Page 55 of The Sound of Us

“I’m glad to hear you’re finally making friends,” he said with a grin. “But no more fighting in the playground.”

“Fuck off, Noah.”

He laughed and I realized I hadn’t heard him laugh like that in a very long time.

Midterms kept Skye and me apart for the next four days. We messaged constantly and shared our study playlists. I preferred chill or instrumental beats. Skye listened to Spanish flamenco guitar. I don’t know why it surprised me. She was a woman of hidden depths. Of course, it didn’t stop me from dragging her about it. Seriously? Spanish guitar?

She showed up at the station on Wednesday in a pair of tight black leggings and a form-fitting running jacket for a quick lesson on how to use the sound board. Chad was already in front of the mic with the headphones on, listening to himself croon “Blue Suede Shoes.”

“I’m planning to go for a run when we’re done and I didn’t want to waste time going home to change,” she said when I couldn’t tear my gaze away.

“Very commendable.” I tried to think about baseball and grades and things that didn’t involve Skye in tight clothes. “We like healthy interns at the station.”

“And interns like healthy bosses.” She licked her lips, and I felt every stroke of her tongue as a bolt of heat in my groin. “Maybeyou should take up swimming. I noticed they had Speedos for sale in the athletic center.”

“Naughty,” I muttered under my breath. “This is a workplace. No suggestive licking of lips or inappropriate imagery allowed.”

“I thought you liked naughty,” she whispered when Chad was looking the other way. “Or is that not what you want?”

What I wanted was to get Skye alone again. What I wanted was my hands on her body and her lips pressed against mine. What I wanted was to take her home so I could spend another night with her, but this time in my bed. Instead, I had to deal with switches and microphones, sensors and headsets.

After I explained all the equipment and showed them how to cue up their music, Skye practiced with a pre-taped podcast and Chad did a fake live staring at his reflection in the glass as he reported about a bar fight that ended in a local man sprawled on the ground with a broken nose, all because he’d been hustled at pool.

“How did you learn to fight like that?” Chad asked, taking off his headphones. “You had that guy down in three seconds flat and you didn’t even break a sweat. You should join the wrestling team.”

“Jiu-jitsu. I’ve also done some karate and boxing. I’ve never been into team sports.” Team sports required parental involvement. They meant using team locker rooms where you couldn’t hide your bruises. They meant leaving your little sister alone for hours at a time.

“I can see that,” Skye said. “You’re more of a lone wolf type.”

“It sounds like you’ve given that considerable thought.” I liked the idea that she’d been thinking of me even though we hadn’t seen each other for almost a week.

“Are you fishing for compliments?”

“I don’t have to. The compliments write themselves.”

Skye lifted an eyebrow. “And there’s that ego we’ve heard so much about.”

And there was the woman who kept slipping past my walls. I pulled up Duran Duran’s “Hungry Like the Wolf” from the musicdatabase on the screen. Moments later the room was filled with the polished keyboards and powerful guitar riffs of the 1980s pop sensation. Over the years, people had debated the meaning of the song, but at its essence it was about a guy who wanted to get it on with a girl. Skye looked over at me and laughed.

“Why don’t you do a few more mock broadcasts,” I said to Chad. “I need to get Skye’s opinion on something.”

“What is it?” Skye asked, half jogging to keep up with my strides as I slammed open the station door and led her partway down the storage room hallway.

“This.” I took her hands and pressed her palms to my face. I needed her touch, her lips, her eyes on me like I needed to breathe. I wanted to feel her, connect. I needed to know that the other night had been real.

“My opinion is ten out of ten. Highly recommend.” She pressed her lips to my neck, and then we were clutching at each other, arms and hands and mouths and tongues until we were so close, we were like one person, not two.

“I missed you.” I rested my forehead against hers, our lips close enough to touch.

“We message or video every day.”

“It’s not the same.” I breathed in the scent of her hair, pressed my cheek against her temple. I didn’t understand this, the naked need, the all-consuming want. I felt raw, exposed, adrift for the first time since Noah saved me. I usually pushed people away. I didn’t know how to keep them.

Her mouth softened in a smile, and she rubbed her nose against mine, her lips one breath away. I could smell her; feel her pressed against me. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Relief crashed over me like a tidal wave of emotion so fierce I thought I would crack in half.

“God, Skye—” I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her. Touching. Tasting. Harder. Deeper. With a fervent, urgent need I’d never known before. I broke for air and buried my lips in her neck, feathering kisses over her collarbone, her chin, and cheeks.She tasted like rain and sunshine. My heart was pounding against my chest. I thought I might explode.

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