Page List

Font Size:

As the night drew on, we drank and laughed. Food was ordered partway through—typical bar food of nachos with processed cheese and pizza that had no doubt been frozen prior to reaching our table. It helped sop up some of the booze before we drank more.

With the warm buzz of alcohol in my veins, I felt relaxed. Kind of happy too.

Skyler pushed his chair back from the table and tipped his beer back, chugging the rest of the bottle. He then tossed me a lopsided grin. “Fuck it. I’m gonna go for it.”

“Go for what?” I asked.

He left the table and approached the bar with a confident swagger. I watched as he then leaned across the counter to speak with Jovie.

There was an instant pang in my chest, one that plummeted to my gut. Was that what he’d meant by “go for it”? To flirt with her? Well, Skylerwasbisexual. And Jovie was pretty.

Suddenly, the warmth in my veins turned to ice. I wanted to leave. To go home. Why had I ever thought it was a good ideato let myself get close to someone? I should’ve known by now it would only lead to disappointment. However, the ache twisting through me went deeper than disappointment.

Seeing Skyler flirting with someone else was like a knife to the fucking heart. Even worse? He didn’t give two shits about doing it right in front of me.

“Hey, you okay?” Taylor asked.

The backs of my eyes stung. “I… I think I’m gonna go.” I stood from the table a bit too fast, and the room spun a little.

Skyler caught me around the waist to steady me. “Easy there, hot stuff.”

“Let me go.” I pulled away. “I’m going home.”

He brought me right back. “You can’t leave yet, or you’ll miss it.”

“Miss what?” I asked with an unintentional hiss in my voice. “You flirting with the cute bartender? I’ll pass, thanks.”

Confusion marred his features. “Flirt with… what are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb,” I said. “You wanted to ‘go for it.’ Looks like you had no trouble doing so. Right in front of me too. God, I’m such an idiot. I actually thought this meant more to you. ThatImeant more. But you don’t—”

“Pax?” He cupped the side of my neck. The soft smile on his lips veered on sad. “I wasn’t flirting with Jovie. I was asking her permission.”

Okay, that took me off guard. “Permission for what?”

“Sit back down, and I’ll show you.” Skyler guided me back to my chair and placed a light kiss to my lips. “Don’t take those pretty eyes off me, ’kay?”

I was confused as he left the table again. Julian caught my eye and offered a small smile. The top of my scalp prickled as I realized just how wrong I’d been. I had let my insecurities ruleme and thought the worst of him without even second-guessing it.

Skyler approached the stage and removed the acoustic guitar from the black case leaning against the wall. He sat on the stool and fiddled with the tuning pegs—or whatever the hell they were called. I didn’t speak “guitar.” He strummed once, and the truckers turned on their barstools to look at him.

I watched him too. I couldn’t look away even if my life depended on it.

“Evening,” Skyler said. There wasn’t a microphone set up, but the sound carried in the small bar. “I’m Skyler Knox, and I’m gonna play a few songs for you.”

“If you suck, I’m kicking you off my stage,” Jovie called from the bar.

Laughs rumbled around the room.

“This is a cover of one of my favorite songs,” Skyler continued after the chuckles died down, his included. “It’s called ‘The Night We Met.’”

His fingers plucked at the strings in a steady rhythm, and he smiled to himself, as if a bit shy. And then he started to sing.

Dear god, I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. I could only listen. His voice had a smokiness to it, just as I’d picked up on before, but there was a soulfulness too, one that had every person in that bar captivated.

Julian stood from his chair and walked to the edge of the stage, aiming his phone at Skyler. Recording him like a proud brother? Judging by his watery smile as he watched Skyler, I suspected it was something he’d wanted Skyler to do for a while.

“Holy crap, that boy can sing,” Taylor whispered. “And he thought he was just a pretty face. Pfft.”