Page 111 of When Sky Breaks
I cross the room and pick them up, the manilla files crisp as if they’ve never been opened.
Perhaps it should stay that way.
Come on, Sky. It’s now or never.
I flick one open and immediately close it. Not tonight. Not when I feel so good about my future with August. I want to sit with that a little longer.
Soon. I’ll open them soon.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
august
If it was up to me, I’d have moved Sky into my house yesterday. As it stands, she’s over almost every day, so I really should make it a permanent arrangement.
Win-win if you ask me.
I’m about to suggest this very thing when she speaks first.
“I want to meet your mom. Well, re-meet her under different circumstances,” Sky says right after I’ve unbuttoned her flannel shirt and palmed her tit.
She’s splayed out on the bed under me, her blonde hair barely contained in a messy bun and her eyes hazy with lust. Desire I put there.
Best way to lose a boner? Have the love of your life talk about your mom.
Despite that, I laugh and remove my hand, sitting back on my heels while her legs bracket my hips. “And you’re thinking about this while my hand is on your boob because?”
“Never mind.” She shoves one of my hands down her pants.
“It doesn’t work that way, Shortcake. Talk to me.”
She sighs and lets go of my hands but doesn’t close her shirt. That’s distracting, but I make it a point to focus on her face instead. At the worry creasing her eyes and the shadows I know are roaming inside her head.
“I found a file with my mom’s name on it in Foster’s office and I haven’t been able to look at it. All these questions are driving me crazy.”
I grab my shirt, but she stops me. “Don’t put that back on. Once we’re done talking, we’re still having sex.”
A laugh rumbles in my chest, and I comply, tossing it over my shoulder. “Better?”
“Yes. Now, where was I? Oh. Yeah. Can I please go with you the next time you talk to her? If I don’t, I’m afraid I’ll chicken out altogether.”
I’ve never been able to resist her pleas. They pound at my chest until I give in. Guilt also gouges at me. It’s always the fucking guilt.
“What if the things she says hurts you? I hate seeing you upset over her. If I had known what your mom looked like, maybe I could’ve done something different. I could’ve, I don’t know, talk to her about what’s going on and maybe she would’ve been a better mom?”
What if Sky blames me all over again?
Then you fight like hell for her and fix it.
She closes her eyes and nods, opening them a moment later, squeezing the hands I have gripping her hips. “But you didn’t know. Again, you were twelve. Dannie worked at the bars, so there’s no way you would’ve known what she looked like. She slept during the day, and I’d be the one watching Chase when my dad was drunk. But I need to do this. I have to know.” She pushes me to recline on the mattress as she sits and straddles my lap, threading her fingers through my hair.
Really hard to concentrate when she does that, but I force my attention on her pretty eyes as if they’re any less distracting and settle my hands around her, rubbing circles on her lower back muscles.
There’s a desperation on her face, the unhinged need to have the answers, to pry apart her past and find the whys. If I can help her do that, then I’ll never stand in her way, no matter if it pits her against me again.
In the end, she’s all I care about. Not myself, not my own sense of self-preservation. It’s always been about taking care of her. The twenty-five-year-old August isn’t that much different from the twelve-year-old one who’d drop anything and everything for Sky Winters.
“Then read the file, baby. Read it with me if you need to. And yes, we’ll go talk to my mom. You deserve some answers, and I’ll be there for you when you get them.” I kiss her, gripping her at the base of her head. Hard, then soft. Reminding her I’ll do what I can to move mountains for her.