Page 8 of Choosing Skyler

“Yeah, ‘friends that occasionally make out’, right? I don’t want to cause problems by being in the way,” I say seriously.

Devon sighs and I feel a telling off coming on. “I swear, you’re as stubborn as she is. I’m pretty sure you two are soul mates or some shit. So, listen closely. I love Sky with all my heart. She is my best friend on the damn planet aside from you. That being said, we have ZERO romantic feelings for each other. Yes, we occasionally make out because neither of us have time for a relationship with someone who would never understand our friendship and we’re not willing to lose each other for a piece of ass. However, I would be more than happy to go the rest of my life without ever making out with her again if it meant you two were together. I can’t think of a more perfect couple on the planet. I get to keep both of my best friends and see them happy. You both deserve that. Now,Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth?” he asks, mimicking the voice of Chris Tucker in Rush Hour.

I throw my hands up in surrender. “Okay! I believe you. I’ve just seen the two of you together and I can’t imagine willingly giving her up. I’ve only known her for one damn day, and I’m stuck, man. That’s the other reason I’m not sure about moving into your apartment. I’ll upend your lives and routines and I honestly don’t know how to be that close to her without wanting more. I don’t have the time or the headspace formoreright now,” I say with a sigh.

He gives me a shit eating grin. “Oh, make no mistake, I’ll never give her up. She is MY best friend, just like you are MY best friend. I call seniority on both. You’re both MINE. But I will stop making out with her and pretending to be her date to all the college parties if you decide you want to move on thatmore.”

“Wait! What? Pretending to be her date at college parties? Why wouldn’t you both find dates to the parties and just hang out as a group?” I ask, shocked. She is the sexiest girl I’ve seen in this town by far. There’s no way she’d ever need a fake date.

Devon just shrugs. “Easier to go with the devil you know, I guess. She doesn’t trust easily after what she went through back home. She trusts me to choose her over a piece of ass and I trust her not to freak out if I decide to check out a guy at the party. While I’m not the only bisexual guy in town, I’m definitely the flashiest about it. She hasn’t even looked at another guy like she was interested. Until yesterday, when she saw the hot piece in the back booth at the coffee shop. Now, she’s a blushing mess and I’m thinking I need to find a real date to the party next weekend,” he says, tapping his finger against his chin.

“Hot piece, huh? This morning I was hot stuff.” I laugh.

“Actually, I called you a hot piece. She just didn’t disagree.” He winks and moves down the counter to help the guy looking at a PS5. I shake my head and wave as I head for the door.

Chapter 4

Skyler

I am beat by the time I get off work Monday afternoon. Thankfully, I only work ten hour shifts twice a week and never back-to-back. Devon came by on his break at two and told me about Brady’s housing situation. Of course, I agreed that he could stay with us. We can move the equipment out of the third bedroom, so he has his own space. After everything he’s been through, he deserves a break. It will be good for him to be around Devon, too. Someone to stop him from dwelling on what he’s lost. Someone to remind him that there are people that care and that he’s not alone. Devon did that for me three years ago.

I was so lost when I moved here from Florida to start college. It felt like I’d never had anyone on my side. My parents never really got along. At least, not that I can remember. My dad was an executive for a company that helped manage golf courses and scheduled the golf tours that came into the area. My mom worked as a hospitality manager at one of the resorts. They would never get divorced because, “What would people say?!” I guess I inheritedthatfrom both of them and I hate it, but I don’t know how to stop those thoughts.

I always went to private schools and while I had all the privileges that my parents’ lucrative careers afforded, I never fit in. I’ve always been on the heavier side of normal. Then, with puberty at twelve came curves and breasts that none of my other “friends” had. By the time I got to high school I realized that I didn’t have anyrealfriends. They wanted to go with me to the country club or use my family discount at the hotel my mom managed. They didn’t care aboutme. The guys I dated were just as bad or worse. They wanted the country club membership and to put their hands up my shirt because I had, “the biggest tits in the school.”

When I started filling out college applications junior year, I knew I wanted to be at least two states away from anything resembling a golf course. I had a full academic scholarship that would pay tuition and housing for just about any University in the country. I applied to every major tech school I could. When my acceptance came from Thorngrove University in the Smoky Mountains of Tennessee, I knew that was it. I was getting out and getting free. I refuse to take any money from my parents. I use my scholarship for tuition and books, the housing allowance pays about half of my rent, and I work for the rest. I left Florida and never looked back.

Then, when I met Devon, it felt like my world fell into place. We click in a way I never have with anyone before. So, I know that he is exactly what Brady needs. While our pasts are vastly different, he is also looking to start over without the heartache he left behind. Maybe we have more in common than I first thought. We both needed a fresh start and we both need Devon. Hopefully, there’s enough of him for us both.

On my short drive home, I think about the way Brady leaned over the counter this morning. I swear we almost kissed. He was so close I could see the fire in his light brown eyes. I could smell the mint from his toothpaste. Hell, I could almost taste it. I leaned forward, licked my lips and then…ding. I remembered where we were and how everyone in the shop would be talking about the weird fat girl and new hot guy. But he didn’t seem to notice anyone else andthatmade my heart flutter. So, I wrote my number on the back of his receipt and hoped he would come back for my key after his meeting. He didn’t.

He went to Devon who insisted that he move in with us for the school year. Which is great for Brady and Devon. I just don’t know where that will leave me, my fluttering heart and my raging hormones that have finally seemed to catch up with my body’s early development.

I half expect the apartment to be a mess with all of Brady’s things when I walk in, but there are just two suitcases and a duffle bag along the balcony windows in the living room. I don’t see Brady. I guess he dropped his things off and left.

I start down the hallway pulling my purple work shirt over my head on the way to my bedroom with a yawn. I’m ready to grab a shower and a nap before Devon gets home from work. I throw my shirt and jeans into the hamper in the corner of my room. Then I grab clean underwear, yoga pants and a tank top. I’ll dress more appropriately for company after my nap.

I open the bathroom door and ho-ly shit… I’m wide awake now and so is my libido. Brady is standing in front of the bathroom sink wearing nothing but a towel around his waist and some shaving cream on his neck. He is tall, tan and all man. His hair is still damp from the shower he just took. He still has water droplets on his back and as one rolls down his shoulder, I get the insane urge to chase it with my tongue.

Wait! What?I have never had that kind of thought about anyone. Not even Devon, and I’ve done more with him than I ever did with any of the assholes back in Florida. I’m stuck, slack jawed and completely mindless to my state of undress. I must gasp or make some noise because Brady looks up and his eyes catch mine in the mirror. I swear it’s like a spark catching flame. I’m still stuck. I literally can’t move—or make my brain work apparently.

“Hey, Beautiful,” he says like I’ve come to expect from him, but there’s a huskiness to his voice I haven’t heard before.

He grabs the towel on the edge of the sink and turns while wiping the smudges of shaving cream left on his throat. When he’s facing me, his heated gaze drops down my body and I swear I can feel the heat on every inch his gaze travels. When I start to drop my own gaze, I suddenly remember...

“Shit, I’m in my underwear. I’m so sorry.” I turn and run back towards my bedroom but before I reach my door a big warm hand wraps around my arm pulling me back around. I drop my head into my hands on the verge of a panic attack.

“Whoa, Beautiful! Why are you apologizing? I’m the one that’s all up in your place and then gawking at you like a perv.I’mthe one that should be sorry—and I am—a little.”

I can hear the grin in his voice, but I can’t see it because my face is still in my hands and I’m starting to hyperventilate.What is wrong with me?Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that this is the closest I’ve ever come to being naked with a man? I mean, Devon has seen me in my underwear plenty but only passing in the apartment to or from the bathroom or in the dressing room at the mall but at leasthewas dressed.

Brady takes his hand from my arm and tries to lift my face with his finger under my chin, but I can't look up at him. I didn’t realize it was actually possible to die from embarrassment, but I think I’m dying. I can’t breathe, the room is spinning and the next thing I know I’m in the air. No, that’s not right. I’m not in the air. I’m in Brady’s arms and he’s carrying me to the living room. He sits on the ottoman in front of the couch with me in his lap—his nothing but a towel covered lap! He sets me on the couch facing him, grabs the back of my neck and pushes my head down towards my own lap before cajoling me.

“Breathe. You’re okay. You’re safe. I won’t hurt you. Just breathe.” He rubs soothing circles on my back and keeps repeating the same words until I begin to take deeper breaths and calm down.

Brady grabs one of my million afghans off the back of the couch and wraps it around me before coaxing me to sit back.

“Hey,” he says.

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