Page 49 of When Sky Breaks
Johnny’s working at the hospital for the rest of the day, and the fact that I’m relieved should give me pause. I should want him around. I should want to see him. But when he’s here, he dictates everything with Foster as if my experience as a nurse doesn’t matter. Then he laces it with some sweet compliment. It leaves me confused.
Then there’s August. Our conversation left a lot to be picked apart and where we go from that is as much up in the air as the clouds.
A noise from the backyard stalls the cup at my mouth. “What’s that?”
The sound repeats and I walk over to the back door, looking over my shoulder at Foster as he smiles behind his soda can. “Oh. That’s just August.”
I sputter and spin all the way around. “What? Why?”
He shrugs and tosses his empty can into the trash. “I asked him to. Trek is gone, and I need those deck boards replaced outside before winter sets in. Any snow we get will bow them further and break down the joists underneath. Best to stay on top of these things.”
I snap my mouth closed and listen as the rhythmic thunk of a hammer reverberates just a few feet away. I refuse to look through the blinds.
“I’m going to take that nap now.” He presses a kiss to my head as he passes me. “Wake me if you need anything.”
Need anything? How about a sedative? Preferably strong.
I stalk down the hall to my room and lean against my door after I shut it. The sounds of August hammering are louder in here. Shit. My room faces the backyard.
With Foster not feeling well, it’s not like I can just leave and go anywhere that’s not in the same place as August. He’s everywhere all over this town. Snaps, the bookstore, the coffee shop, the haunted house, my damn neighborhood—there’s no escaping him or the memories he evokes.
Annoyed, I sit in the middle of my bed and attempt to read a book. No use. After every whack of a hammer or thunk of wood, I’m reminded all over again.
Well, since I can’t avoid him…
I reach for my phone and pull up a search engine. I’ll just do some internet stalking. Just because.
I type in his full name, fully expecting not to find anything. He’s always been pretty isolated from the rest of the world.
Holy shit.
The search results stun me. They reveal August did very well for himself out in California. National Geographic worthy. He’s been on podcasts, had interviews with magazines, and was a guest appearance at a conference.
I enlarge several award-winning pictures and slump back onto my pillows. God, these are gorgeous.
As if you had any doubts, he’s always been talented.
No wonder he could take over Snaps for Colonel and build a house all before he turned twenty-five.
There’s no mention of a girlfriend on any of his social media profiles, and I don’t acknowledge how relieved that makes me. He could be private about her and it really doesn’t matter, anyway.
The sounds stop outside, and I freeze. Is he leaving?
Turning my phone off, I scoot to the edge of my bed and stand, hesitating for a second before pulling aside my curtains.
August’s back is to me, his black T-shirt lifted as he wipes his brow, showing a taut strip of his skin. The elastic of his boxer briefs peeks out from the top of his jeans molded to his tight ass. It’s enough to heat my cheeks, but I don’t look away.
He’s surveying the deck, his hands now on his hips, his long fingers splayed across the belt of his ripped jeans. For a man with a decent amount of money, he doesn’t flaunt it. You’d never know it by looking at him now. He’s still humble despite growing up poor.
I can’t help but compare him to Johnny. Johnny probably dreams in dollar signs, snoring out stock market increases and multi-million dollar cancer treatments. August is…just August. Working at the local camera shop when he probably doesn’t need to work at all. Replacing deck boards like it’s a normal thing to do on a Saturday at his ex’s house.
Why would Foster ask him over knowing how I feel about all this?
August shifts and turns around as if he felt me staring. A lock of his hair falls forward, and he smooths it back, his gaze probing. My chest rises and falls with choppy breaths.
Those ridiculous eyes of his have always been fathomless. They know too much. Have witnessed the darkest parts of me. Raked over me like hot coals in this very bedroom. Seen me at my best. Held so much compassion as I dealt with the effects of my biological father’s abuse. Yet I didn’t see the truth in them. I was truly blinded by love.
A small smile tugs at his lips, and I snap from my thoughts. Scowling, I yank my curtains together and close my eyes as I fist the material in my hands.