My Skylar

He rubbed it through his hair. His skin was transparent through the wet white shirt. “This wasn’t a very smart idea. I have no change of clothes.”

“I could see if there are any in the drawers or closet upstairs. The owner might have left some stuff behind.”

“Worth a shot,” he said as he unbuttoned his wet shirt.

I watched until every last button came undone and ran back upstairs, still thinking about it.

The drawers were mostly empty. In the back of the first closet, there were a few ladies winter coats, and then I hit the jackpot: one set of obnoxious tropical shorts. The motif was a combination of bright colors and palm trees. There were no shirts in sight.

I ran excitedly down the stairs. “I have good news and bad news. I found some great shorts for you but no shirt.”

“I can live with that.”

So could I.

I threw the shorts at him. “You can change in the bathroom off the kitchen.”

“These are…wow. Hideous,” he said, holding them up. They might be a little small for me.”

When he came back out, I was amazed at how good he looked even in those ridiculous shorts. With muscles and a six-pack like that, what he wore didn’t really matter. His damp hair was messy, sticking up in all directions, which I found amazingly sexy. The shorts fit him like a glove. They didn’t look nearly as bad on him as they had on the hanger.

“I feel like my package is an advertisement for Hawaiian tourism.”

I giggled. “They don’t look half-bad.” I couldn’t help checking out his body. “When did you start working out so hard?”

“A few years after you left town.”

“Really?”

“It was my outlet, still is. You have to blow off steam somehow, right? Plus, I want to be around for a long time for my son.” He walked over to the fire. “Come sit here by me.”

There was a couch right under the fireplace on the wall. He sat on one end facing me, and I sat on the other end and put my feet up.

“I saw you were checking your phone when I was coming out of the bathroom. I’m guessing he called?”

“Yeah.”

“How come you didn’t call him back?”

“I texted him that I was turning in early and that I’d talk to him tomorrow.”

“You didn’t have to lie for me. You could’ve called him.”

“This whole trip is a lie, isn’t it? What’s the difference?”

“The difference is, you’re not doing anything wrong. He could never begin to understand our history and the need for closure.”

“So, that’s what this is about…closure?”

“There’s no one else here, Skylar—just you and me. Tell me what you’re really feeling. Please. I need to know what I’m facing when we get home.”

The fire cast a glow around his face. His translucent eyes reflected the flames. Mitch’s strong hand gripped the back of the couch as if that were the one thing keeping him from touching me. He waited for me to say something. When he pointed out that no one would ever know what was said in this room tonight, it resonated with me. Suddenly, as I looked at this beautiful, vulnerable man with my name etched onto his chest, I wanted to pour my soul out to him.

“I’m feeling…like I wish we could stay here forever. I wish everyday could be a happy one, like how we were in that water tonight.”

“We can have that kind of happiness. Everyday.”

“It’s not that simple. Someone would have to get hurt for that to happen. And then, there’s Henry…”

“Henry is fine. He has me and always will. He doesn’t need a mother, Skylar, if that’s where you’re going with this. We’ve done just fine without one. Your coming into our lives wouldn’t have to mean becoming Henry’s mother. I know you may never be able to fully accept him because of—”

“No! I don’t let her impact the way I look at him. He doesn’t deserve that. He’s been through enough. I’m just afraid of hurting him.”

He rested his forearms on his legs and rubbed his eyes in frustration then abruptly turned to me. “Because you think I’ll do something to hurt you again, and then you’ll have to leave, right? You don’t feel safe with me. I get it. But are you content? Every time I ask you if you’re happy with him, you skirt around the question. Fuck, Skylar. Are…you… happy with him?”

“You want the answer?”

“Yes.”

“A question for a question, then. I’ll answer, and then I get to ask you one.”

“Like our old game…without the basketball.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m down for that,” he said.

“You asked if I was happy…” I stared into the fire, feeling incredibly guilty for what I was about to admit for the first time, both to him and out loud to myself. “I’m not. I feel safe, but I’m not happy. You used to make me happy. You were the only person who ever made me truly happy. When that was ripped away, it became more important to feel safe than happy.” I exhaled. “My turn.”

“Okay.”

“How is it possible that you haven’t been with anyone in five years?”

He leaned his head back on the couch. “I don’t really know how to explain it, except to say I haven’t wanted anyone. It wasn’t worth it to just do it for the sake of it. My mother convinced me to see a therapist a couple of years ago. He seemed to think I was traumatized by what happened with Charisma, that I didn’t trust anyone or maybe that I was afraid the same thing would happen again. Somewhere in the back of my mind that might have been the case, but I can tell you the desire for other women just hasn’t been there.”

“But you have the desire now?”

“That’s two questions.” His eyes lowered to my ni**les that were standing to attention. “My turn. When was the last time you had sex with him?”

“Sometime before the night we went to Bev’s. My turn. Do you have the desire back now?”

He just looked at me for the longest time then said, “Yes.” His eyes traveled unapologetically down the length of my body, and his voice was lower. “My turn. Am I the reason you haven’t slept with him since Bev’s?”

I whispered, “Yes.”

My foot accidentally bumped into his leg. After I moved it back on reflex, he grabbed it and began to lightly squeeze it, bringing in the other foot as well. Deep in thought, he stared down at his hands as they massaged my feet. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensation for several quiet minutes until he stopped suddenly.

“I think I should go.” He got up and picked up his wet clothing off the floor.

“What? Why?” I followed him to the kitchen.

“Because I can’t do this.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to leave. Things just got a little out of hand.”

“I told myself I wasn’t going to touch you until you asked me to.”

“It was just a foot rub.”

“It’s not the foot rub. It’s what I almost just did. It’s what I still want to do. I want to know that you’re not gonna turn me away because once I start, I’m not sure I could stop.” He gripped the kitchen counter. “God, even the thought of being inside you makes me crazy. I get instantly hard. Just envisioning it is better than the real thing ever was with any one else.” His arousal stretched through the fabric of the tight shorts. “You think sticking my dick inside another woman was ever going to help me get over you? It never has, and it never will. Does it help you, Skylar?”

“Sticking my dick inside another woman? I’ve never tried it, but at this point, maybe I should consider it as an option three.”

He shook his head and startled me when he walked a step forward and put his hand on my cheek. “How do you do that, always make me laugh in a moment that’s supposed to be f**king serious?” He moved his hand back. “What I meant was…does f**king him while you’re thinking about me help? Based on the way you look at me, I would venture to say no.”

“What way is that?”

“The same way I know I look at you, like someone who’s wanted one thing practically his entire life and can never have it.” His voice was strained. “I don’t want to die not knowing what it feels like to be inside the only woman I’ve ever loved.”

I closed my eyes.

What he’d said took me back to my cancer days when I’d spent many sleepless nights fearing that very same thing, that I would die before I had the chance to make love to him.

“I wish we had made love that night in Lake George when we had the chance.”

“Me, too. I’ve never had more than meaningless sex. I don’t even know what it feels like to make love to someone. You’re the only woman I could experience that with. In ten years, I’ve had a lot of time to imagine what it would be like.” He stared off and slowly shook his head with an indignant look. “It should have been me. I should have been your first…but I’d rather be your last.”

“Mitch…”

His eyes darkened as he moved closer to me, just inches from my lips and said, “He’s not giving you what you need. I can feel it.” I was dying to kiss him, my breathing completely out of control. After a few seconds, he turned around and grabbed his keys off the counter. “I think it’s time for me to go.”

My underwear was completely soaked as I imagined him backing me against the counter and wrapping my legs around him as he pounded into me. I was throbbing between my legs. The look on his face was an expression of the same hunger I was feeling. I wanted him to touch me. I couldn’t ask him to because I knew where it would lead, and I didn’t want to cheat on Kevin, but I still needed to hear it like my life depended on it. “What would it be like?”

He stood still, staring at the ground with his keys in his hands. “I don’t think I could be gentle.”

My body was humming with an uncontrollable yearning. “What would you do to me?”

“Remember what I said earlier tonight?”

“Not to ask you a question if I don’t want the honest answer.”

“You still want to know what I would do to you?”

I was like someone who chooses to take drugs for the first time. You know full well the repercussions, but you say yes anyway. I nodded.

Mitch looked down at my shorts and asked a question he likely already knew the answer to. “Are you wet right now?”

My eyes were half-closed as I leaned my back against the counter. My voice was barely audible. “Yes.”

“You want the honest answer? Baby, words can’t do justice to what I would do to your body. I’m not going to tell you. I want to show you…when you ask me to.” He exited the kitchen and opened the front door. He took a few steps toward his car, his feet crunching in the gravel before he turned around. “And Skylar? Restraint is the best foreplay.”

CHAPTER 27

MITCH

My morning wood was worse than usual. That didn’t surprise me, considering I also woke up in the middle of the night with a wet dream. The years of celibacy were catching up to me all at once. When I got back to my hotel last night, I was like a rock star going off on a bender after five years of sobriety. I guess I was more like a c**k star, since my drug of choice seemed to be jerking off repeatedly to thoughts of her.

My plan to weaken her resistance had worked. The problem was, I wasn’t keeping up my end of the deal: no touching. Even when she had rubbed the sunscreen on my back earlier in the day, I kept my hands off of her.

It became exceedingly more difficult not to touch her once we started playing around at the beach. Still, I hadn’t lost control until I started massaging her feet by the fire. I had gotten the sudden urge to kiss them and work my way up the rest of her body. I stopped it before my fantasy became a reality. Taking the next step was Skylar’s decision to make, not mine. My job was to make her see that I was the right decision.

One good thing from last night: she finally admitted that she wasn’t happy with him. Normally, that would have been grounds for a celebratory dance. But she followed it up with a major downer when she said it was more important to feel safe than happy. Screw that. If she continued to let her mind win over her heart, I stood to lose everything.

Her eyes confused me the most. They were basically commanding me to bend her over and f**k her hard. In all the years I’d known her, I’d never seen anything like it. It was proof he wasn’t giving her what she needed. She practically begged me to tell her what I’d do to her like her next breath depended on it. Dirty. Needless to say, that nearly put me over the edge, which was why I had to get the hell out of there.

I emerged from the bathroom after my cold, morning shower. Instrumental music from the Weather Channel forecast played on the television. I dialed my mother before heading to the house for our last day of hard labor.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Hi, honey. Is everything okay? You sound upset.”

“It’s going alright. Skylar’s a confused mess. Nothing is going to get resolved on this trip.”

“I hope you’re prepared if things don’t go your way.”

“Look, I wasn’t calling to discuss it. I just want to talk to Henry. Is he up?”

“Sure, I’ll put him on.”

I could hear the noises from his iPad, so I knew he was on the phone.

I lay back on the bed with a big smile. “Hey, buddy. It’s Daddy. I miss you.”