Naked Edge (3 page)

I need another drink.
 

An hour later, I’ve got a nice buzz going and a curvy little tourist on my lap. So why do I feel like my dog died? And why the fuck am I still thinking about Skylar?

The crowd cheers. I look up and notice the Rockies’ game is playing on the big screen over the bar. That explains the mob.

The tourist’s beer-scented breath warms my neck as she whispers seductively in my ear, “You ready to get outta here?”
 

I should be, but I’m just not feeling it. Hell, I can’t even remember her name and she’s reminded me at least three times. “I just got here.”

I take a long pull on my Coors, hoping that’ll get me in the mood. She’s pretty enough for a bar whore. She’s got that bleached-blonde, spray-tanned, tramp-stamped, easy-woman look. She could have her pick of just about any guy here. I should feel lucky. But all I feel is depressed.
 

I need something stronger than beer. I’d buy a shot of tequila if it didn’t cost more than an entire bottle of the cheap shit I get at the liquor store.

The tourist pushes her lower lip out. I’m sure she thinks it’s a sexy little pout, but it looks ridiculous. She’s gotta be at least thirty. Grow the fuck up.
 

She walks her fingers up my chest then taps the end of my nose. “We could have more fun back at my hotel.”

I pat the side of her hip and shift my weight. “Hop up. My legs are falling asleep.”

Her eyes widen then narrow as she slides off my lap. She grips the handle of her souvenir beer mug so tightly her hand shakes. For a moment, I wonder if she’s going to throw the designer brew in my face.
 

Whether she does or not, I’m done with this one. I can tell she’s the clingy type. The type that’ll get pissed off when I leave immediately after sex. If you want hugs and cuddles, don’t go home with random guys you meet in bars.

She tosses her long, blonde hair over her shoulder, flips me off, then saunters away towards the pool tables.
 

Every man but me drools as she passes, hips swaying, boobs bouncing and practically popping out of her low-cut, two sizes too small tank top.
 

I lift my index finger to signal I’m ready to settle my tab then freeze when Skylar walks through the door. Boone hobbles in behind her. He’s on crutches with a velcro boot on his left foot. I feel a twinge of guilt for not sticking around a little longer at the hospital. But it can’t be too bad if he’s out cruising bars already.

Derek nods at my half full bottle of Coors. “You ready for another?”
 

“No, I’m fine.” I lower my hand, embarrassed that I’ve been sitting here pointing at the ceiling ever since Sky walked in.

Derek smirks at me. “Don’t tell me some conniving female finally got her hooks in you.”

“What are you talking about?”

He nods at Skylar. “You’re staring at that chick as if she were the only woman on the planet. And I saw the way you shoved that slam-dunk hottie off your lap. You could’ve nailed that one in the bathroom.”

Derek’s eyes widen when he spots Boone. “Oh, wow. What happened to Boone Dog?” He gives me a suspicious look. “Please tell me you aren’t the reason he’s on crutches. You know the code.”

“If you say bros before hoes, I’m going to punch you in the mouth.” I drop a twenty on the bar. “Keep the change.”
 

“Thanks, man.” Derek scoops up the bill and grins at me. He thinks I’m joking about punching him.

I’m not usually a big tipper, especially not when it’s one of my housemates behind the bar, but I want to get out of here before Skylar and Boone spot me.
 

Too late.

Boone pins a crutch against his ribs with his elbow and waves.

Skylar’s gaze locks on mine. She lifts her chin and clears a path through the crowd for Boone. She doesn’t inspire the same level of raw lust in the drunken horde as the hot little tramp I had in my lap, but more than one asshole adjusts his junk as Skylar weaves her way through their midst.

I’m trapped. If I leave without at least saying hello, I’ll look like a pussy. “Shit.”

Derek gives me a sympathetic smile then moves to a customer at the other end of the bar. I don’t blame him for ditching me. There’s so much tension in the air you can feel it. Like static electricity before lightning strikes. I’d run for cover too, if I could.
 

Boone flashes a grin at the girls sitting on either side of me. “Do you lovely ladies mind scooting down a bit so we can talk to our friend?”

One girl huffs in obvious annoyance, but they both do as he asks. Funny, I hadn’t even noticed them. The one on my left immediately strikes up a conversation with Boone, leaving me to deal with Skylar on my own. My blood pressure climbs until I can hear my pulse behind my ears. I take another long pull on my beer, delaying the inevitable.

Skylar watches me from beneath her lashes. The tip of her tongue darts out and slicks the surface of both lips then disappears. It was too fast to be intentional. A nervous tic, not a conscious act of seduction, but the way her lips glisten, like ripe cherries after a rain, makes my mouth water. Doesn’t matter. I’m not falling for that shit. I’m not a love-struck, horny teenager and I’m sure as hell not a frightened, battered kid, desperate for affection. Not anymore.
 

I’m a hard-hearted, mean son of a bitch that can get laid whenever he wants and I’m not letting Skylar Layton, or any other woman, anywhere near my heart ever again.

I keep my own lips pressed to the mouth of my beer bottle and damn near chug the rest of it. It’s just beer, but I’m definitely feeling it. I should have splurged and ordered a quesadilla before I started drinking. “What are you doing here, Skylar?”

I know I’m being rude, but what I really want to ask her is,
Where the fuck have you been?
 

“It’s a long story.” She licks her lips again.

Damn. I wish she’d quit doing that. I pick at the label on my now empty bottle of Coors. I don’t give a rat’s ass what her excuse is, but I am curious. Doesn’t mean I care. “I’ve waited four years to hear it.”
 

The right side of Skylar’s mouth twitches before she smiles. Most people wouldn’t notice it, but I do. She’s nervous. She swallows then clears her throat. “You know what they say about people that peel labels off bottles?”

“That they’re sexually frustrated?” A single, bitter laugh escapes my throat as I slam the bottle on the bar a little too forcefully. “I wouldn’t know anything about that.”

She flinches, but I’m not sure whether it’s because of the sudden noise, my harsh tone of voice, or my sarcastic remark. Instead of apologizing, I change the subject. “How long are you in town?”

“As of six forty-five this morning, I live here.”

“You live here? In Boulder?” I grab the rounded edge of the bar. I’d assumed Skylar was just here for a short vacation. The thought of randomly bumping into her on a regular basis flips my panic switch.

Skylar shakes her head. “I’m living with Boone in Eldorado Springs.”

His house is less than half a mile from mine. I am so fucked. “Why are you living with Boone?”

Identical red patches bloom across Sky’s cheeks. She tucks a short, strawberry blonde curl behind her ear. “I can’t afford to rent an apartment.”

Bullshit. Her family’s loaded. They could buy an entire apartment building if they wanted. And even if rent was a problem, it’s pretty ballsy of her to come back after so many years of no contact and take advantage of Boone’s generosity. “Where were you when Will and Lori died? We missed you at their funeral.”

All the color drains from her face.
 

Shit. That was harsh, even for me. “I’m sorry.”

“Really?” Her eyes sparkle with unshed tears. “Because of all the things you could’ve said to me, I can’t think of anything that would’ve hurt me more.”

Boone levers himself off the barstool with his crutches. His eyebrows draw together, tilting up in the center as he shakes his head at me. “Not cool, man. Not cool at all.”

I stand up and grab his upper arms. For a skinny guy, his biceps are hard as rocks. “It’s the beer talking. And the stress of…” I don’t have to finish the sentence. Boone knows what I’m talking about.

His body sags into the crutches. “I know you went through hell when she disappeared. But you don’t know the whole story. None of us did. You need to let her explain.”

“I don’t need anything from her.”

Sky’s voice trembles. “Please, Boone, let’s just go home, okay?”

As a paramedic, I’ve seen a lot of pain and suffering on peoples’ faces. I see it on Skylar’s right now. I see it on Boone’s, too. Yeah, I’m definitely an asshole. But assholes don’t get their hearts ripped out of their chests and stomped on.

Boone and Skylar turn around and make their way through the crowd to the door.
 

I just stand here and watch them go.
 

~***~

I punch my pillow again and roll to the other side of my bed, but it doesn’t help. Nothing does. I’m exhausted but every time I close my eyes, I see Skylar’s filling with tears. “Fuck. I don’t care. I don’t care. I don’t care. I’m over it.”
 

Before Will and Lori died, I would have given my right nut to know what happened to Skylar. I would have given anything to see her again. But when she didn’t show up for their funeral, I decided it was time to move on.
 

And now it’s time to haul my sleep-deprived ass out of bed. The morning sun will crest my southeast windowsill any second now. Might as well get out of here before the heat gets unbearable. My bedroom, over the detached garage, is the largest by far, but it has its drawbacks. The main problem is no bathroom or running water. It’s not so bad in the summer. I have an Eldorado Springs hot and cold water dispenser and a mini-fridge. But the ten-yard dash from my room, down a full flight of narrow stairs and across the yard to the house is brutal in the winter. I grab my shaving kit, robe and a towel then head to the house.
 

My stubborn, masochistic brain continues to dwell on Skylar as I shower. I crank the heat up, hoping the hot water will clear my head. It doesn’t. Two questions seem to be stuck on auto-repeat. Why did she disappear without a trace? And why did she come back?
 

I’m not going to be able to let it go until I find out. I’m obsessive about puzzles. Derek buys Sudoku books and leaves them lying around all over the house. He’ll work on a puzzle until it gets hard then move on to the next one. He’s got entire books of partially solved puzzles. It drives me crazy. This thing with Skylar isn’t any more significant than that. It’s nothing more than an unsolved puzzle. I’ll get Boone to tell me her story. Once the mystery is solved, I can stop obsessing over it.

I need someone to give me a ride back to The Dark Horse to get my car. It might as well be Boone. The sooner I learn why Skylar disappeared, the sooner I can move on.

Derek bangs on the bathroom door. “Dude, hurry up. I’ve got class in less than an hour.”

I wrap my towel around my hips and open the door.
 

Derek fans the steam and glares at me. “If you used all the hot water, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“It’s Thursday. You’re supposed to shower at The Rec.”
 

“I’m running late.”

“Not my problem, buddy. And Wade’s next.” With four of us living in one tiny house, we have to manage our limited resources creatively.
 

“I gave Wade ten bucks to trade with me, so get out of my way.” Derek grabs the door and tries to push past me.
 

I stand my ground. “You still owe me for your share of the cable bill.”
 

“Come on, Rowdy. I’m in a hurry. I’ll give you the money tonight.”
 

I step into the narrow hall.

Derek squeezes past me and slams the bathroom door.

I should have gotten the money from him last night while his wallet was still full of cash. Most people consider tips part of their salary. Derek considers it ‘free’ money. He routinely blows through a night’s haul the next day, buying lattes for cute girls at The Laughing Goat. I don’t care what he does with his money, as long as he pays his bills.

I go back to my room, yank open my top drawer and notice I’m down to three pairs of boxer briefs. Shit. Yesterday was my laundry day, but I’d been so blindsided by Skylar, I’d forgotten all about it. Now I’ll have to haul my shit down to the laundromat. I dig the pair of jeans I wore last night out of my hamper and the last clean t-shirt out of my drawer. It’s the one Derek gave me for Christmas last year. It’s so offensive, I never even tried it on, but it’s either scrounge something out of the dirty clothes or wear the shirt with Ralphie the bison humping Cam the ram emblazoned on the front.
 

I enjoy sticking it to CSU as much as the next guy, but this shirt is downright crude. I can’t wear it out in public, much less to class.
 

We have a strict ‘if it’s not yours don’t touch it’ rule in the house. I poke my head out of my bedroom window just in time to see Derek burst out the front door.

“Hey, Derek, can I borrow a shirt?”

“Sure.” He slams the door hard behind him. Derek doesn’t do anything gently. But he’s generous to a fault, which is why we all put up with him. He’d wait and give me a ride if I asked, but a detour to The Dark Horse would make him more than a little late. Missing one class during summer session is like missing two during a regular semester. The poor guy’s already struggling to keep up.
 

Derek’s bedroom door only opens partway. I have to shove myself through the gap. “God, Derek. You are such a pig.”
 

His closet and drawers are empty. Every article of clothing he owns is either on the floor, draped over his desk chair or… what the hell? I nearly gag at the sight of a used condom hanging over the edge of his trashcan. I back out of his room and yank the door shut. Damn. We’re all in charge of our own rooms, but if he causes us to lose our damage deposit, I won’t be the only one to kick his ass. Anna’s small but she’s wicked strong with a temper to match.