Page 52 of When Sky Breaks
I whip my head in his direction, and he hikes a broad shoulder. “My dad died. Heart attack in his sleep a few months ago. And ever since, I’ve been trying to work things out with my mom because she doesn’t have anyone. As you can imagine, it’s not going very well.”
A surge of annoyance on his behalf bubbles up. “I’m sorry to hear about your dad, but they abandoned you. You don’t owe her anything.” Then I see the tightness around his eyes and I deflate. “But I get it. She’s your mom.”
Hearing about her brings up emotions I’ve been trying to avoid. His mom knew my mom. Does she still know her? Do I even want to know? At least he still has one he can make amends with.
Who knows where my mom ended up. I’ve dealt with it the best way I can, but not always in the best manner. Perhaps if she was still here, I’d have someone to help me navigate this growing tension with August.
I laugh to myself. Yeah, right. Moments spent with her were not warm and fuzzy. She could barely spare me a hug.
However, as a kid, the man in front of me offered me his arms as a place for shelter. Hard to forget those times we spent huddled in the shack, doing our best to erase the pain of the outside world.
That’s what makes this hurt so much.
August notices my discomfort and shuts down the conversation. “Doesn’t matter. I’m sorry I brought her up, and I’m sorry I was a dick earlier.”
After a brief pause, he stands and grabs the screwdriver and a fan blade, putting us back into this awkward silence.
I watch him from my place on the couch as he finishes replacing the fan. Even when he turns the power on and tests the fan, I examine him in a slightly different light as he admires his work.
He’s complex. Spends his time with my dad, fixing things around the house with no ulterior motive other than to help. Reconciling with his mom despite the hell she put him through as a kid. His own father dying and the mixed emotions when he speaks of him. He visits Chase’s grave, that fact making me toss and turn at night more than anything else.
I mull this over as I follow him to the front door. He stops to lift his jacket from a hook. I didn’t even notice it when Foster and I came home. It’s like it belonged there. Just like how easy it was for him to be in this house as if he lived here. I try not to compare it to when Johnny comes over and the awkwardness that follows.
Shaking away those thoughts, I open the door and try not to breathe as August passes. It doesn’t work. His scent is warm and clean, too much and not enough at the same time. He turns and offers me a small smile, much like the one he gave me through my bedroom window.
Impulsivity takes over, and I speak, “To answer your question from earlier. No.”
He cocks his head and his brows dip. “I asked a few questions.”
Panicked, I nod and blurt out something else stupid. “Tell Lina I said hi. And I hope she makes you happy.”
I slam the door in his face, closing my eyes and thumping my head off the wood, berating myself.
Stupid girl. Stupid emotions. Stupid heart.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
august
“Lina?” I mumble to myself as I climb into my truck and drive away from Sky’s house.
Then, at the next stoplight, my fingers halt their tapping on the steering wheel.
Sky thinks I’m seeing someone else. She was jealous of a woman I’m definitely not dating.
The notion brings a grin to my face. Even as she slammed the door on me, I could see it, the tint of green envy sparking deep in her blue eyes.
But the other thing she said burrows deeper. A sense of hopefulness that she isn’t lost to me forever. If I’m correct, she hasn’t slept with Johnny.
Something loosens in my chest, and I gun the engine once the light turns green.
Why hasn’t she taken the next step with him?
It was clear by his possessive body language he wants her. My jaw tenses, and my hands tighten on the wheel at the thought of him fucking her.
I could ask myself the same question. I haven’t slept with anyone since Sky. She’s been my one and only. Plenty of opportunities, but more or less no desire to touch another woman except for her.
Fuck.