Page 3 of Teach Me How

I watch him work. “It’s about rebirth. I’m shedding my skin.”

I turn my gaze back to my phone. Fingertip hovering over Jonah’s contact number. I delete it and it hurts. It hurts like a needle driving ink into my heart. It’s a pain that I welcome.

I navigate to my Instagram app and take one last look at Jonah.

Jonah and his new girl. She’s wearing a mini skirt and a crop top that shows off a flat stomach. I haven’t been that skinny since fifth grade.

How many times did he berate me for dressing too provocatively? For tempting him?

I built my wardrobe around him. Shaped my identity to match his.

“I remember him.” Chance breaks into my thoughts.

I glance up at him, realizing that he’s looking at my phone.

He huffs another laugh. “The Christian rockstar, right?”

“Yeah. That’s him. My ex.”

“He did you a favor cutting you loose. That guy was a total poser.”

Jonah was a poser. But I was the girl who molded herself around him.

So, what does that make me?

2.

Skyler

I should be charming the shit out of my boss’s boss. Making a good impression.

It’s the only thing that’s kept my job safe these past years. If you’re going to work remotely, you’ve got to be memorable. You’ve got to be better than good.

But there’s a dude at the bar that keeps distracting me. We’re at some brewery in Boulder. It’s trendy as fuck and I’m surrounded by rugged ‘bad asses’ who wouldn’t know a fence post driver from a parking meter.

Leather jackets. Work boots that have never seen a speck of dirt.

But that guy at the bar takes it to the next level. He’s got a retro punk rock shirt on under his jacket. What grown ass man, well into his fifties at least, still dresses like that?

“Skyler?”

I pull myself back, automatically straightening my glasses as I turn to my boss. “Sorry, got distracted there. What was that?”

Rick laughs. “I was asking when you’re going to move to headquarters. Smart guy like you belongs in San Francisco. Not out in the sticks counting cattle.”

He’s right about that. And very, very wrong. I don’t belong out in Silver Bend, that’s true. But I can never leave. I shrug, smiling, and give him the same answer I give them every time. “Maybe someday.”

Maybe never.

Rick slaps my shoulder. “Next time you’re in California, you should stay at the beach house with my wife and me. Frankie’s a farm girl, too. She’d love you.”

We part ways and I make my way over to the bar. This guy is really getting under my skin. He looks so fuckingfamiliar. I sidle up to the bar next to him and he locks eyes with me. That gaze zings through me and in an instant, I know who he is. We’ve never met. Not once. But I recognize those eyes, because I see them at every Thanksgiving. Every Christmas gathering. On my dad. On my uncle and my cousins. In my own mirror.

His gaze travels across my face and his eyes widen. “Fuck me.”

I drop onto the stool next to him. “Are you…”

“Don? Yes. And you must be… goddamn, I’m not sure. How terrible is that? You look just like Chad. But you’ve got Brad’s dark coloring.”