Page 8 of Just Watch Me

Skylar blinked a couple of times, and the heat cleared. “Great. I don’t really know anyone in town besides my coworkers, and I spend enough time with them already. It’d be nice to have some good company.”

It was the most we’d ever spoken, and he’d already categorized me as good company. He must really be hard up.

“Come to my place, and we’ll get delivery?” he asked.

“Sure.”

He unlocked the main entrance to our building. “Do you need to swing by your place first?”

“No, I’m good.” I paused as my brain worked overtime.Is that his way of saying he needs a breather?“Unless you need some time first?”

Skylar offered a lopsided smile. “If I needed some time, I’d tell you. Don’t worry.”

The tone of his voice made thatveryclear, and I liked itverymuch. With so many friends and even my few brief relationships, I’d ended up guessing at what they wanted most of the time. I couldn’t blame them, though, because I wasn’t the best about speaking my mind either. Someone who said what they meant and meant what they said was incredibly refreshing but also terrifying.

“How long have you lived in the building?” he asked as we climbed the stairs.

I shamelessly stared at his ass in the fitted pants while I had the chance.

“A few years. I hadn’t planned to stay here this long, but Portland is expensive. I like being this close to the MAX, but I’d prefer to have an actual bedroom someday.”

Skylar’s chuckle was husky. “That’s no fun.” He looked over his shoulder and winked.

My steps faltered.Is he inviting me over to fuck? Surely not.Since we were basically colleagues for the time being, he wouldn’t even consider me an option. Not that I had really been one to begin with. He’d simply seized an opportunity.

That thought soured my stomach. I hadn’t expected our little mutual show, let alone anything else, but since I had to work with him, the thought of watching him bring home a fresh random that weekend didn’t spark joy. Not because I had a claim on him or anything—he deserved an amazing sex life—but my envy might eat me alive.And what the hell is that about?Despite barely knowing the guy, my brain had latched on to him and sent all my teenage crush reserves his way.Poor Skylar.

“Did you relocate here for work?” I asked as he opened the door to his floor.

“Sort of. My work keeps me traveling and moving around regularly. I follow the projects. Sometimes, I’m in a city for six to twelve months if we have back-to-back clients in the same place. Other times, I’m around for a few weeks to a couple of months.”

I opened my mouth to ask which one Portland was, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer. He’d been there for three weeks already, so if it was the latter, that meant he wouldn’t be around much longer. If he had multiple projects in Portland, he might be around long enough for me to get used to him only to have him leave.

Be careful who you get close with, honey. People leave. Friends come and go, but your family will always be here.My mom’s voice was clear in my mind.

I hated to admit she was right. The few people I’d gotten close to in high school had scattered off to college. Same with my few college friends. It was easier to make online friendships because it didn’t hurt as much when they fizzled out.

“That sounds like exciting work.”

“It can be.” He stopped at his door and let out a breath. “It is. It’s what I wanted.”

Something about his tone sparked a dozen questions I had no right to ask, so I went with an easy one. “You wanted to travel a lot?”

I followed him into his apartment. It smelled like his cologne and citrus cleaner. In all the times I’d accidentally—and intentionally—looked into his space, I hadn’t noticed much beyond the man.Who could blame me?It was clean and minimally decorated with a full-sized bed, couch, and a television on a short stand. Very few personal items beyond a framed photo, of who I assumed to be him and his parents in front of a castle, next to his TV. All the furnishings appeared to be new.

“Yeah.” His tone sounded a little weary. “My dad was in the military, and we traveled often when I was a kid. I guess I got used to it to a point that now I can’t imagine what it’s like to settle in one place.”

“Do you live somewhere between your work trips?”

He shook his head as he took off his jacket and hung it on the freestanding rack holding his clothes. “I don’t have a permanent address. My dad is still in the military, and my parents are currently stationed in Germany, so there’s no family home. I have a storage unit with some stuff in Palo Alto, where Hawthorne Consulting is based. I have to fly back there regularly enough that it makes sense to swap out summer clothes for winter stuff, depending on where my next job is. If I have a gap between jobs, I just stay in the last place longer and explore or go to the next place early.”

I couldn’t imagine that kind of life. For as frustrating as my parents’ overprotectiveness could be, at least I knew I could always go back there—to live, for laundry, or have a home-cooked meal. Picking up my winter coats required an hour’s drive, not a flight to another state.

“I can’t imagine traveling,” I said impulsively.

He gave me an encouraging smile then opened his fridge and held up two beers.

I nodded. “I’ve lived in Oregon my entire life. I moved to Portland for college, but I haven’t really traveled much. I’d like to, but I’ve never even been on a plane. It kinda terrifies me.”

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