Page 32 of Handling Skylar
“I’m not going home,” I mumbled.
“It’s not far—”
“No,” I said emphatically, my speech slurred. I couldn’t face my parents—my daddy—like this. I closed my eyes again, drifting a bit.
“Oh, no you don’t. Come on. Look at me, Jake.” She sounded more worried than before, like she wanted to wrap me up and keep me safe. I opened my eyes, and she was even closer than she’d been before, almost on top of me, leaning over me. She slipped her hand under my head and said, “Come on. We’re going to get in my, car and I’ll take you to my place.”
I was sure I wasn’t moving, but I tried. “Jake?” She sounded more than worried, like she was edging toward panic. That was no good. “Jake, please try. Can you sit up. I cannot lift all this gorgeous muscle. So please help me.”
She sounded so troubled, and I hated that I was causing her worry. Wait, did she just call me gorgeous? My brain might have been too addled to hear that right. I used my elbows to push myself up and then just stared at her.
She was looking at me so intensely, her dark brows bunching together over her stunning, variegated eyes. I got a little lost. Her lashes were thick and as dark as her brows, her full lips so tantalizingly close, the whole of her so creamy and lovely, my heart broke again, right there on the spot.
Releasing a heavy sigh, I reached up and put my hand over hers, where her palm was so warm on my chest.
“I’m okay, just tired, hungry, sore and stupid,” I whispered.
“You’re not stupid, Jake,” she whispered back.
“You’re so beautiful,” I said, going all stupid again.
She looked truly startled for a minute then snapped out of it as she worked to get her arm under my back, tugging. “Come on. The car is very close.”
I got into a sitting position and then to my knees. She was still standing close to me like she was worried I would fall over. I looked at her, knowing that I wasn’t going to make it easily to my feet. Without a word, she moved to my side and wrapped her arm around my waist, the scent of her bursting in the air around me like fireworks.
Finally I got to my feet and we staggered to her car, and I managed to get myself into the passenger seat. I leaned my head back as she started the car and it started to move.
“You know that alcohol never helps. It only makes you sick and more depressed.”
“Now, you tell me. Where were you hours ago when Jack came knocking?”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to take you home?”
“Yes, more than sure. I can get out if you want.”
“No, Jake. You have anyone you want me to call?”
I rubbed at my temple and shook my head, then thought better of it as it sent me into a dizzy spiral. “No. I only want you.”
The next thing I knew, she was shaking me and I was trying to stay conscious for the time it took for us to get out of the car and up some stairs. I had the glimpse of a living room and then was reeling into a room with a bed. When I tried to fold down onto it, she said, “Oh, no way. You’re a mess.” She dragged me into the bathroom and propped me against the wall as she turned on the shower. I couldn’t stand up. There was no way I was going to get into something that was wet and slippery unless it was her.
I groaned and she turned to me and suddenly I was looking up at her. “Oh, shoot,” she said softly and turned off the water. She knelt down and was all business. She pulled my T-shirt off over my head and then, with an economy of movement, got my pants off. I was almost gone by this point. The feel of a wet soapy cloth traveled over my face and neck, wetting my hair, the air of the room feeling cool against my moist, heated skin.
I felt movement and then the cloth was back over my shoulders, arms, and torso.
“Geez Louise,” I heard her whisper under her breath as the cloth bumped over my abdomen, then after a slight pause over my legs. Then it was a quick rinse and towel dry.
“Jake,” she said, rousing me as she pressed two tablets into my hand. “Take these and drink this.”
I popped the pills into my mouth and downed the water like I’d been in the desert for days. “More, I said softly as she placed a toothbrush in my hand. I did my best with it, spitting into the toilet and then downing the second glass she gave me.
Then she was helping me up and I was sliding onto a soft mattress between cool sheets and it was lights out.
***
It was dark when I woke up, totally out of it and totally unsure as to where I was. There was enough ambient light from the crack in the bathroom door to illuminate the woman sleeping beside me. For a moment, I thought I was dreaming. Sky? What was she doing in my bed…then I remembered the night, the ride here, the way she’d washed me, her touch so tender and slow. My heart rolled over and even though I’d only interacted with this woman a few times in my life, I felt a sensation, a rush of emotion so strong it swamped me. I moved because I needed to feel her arms around me. I needed her comfort and solace. Something that I believed only she could give me in this moment. It wasn’t planned, it wasn’t calculated, it was based on a deep-seated need in me to connect to her.
She stirred, her eyes sleepy, her body a solid presence, with her cloud of tangled hair and her mouth parting. I vowed I wasn’t going to kiss her. I should have reconsidered, should have backed off, but I didn’t. I reached for her instead.
