CHAPTER 5

SKYLAR

Dinner’s at 6:30. Eating on the patio. Laney suggested a sweater. Maybe?

I can’t stop myself from smiling after reading Derek’s text a second time. I’ve only spent a few hours with Derek, but the thought of his pregnant wife directing him to have me bring a sweater is enough to put a smile on my face. I will admit I’m looking forward to meeting Laney, but the closer I am to leaving, the more the reality of my situation finally begins to settle in and leaves a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Whether I’m ready or not, soon I’ll be staring into the face of Scott Rivers. The only man I’ve ever loved. Of course, he was more a boy when I knew him.

How will he react when he sees me? And worse, how will he feel after finding out I’m going to be following him around, chasing after him like some common puck bunny? I hate the corner I’ve painted myself in. If I’d been honest with Mitch at the very beginning, I would probably be home in Atlanta, curled up on the couch with a good book. Instead, it’s Thursday evening and I’ve spent most of the afternoon fretting over what to wear. Skinny jeans? Leggings? Sundress? One makes me look too skinny. One makes me look as if I don’t care. The other may give the impression I’m trying too hard. I don’t know. Maybe I am. I’ve applied, removed, and re-applied my eye makeup three times to achieve the perfect smoky eye. First, I tried straightening then ended up curling my hair. All this trouble to make myself feel better when I face him.

I never spend this much time in the bathroom. Not for anyone. Least of all some asshole who knowingly broke my heart and didn’t stop until he’d crushed the remains with the heel of his boot. The effort I’ve put forth tonight says way more about my own insecurities than I care to admit. Out loud, anyway. I study my reflection one last time in the mirror and search for something. Anything. But no matter how long I stare, the flashing neon sign fails to reveal itself, which can only mean one thing: I’m in the clear. My secret’s still safe.

Well, safe for now. But I have a sinking suspicion that’s all about to change

***

The drive to their house is long but mercifully uneventful. Traffic is thick, but I’m used to driving defensively during rush hour in Atlanta, where I-85 becomes one twelve-lane monstrosity its travelers have not so affectionately named “The Connector.” And don’t get me started on “Spaghetti Junction,” the part of town where I-285 and I-85 meet. If you’re anywhere near there during rush hour, you may as well forget about arriving at your destination on time. So, driving from Detroit to Chelsea feels like a walk in the park compared to that. The closer I get to their house, the more beautiful the scenery becomes. The two-lane highway is surrounded by large oak and maple trees, and I admire the way they form a canopy over the road. Love the way the evening sun filters through the lush, green leaves. By the time I reach their driveway, it’s safe to say I’ve fallen in love and am ready to contact a realtor. As I exit the car, reality snaps me out of my fantasy in time for me to make my way up the front porch steps. I knock on the screen door and hear a soft feminine voice call out.

“Door’s open. I’m back here in the kitchen.”

I step through the door, and the aroma of garlic and Italian seasonings lead me straight to the kitchen, where I find a very beautiful and very pregnant brunette.

“Skylar?” She approaches with a smile before opening her arms to embrace me in a heartfelt hug. “I’m honored to meet you. Derek’s had nothing but wonderful things to say about you. Come on, place your stuff on the counter and let me get you something to drink.”

I place my purse and cardigan on a section of the counter that appears to be a catchall area and smooth down the front of my tank. I ended up going with the skinny jeans and ballet flats, deciding I’d take skinny over desperate any day of the week.

“Tell you what, you look all sorts of busy. Why don’t you just point me in the direction of the drinks and then allow me to help you in here? Sound good?”

Relief fills her heart-shaped face. “Really? I hate to ask. I could have sworn I had everything together, but now that you’re here, I realize I’m running behind. There’s beer and wine in the fridge, but if you prefer a mixed drink, I believe Derek has a mini bar set up out back.”

I laugh and pull open the fridge. “Actually, water will be just fine. Thank you.” I grab one of the bottles of water. “Can I get you anything while I’m in here?”

“Gah! You’re an angel. I can already tell I’m going to love you.” She smiles again, and I find myself remembering what Derek said before leaving my apartment yesterday. They’re going to take one look at you and fall in love. “There should be a bottle of green juice in there. I’ll take that, please.”

I scan the contents of their refrigerator and spy a short bottle of something resembling pureed spinach. I read the label, Bolthouse Farm’s Green Goodness. “This it?” I hold it up for her to see.

“Yep. That would be the one.” She chuckles after seeing the look on my face. “Hey, don’t knock it till you try it. There’s some good shit packed in this little bottle.” She twists off the top then grabs a small glass to pour me a sip. She holds it out for me to grasp, but I give her a look.

“It looks like someone pureed a bunch of spinach and lettuce, threw it in a bottle, then suckered you into paying a fortune for it.” I laugh through my grimace.

“Oh, shush. Just take a sip, and I promise you’ll be singing a different tune.” I pick up the glass and give a sniff before bringing the rim to my lips. It doesn’t smell like salad. It actually smells fruity. Sweet. I swallow down my fear of trying new things and take a swig of the putrid-looking green stuff.

The moment it hits my tongue, I find myself wanting to savor its refreshing flavor. It slides easily down the back of my throat, and I lick my lips for any residue left behind. Laney already knows what I’m going to say, because she’s bouncing on her toes and clapping.

“I knew it! I told Derek the same thing, and he thought I was crazy. Now he drinks them all the time.” She opens a drawer and pulls out a set of wooden salad forks. “Would you mind pulling that bowl of salad out of the fridge and giving it a toss? I’m just about to pull dinner out of the oven and throw in the garlic bread.”

“I knew I smelled Italian.” I smile because it’s my favorite. “What’s for dinner?”

“Ziti.” She reaches for the oven mitts before opening the heavy oven door. “The guys love it.”

“Yum. I’m also a big fan. You sure you don’t need any help over there?” I ask as she heaves the largest baking dish I’ve ever seen out of the oven. Derek walks in just as she’s setting it on the counter to cool.

“Babe, I told you I’d wrestle that thing out of the oven for you. She never listens.” He plants a kiss on her lips before stepping my way to give me a hug. They have to be some of the friendliest people I’ve ever met. “Glad you could make it. Was traffic insane?”

“Please. I’ve spent the last four years fighting Atlanta traffic. This is nothing. Atlanta drivers are ruthless, but I suspect that is only because they would be run off the road if they didn’t learn to be defensive.” I laugh.

“Bro, I thought you were bringing me a bucket for—” The guy speaking stops talking and halts in his tracks the moment he sees me standing in kitchen. “I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.” He looks between all of us while I sip my water and take him in.

“Nah, man. Not at all. Masterson, allow me to introduce you to Skylar Dennison. She works for Harrison Media and is a journalist for PLAY. That’s an up and coming sport’s magazine Mitch launched earlier this year. Skylar’s doing a story on Rivers and Cage,” he tells the guy with the dark hair and even darker eyes.

He holds out a hand for me to shake, and I find my eyes drawn to the intricate tattoos covering his forearm. “Hi, Skylar. Please, call me Jordan. And might I add, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Our hands connect, and I can’t stop myself from smiling up at him. He’s incredibly handsome and downright charming. Not really my type, though. I’m partial to blonds. But my mind immediately goes to Samantha. If she were here, she’d be all over him. Poor guy probably wouldn’t know what hit him.

“Likewise, I’m sure.” I do a quick curtsy, which in turn makes him laugh.

“Masterson was on the team with us, and we spent the last three years sharing a house on campus. Cage and Cassie live there now, or at least until they find another place,” Derek adds.

“Cassie?” I ask innocently, already fearing he’s referring to Scott’s sister. I was really hoping to get through tonight without having to rehash the history I share with Scott.

“Oh, Cage is dating Scott’s sister. Actually, I’m pretty sure he’s going to propose soon,” Derek informs me.

“It’s about damn time. God knows he’s been carrying that ring around for months.” Jordan laughs, and it’s this melodic, happy sound.

Watching him, the way his eyes dance when he smiles, has me missing Ash. I make a mental note to call him before the weekend is over. I also wonder if allowing myself to get caught up in conversation with Jordan will help soften the blow when Scott arrives. Christ, I hope so, because I’m already starting to perspire, and it’s not even that freaking hot in here. We head outside, and I’m immediately thankful for the gentle southern breeze. Jordan starts asking me questions about life in Atlanta, and before I know it, I’m relaxed and laughing on the outside, but inside… well, that’s a different story altogether.