"Yep," Sky reaffirms, pretending to flick imaginary lint off her shoulder.
"What she’d do, call you by payphone? Your cell was sitting on the table the entire time."
Sky's eyes grow wide and frantic. She stabs at her salad, shoveling a huge bite of lettuce into her mouth so she doesn't have to respond.
Daisy beams, throwing me a complicit smirk and a knowing wink to boot. If I didn’t already fucking adore my stepsister before, I do more now, seeing as she doesn't seem upset about this new development in the least. Then again, Daisy had a front row seat to my goddamn misery for the past seven years. Even though she’s repeatedly reminded me that I was the one who fucked up, I know she wants to see me happy.
But most importantly, she wants Sky to be happy.
Unfortunately for me, rocking her world in the bathroom didn’t have the effect I wanted since Sky becomes awfully quiet for the rest of the meal, while the rest of the table chats.
Once our meal is over and done with, we walk outside under the hot sun, and I tangle my hands with Skylar’s, not giving a fuck who sees. I just need to touch her, keep her by my side.
My tense muscles instantly relax when she doesn’t pull her hand away, and instead tightens her hold on me.
It's amazing how the world seems to have changed now that she's let me at least a little back in. The sky seems brighter, the sun more intense. The colors are exaggerated, like some kind of Disney movie. It's all because the thick fog of sadness that I've lived with all these years has finally started to lift.
I can’t imagine what the world's gonna look like when she lets me all the way in.
I'm a fucking simp, and I couldn't care less. I sneak a kiss on her cheek and she gives me a cute, chastising glare. I just smile at her gleefully, emotion stirring inside me when I see her look soften.
I'll make you so happy, I promise.
After all these years, I kind of believe it. I never thought that I was good enough for Skylar. And that’s still a universal truth.
But I also know that my girl’s been miserable all these years too, and maybe, it's because I’m the only one for some reason that can make her happy.
Or at least that's the mantra I'm going with.
Whether it's true or not, it's going to bemytruth from here on out.
And I’m going to spend the rest of the day trying to do just that.
Chapter Nineteen
Skylar
“We really should do something about this hair. Maybe after I come back from Daisy’s bachelorette party tonight, I’ll give it the cut it deserves,” I coo, running my fingers through Noah’s long locks, as his head remains perfectly nestled on top of my bare chest. “I doubt the Monroes would appreciate you showing up at the wedding with this lion’s mane. Not exactly wedding album material.”
“I could care less what they think, but if you don’t like it, then why wait for tonight? Maybe after today’s race, you can give me a cut,” he drawls, kissing the swell of my breast. “I’m good with whatever you want.”
I try to ignore the warmth that spreads over my body with how willing he is to submit to anything I ask.
Truth be told, I love Noah’s hair just the way it is. Wild and free, just like him.
It reminds me of better days.
It reminds me of a life I thought I’d have.
“Speaking of the race,” I gruffly choke out, needing to move our conversation onto a safer topic than his hair, “shouldn’t you have left by now? I’m sure there are many things you need to do to prepare for such a big event.”
“All taken care of.” I feel him smile onto my skin. “I’d rather spend the last few hours I have in bed with you than anywhere else.”
That stupid warm feeling spreads through every limb in my body again, making sure to tug at my heartstrings. So much so, that I start to shift from under him, preparing myself to make a quick getaway before my heart begins to believe things that aren’t there.
“I will not be responsible for you losing this race because you preferred to have a lazy morning in bed. Derrick would kill me,” I joke, but Noah is having none of it, lifting himself just enough to plant his palms on each side of my face on the pillow, trapping me with his strong masculine body as it hovers over mine.
“Don’t even think about it. You’re not going anywhere.” He throws me a mischievous smile. “Not until I get my fill.”