Page 62 of Wild Eyes
“Skylar, there is no relationship.”
Her eyes take a tour up near her brows. “Oh, sure. Your friend-with-benefits came over to your house to check on you because there is no relationship.Right.” Her head shakes like she’s disappointed. “You’re so damn likable, West. But that shit isn’t.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I hold a hand up and turn to place the lasagna on the deck chair. “You think…” I step closer to her. “You think she came over to?—”
“Benefit,” she fills in, chin tipped up. “Which is great. I’m so thrilled for you.” She nods vigorously, though her tone isn’t as convincing as she may think. “I hope you are getting all the bene?—”
“I broke it off with her.”
Her verbal tangent comes to a screeching halt. “You what?”
“I ended the benefits. She may have been the one to end the friend part. We might be enemies-with-no-benefits now.”
Skylar’s eyes search my face. The makeup she’s wearing today doesn’t entirely cover the bruising, but it’s better than it was. I hope she’s been icing it. “When?”
“When what?”
“When did you end it?”
“After the pub. The night your phone met its end. I called her from my truck. You sprinted away to the bunkhouse like I had a contagious disease, so I called her. Then, when I was coming here to apologize about the phone, I heard you screaming.”
Her brows draw together, and a look of concentration takes over her face. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why then? Why make the call then?”
I shift uncomfortably, weighing how I want to answer this question. Deciding how honest I want to be. Wondering if I’ve even completely figured it out myself.
Do I tell her I didn’t like the way her face fell when I told her about my current relationship status? Do I tell her I want to be free in every way the next time she decides to kiss me? Do I tell her I want there to be a next time?
Or do I just sayfuck itand kiss her myself?
I move incrementally closer.
But then stop.
I think about everything she’s been through—everything that the people she trusted have taken from her. I don’t want to be another person who takes more than she has to give. And I don’t want to rush with her. Not when we’re both still so clearly tangled up.
So I tell her something that’s true.
“Because I had a good reason to.”
A flush paints her cheeks and her gaze searches every corner of my face for some hint of a lie.
Then her voice comes out a bit wobbly as she lets me down easy.
“I’m going to pass on dinner…but save me a piece. I don’t like the idea of today being the lowest point in your life.” She steps back to shut the door. But not before adding, “And ruining a metabolism likethatwould be a damn shame.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SKYLAR
BREAKING NEWS: Weston Belmont eats entire lasagna and ruins his metabolism. Sources say it’s all Skylar Stone’s fault.
I sitacross from Ford on Monday morning, still chuckling over the fake headline West sent me this morning. We’re on the leather couches that frame the open living space in the office. This corner of the office is lined with shelves that are full to the brim with a variety of vinyl records.
“Let’s talk about the album.”
