Page 48 of Wild Eyes
“We do.”
Annoyed by the fact West isn’t the least bit put off by this conversation, I drop the cans on the table. “You’re nice to her.”
“Why wouldn’t I be? She’s my kids’ mom. I’d be a royal dick if I wasn’t.”
I blink, instantly feeling like a total asshole for suggesting otherwise.
“So why did you split up?”
His head wobbles back and forth as he spins the pint glass between his hands and contemplates my question. “I think mostly because we weren’t good friends.”
I scoff and reach for my glass of wine. “Oh good, more friend talk.”
“No, no. It’s like…I think if you’re going to be in a solid relationship with someone, you need to be friends on some level. Like…enjoy each other’s company. You know? My parents are so solid that way. They bicker with each other, but at the end of the day, there’s no one they’d rather bicker with. Ford and Rosie are the same. Those two were peas in a pod before they even realized they were in the same pod.”
That makes me smile. I could see their connection, and I barely know them.
West reaches up and scratches at the back of his neck. “Mia and I…we didn’t enjoy each other’s company. She wanted the full domestic experience. Wanted me to work nine-to-five, not doing night checks at 11 p.m. She wanted to be in bed by 8 p.m. so we could watch sitcoms together. And me? I dunno. I wanted every day to be different. I got bored too easily. And when I get bored, I get destructive.”
I laugh. “That explains all the broken noses.”
That gets me a grin, but he keeps going.
“She wanted boring. That’s where the joke about Boring Brandon was born. And it is a joke—he’s a great guy. Perfect for her. It’s like we both knew we were incompatible, but we both liked kids. Making them. Raising them. Figured we’d try that again to see if it helped. But it turns out that babies don’t fix what’s already broken.”
He chuckles and takes another swig of his beer before leaning back, resting his hands on the arms of the chair, and looking out over the water. “The upside is, she’s a great mom and I respect the hell out of her. Not many people could co-parent the way we do. But dear god, please don’t make me stay home and play Scrabble in my matching Christmas jammies beneath the sign on the mantel that saysLive Laugh Love.”
An unladylike snort bursts from me at the visual he just gave me. Strong enough that it makes my eyes sting because my nose fuckinghurts.
“Ow,” I rasp as I reach for the cans again, sighing when their chill presses against my face. “Well, if you could share this wisdom with my parents, that would be great.”
“Your parents?”
“Yeah, this is not public knowledge yet, but they’re getting a divorce. A messy vicious one.”
“I’m sorry, Skylar.” And he means it. His voice—so often teasing—brims with sincerity.
I shrug. “It’s about time. If your theory about friendship is right. It’s been over for a long time—they can’t stand each other. When I said I needed a breather and to get out of town, my mom announced she needed the same and took off to Aruba to ‘decompress’ or something. She really only communicates through her lawyer because she ends up throwing shit if she’s in the same room as my dad. And my dad is fixated only on keeping as much money to himself as possible so he’s no better.”
“Then what’s kept them together?”
“Me.”
West nods. “Never understood the concept of staying together for the kids. I’d rather my kids see me happy alone than miserable with their mom.”
My responding laugh is bitter. “That’s sound logic. But it’s not what I meant.” I peek around the dock from beneath the brim of my sweet new hat to make sure no one is watching or listening to us. “If this is all over the news tomorrow, I’ll know it was you.”
West’s cheek pops like he’s irritated by my implication, but where I’m from, information is power. And I’m not sure I’m ready for this to break yet.
“What I meant was that they stuck together for me, as in…Skylar Stone Incorporated.”
His brows draw together.
“Turns out all the money I made—and the rights I thought were mine from work I did as a minor—are held in a business that I only own a tiny percentage of. And most of it is tied up in divorce proceedings now, hence falling behind on the boyfriend payments.”
I smile, but it’s flat and feral. Like a wolf showing its teeth.
West gives me a blank stare. His jaw pops.
