“About what?”
“About Hank. You need to lock that D down.”
“That dee?”
“That dick,” she whispered. “You need to lock it down.”
“It’s not like that.” I shook my head, even though I wished it was.
She stared at me for a minute and then another smile crept up her face. “Wow. You’re scared.”
Yeah. I was. But I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing that she was right.
“My fearless, independent, I-can-handle-anything big sister is scared.”
“Now you’re just being a D.”
“When’s the last time you…had some between-the-sheets action,” Ashley sang along to the lyrics of the song of the same title by the The Isley Brothers playing through the Bluetooth, “action?”
I took another sip of wine and avoided the question.
“A year?” she guessed.
I kept drinking.
“Two?”
I tilted my head back and finished off the entire glass.
“Three?!”
I set the glass down and wiped my mouth.
“Oh my god! Have you not had sex since Richie?”
My lips pursed and I knew she had her answer.
“Go.” She started pushing me off the couch with her feet. “Go to his house right now.”
“I just took a shower.” I held my hand up to my wet hair as exhibit A.
“Good. That means everything is fresh and ready.” Ashley waved her hand over her lap.
“Shut up.” My grade-school level comeback was all I could think of as my cheeks heated with embarrassment.
“Whoa! I’ve never seen you blush!” Ashley pointed her finger at me.
“Stop,” I repeated.
“You were just saying before you got in the shower that you didn’t get a chance to properly thank him for today, now’s your chance.”
“How do you make everything sound so dirty?”
“It’s a gift,” she beamed proudly. “Now, go. The princess is asleep. I have wine and Pacey.” She motioned down to her laptop which was paused on a young Joshua Jackson. “Go over and thank Mr. Hank.”
“Don’t call him that.” I stood, and I wasn’t sure if it was the wine giving me liquid courage, or what but suddenly Ashley’s plan sounded like a very good idea. “I’m just going to tell him thank you.”
She just smiled and nodded. “Yeah ya are. You’re gonna thank the hell out of him.”
I bit my lip and caught my reflection in the back door. I was wearing cut-off sweats and an oversized T-shirt. “Should I change?”
“Are you wearing a bra?” Ashley asked.
I shook my head no.
“Then no. Don’t change. You’re perfect!” She put her earbuds in and started playing the show on her laptop.
I thought about going and changing, but feared if I did, I’d lose my nerve. All I was doing was going over to tell Hank thank you.
Yep, I thought as I slipped my flip-flops on. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
CHAPTER 30
Hank
I put the last of the leftovers into the fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer. I wasn’t a big drinker, but a cold one sounded nice. I popped it open as I listened to one of my mom’s favorite oldie’s stations that was playing “Between the Sheets” by the Isley Brothers. It was online now but she used to listen to it on a radio she kept on the window sill above the sink.
That radio was up in the attic now. I’d seen it when I’d gone up to get Luna books. I stared at the empty spot in the window and decided that I’d go back up into the attic tomorrow and get it.
Tonight, I was going to finish Love Island and try not to think too much about what my brother had said because his question had been on repeat in my head.
What would I do if I woke up one morning and Skylar and Luna were gone?
My hope was the trash reality show would get my mind off that possibly happening. I’d just sat down in the recliner and listened to the narrator recap what had happened in the last episode when my phone vibrated.
I pulled it out of my pocket hoping that it was Skylar. We hadn’t really had a chance to talk at the party. But we’d caught each other’s eye on several occasions. One moment, in particular, stood out when I’d seen her with my sister.
Cheyenne was standing next to her and for a split second, it looked just like Skylar was talking to my mom. It was still eerie and uncanny how much Cheyenne resembled our mom. Everything down to the way she tilted her head right before she laughed, and how she scrunched her nose when she concentrated.
Those little mannerisms had been so unique to our mom and watching them come back to life was a lot to process. It was like seeing her again, but not. It was sort of a mind fuck.
When I checked the message, I was disappointed to see it was from Reagan not Skylar. But I perked up when I clicked on the link Reagan sent of pictures that she’d taken at the party because eighty percent of them had Skylar in them.
I scrolled through the pictures and marveled at how people responded to Skylar. Every single person, in every picture she was in, was beaming with happiness as they talked to her. It was the same when I’d watched her behind the bar at Southern Comfort.
She had a way of making anyone she talked to feel like the most important person in the world. There was a magic about her that I’d never experienced before. People were drawn to her. They just wanted to be near her.
I also noticed just how fucking beautiful she was. Not that that was a surprise either. Of course, I knew that she was stunning. But seeing someone and being able to study them were two different things. She didn’t have a bad side, she looked good from every single angle she was photographed from.
The more I looked at her, the more I realized that it wasn’t just one thing that made her so gorgeous. Some people had one or, if they were lucky, a few stand-out qualities. A button nose, pretty eyes, a nice smile, silky hair, smooth and creamy skin, curves that were dangerous, or toned legs. Skylar had all those stand-out qualities and more. She was smart, funny, sweet, sassy, loving, nurturing, selfless, and she could kiss.
Damn, she could kiss.
I was staring at a picture that highlighted her lips when I heard the slats on my porch squeak. I’d been sure that everyone had gone before I’d come inside. Or at least I thought I had.
I stood and when I opened the door, I expected to see a straggler from the party. But what I saw was Skylar’s back as she froze halfway down my steps.
“Skylar?”
She slowly turned around. “Sorry, I was going to knock, but then, I just, I didn’t want to interrupt…whatever it is you were doing.”
I was looking at the pictures that Reagan sent of the party missing you.
“I wasn’t doing anything.” I could feel her nervousness even from a few feet away.
Her hands shook as she lifted them and covered her stomach.
Looked like she’d swallowed some butterflies. Which begged the question, why was she so nervous? “Is everything okay?”
“Yep. Fine.”
My eyes must have lowered for a split second and shown my hand because she dropped her arms like she’d been caught in the act.