Page 66 of Choosing Skyler

She makes her rounds, enjoying everyone’s company but making her way back to me every few minutes. I make sure to stay in her line of sight as I mingle, getting to know Joey and Tony a little. Timothy and Devon seem to be making progress, too. They have been talking and joking with the rest of us.

I look over and catch Skyler’s eye, throwing up the “I love you” sign. She smiles and throws it back before going back to her conversation with Chelsea and Tony.

It looks like they’re trying to convince Chelsea to try the drink Tony just poured for Skyler. Now that lunch has been eaten and the conversations are flowing, she’s ventured back to the bar for her rum and juice. I excuse myself from Timothy and Devon to make my way over to her.

I step in behind her and rest my hands on her hips. “Are you two trying to put the peer pressure on poor Chelsea?” I chuckle.

“They are, indeed,” Chelsea says. “I’m not much of a drinker and when I do drink, it’s usually just a glass of wine or a beer. I don’t drink the hard stuff.” She huffs.

Skyler laughs and the sound is so beautiful. “Chelsea, rum is hardly thehard stuff. It’s half the alcohol volume of any other liquor. That’s why I like it. It’s sweet and I can drink a few without getting drunk,” she explains, holding her glass out to Chelsea again with a smirk.

Chelsea huffs again. “Alright, hand it over. I’ll takeonesip. That’s it.” When she takes the drink from Skyler, sniffs it before taking a tentative sip. Then, she takes a bigger sip. “Oh, that’s delicious!”

Tony laughs. “I think you lost your drink, girl. Want me to pour you another one?” he asks Skyler.

She nods, laughing again.

Tony looks at me as he’s mixing her drink in a shaker. “What can I get ya, man?”

I shake my head. “I’m good for now. Thanks,” I tell him.

Skyler turns to look up at me. “You can have a drink, Brady. I’m really okay. I promise. I’m only going to drink one, anyways.”

When I don’t agree, she scrunches her brows together, getting that stubborn gleam in her eye before spinning back around. “He’ll have the same as me with a splash of vodka to cut the sweetness,” she tells Tony.

He glances at me in question, and I nod. “That’ll work.”

Just as he hands me my drink, we hear Devon’s laughing “Whoop!” from the living room and make our way in that direction to see what the commotion is.

Tracey and Joey are playingMortal Kombaton the Play Station and Tracey just got a flawless victory. She’s standing and strutting around before she reaches over to ruffle Joey’s hair.

“Who would have thought the two that work in a video game store would be the worst at playing the games?” Skyler chuckles, earning her a glare from Devon.

“You wanna step up, Shit-talking Sky?” he says with a grin. “I still owe you for that blocking shit you pulled on Race Time Championship last week.”

Skyler stiffens beside me, dropping her head and chewing her lip for a second before raising her head and giggling. “Oh, yeah? You sure you want to tell everyone here how you lost that race, Diva Devon?”

Devon looks at me and his face pales at my glare. Bringing up her inability to join us when she was trying to isnotokay and I’m not gonna play this off. I nod my head toward the hallway to have a word with him.

Skyler turns to see my face and grins. “Uh oh. Bulldog Brady is back. You better run, Devon.” She laughs and the sound stops my anger in its tracks.

She raises up on her toes to kiss me before whispering, “Let’s just beat him on the track, yeah?”

I kiss her back, smiling. “Lead the way, Beautiful.”

She pulls me to the couch and looks at Devon. “Pick a teammate, Diva.”

He looks between Tracey and Joey, weighing his choices—knowing that when he chooses one it will put him in the shit with the other. Before he can decide, Timothy, of all people, comes to his rescue.

“If you don’t mind, son. I’d like to give it a shot,” Timothy says hesitantly.

Devon’s face pales. He can’t say no to his dad, but he knows he won’t stand a chance against Skyler and me with him as a teammate. His shoulders slump as he nods, handing a controller to Timothy.

“Don’t look so glum, son. I was quite the racecar driver when I was younger. Hell, I met your mom at the dirt track in Jamaica. She was a hell of a driver, herself,” he says, smiling at the memory.

Devon looks at him hopefully. “Really? You both drove racecars?” he asks, choking up a little at new information about his parents.

Timothy shrugs. “Sure. Neither of us were professionals, but we could drive like hell. So, how about you give me a shot at driving on the screen?”

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