down at his tattooed knuckles to distract myself from the glare of his hypnotic eyes. I

was afraid to ask what the letters stood for. Then, my eyes traveled up to the neck tattoo peeking

out from the top of his sweater. It was some sort of tribal or Celtic marking. I felt guilty for

wanting to lick it in a line up to his mouth. I hated myself for all of these feelings and started

fidgeting, causing our legs to collide under the table.

“Sorry,” I said.

He ignored me and crossed his arms. “Why do you let him call you Sky?”

“He doesn’t know I hate it.”

“Why don’t you tell him?”

“He started calling me Sky from the very beginning. When I first met him, I wasn’t exactly

thinking straight. I wasn’t sure if I even wanted to be Skylar anymore back then.”

He momentarily shut his eyes. “Tell me about that…about your time in Maryland.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

Over the next several minutes, I explained as best as I could, how bad my mental state was

when I left and how I met Kevin soon after but that it took a while for us to actually get together.

He nodded in silence as I recalled the past five years. He clung to each and every word as if he

didn’t want to miss any part of it.

When our food arrived, I wanted to lighten the mood. I couldn’t eat unless something changed.

“What kinds of foods does Henry like?”

“Unfortunately, he’s very picky. He’ll only eat chicken nuggets, McDonald’s fries and mac and

cheese easily. It has to be certain nuggets, too, like the dinosaur ones and only Kraft macaroni.

Everything else is a struggle. I make him protein shakes for nutrients, mixing peanut butter and

some fruit with almond milk. He’ll drink those, but I can’t get him to pick up a fruit or a vegetable on his own.”

“That’s typical of kids with autism, right? Food texture issues?”