Page 94 of When Sky Breaks
I narrow my eyes in jest. “And what might that be?”
She’s coy as she plays with the edge of the book. “Well, you know what eighteen-year-old Sky sounds like when she comes, but what about twenty-three-year-old me?”
Fuck me.
I groan and flatten to my back, praying my dick didn’t hear that. “You’re still sick; I just can’t—oh god, why do I have to be such a gentleman?”
She laughs, the sound making this even harder. “I’m not contagious anymore, silly. You’re the one who first said we have to go slow.”
I turn my head toward her. “We are, we should, we have to. We—I can’t mess this up.”
She shrugs and goes back to her—my—book, the look of amusement still on her face. “Suit yourself.”
While she reads, I follow the slope of her nose and the curve of her lips. The sweep of her dark blonde lashes as she blinks, and the slant of her cheekbones as she bites her inner cheek.
I can’t believe she’s here.
My smile softens as I take in a deep breath, not out of necessity but because I’m not struggling to breathe anymore. There’s a weight on my chest that may never leave, but it’s lighter now, all because of her selfless ability to forgive me.
Suddenly shy, I rake my hands through my disheveled hair as I sit up. “Can I take you on a date? That’s what I was going to ask you before you scrambled my brains with the whole mystery thing.”
Her eyebrows raise, and she sets the book aside. “A second first date, huh? What were you thinking?”
“Anywhere except The Rusted Tavern,” I murmur, feeling idiotic about misinterpreting that whole thing.
She huffs out a laugh. “I’d love to go on a date with you. Not sure you can top the one you took me on in high school, though.”
I tug her ankle, and she squeals once I’ve pinned her under me, her eyes showing no trace of hurt or wariness anymore. My chest settles as I ghost my palms along her sides to cradle her face. “I think I can top that one.”
“Promise?”
Her grin is infectious, and I return it, stealing a quick kiss. “Promise.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
sky
“I feel underdressed.” I clutch the sleeves of my sweater as I get into August’s truck. It’s warm, the heat coming from the vents as I hop in.
August watches as I put on my seatbelt, one hand casually draped along the steering wheel. He’s dressed in his usual jeans but with a white shirt underneath an open plaid jacket.
“Hate to break it to you, Shortcake, but you could wear a paper bag and still be beautiful.”
My cheeks flush and I suppress the urge to grin. “Now you’re just being cheesy to make me feel better.”
He reaches for my chin and holds it as he shakes his head. “I appreciate the small-town girl in you and would never ask you to be anyone other than who you are. Jeans, sweats, makeup, no makeup, I don’t care. You’ve always been someone I wanted to look at.”
A jolt of pleasure runs through me. “I feel the same way about you,” I whisper, happy when a smile crests his face and makes it to his eyes.
“You think I’m pretty?” he says, dropping his hand and winking when I push him in the shoulder.
“Stop,” I laugh, feeling the rise of euphoria in my chest. “Where are you taking me on this best date ever?”
August gives me a long-sided glance, merriment dancing. “You’ll see. I don’t want to ruin the surprise.” He drives us through town and familiar streets before turning down a road I’ve only ever been on once.
My brows furrow as he pulls through an open steel gate and puts the truck in park along the side of the road. “Uh. The lumberyard?”
He chuckles as he unbuckles his belt and steps out of the truck.