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“You okay?” He snaps me out of my daydream when he reaches past me to grab a dish towel.
“Yeah, I’m good. Great in fact.” I try too hard to sound convincing, and when he looks back at me strangely, I make myself look busy by clearing the kitchen table. My lack of concentration and the fact that these days, I’m a clumsy mess has me knocking the glass of water that’s resting on it. It falls to the floor, smashing to pieces, and Skid looks down at my bare feet and impulsively sweeps me off them.
“I’m sorry I was—”
“It’s fine.” He rests me on the table before crouching down and starting to pick up the bigger pieces of glass with his hands. “Just stay there while I clean it up.”
I sit on the table and watch him clean up my mess, and after he places all the broken glass in an empty Nutter Butter box he uses the dustpan and brush to collect up any smaller pieces. I remain still when he gets back onto his knees and starts closely examining my feet.
“I’m fine. I didn’t step in any,” I tell him, loving how tentative he can be as he continues to check, despite me telling him I’m okay. My hand moves spontaneously, reaching to his face and steering his eyes up to mine. He keeps them fixed as he slowly gets back on his feet and when our heads start tentatively moving closer together that throb in the pit of my stomach starts to get stronger.
Our lips are almost touching, our eyes aren’t moving from each other’s, and I hold my breath, bracing for impact, but the feeling plummets when he takes my wrists in his hands and gently slides them away.
“Floor’s all clean. I should head off.” He looks disappointed in himself as he backs away from me. Grabbing his cut from the chair on the other side of the table, he heads straight out the door without looking back.
“What the hell you doin’ here? You're supposed to have the day off.” Rogue looks surprised when I storm through the garage and into the office.
I slam the door and through the clear window that looks out into the workshop I see the look she throws at Squealer. Eventually, he rolls his eyes in defeat and when he opens the door and lets himself in, I make it clear that I ain’t got the patience for him.
“Not now, Squeal. I ain’t in the mood for wisecracks.” I massage the bridge of my nose before opening up the desk cabinet and pulling out the bottle of scotch I keep there for days like this one.
“Chill, I was just tryin’ to do you a solid. It was either her or me, and right now I’m assumin’ you’d rather wisecracks than the sympathy of the fuckin’ devil.”
“I just wanna be alone,” I growl, unscrewing the lid and knocking a mouthful back.
“Sorry, brother, no can do. Now, I don’t mind sittin’ here in silence, but I ain’t lettin’ you drink that bottle of scotch alone. Not when there’s work I can be gettin’ out of.” He reaches his hand out for the bottle and when I pass it over, he sinks into the chair on the other side of the desk and kicks up his feet.
“Good shit.” He releases a satisfied breath once he’s swallowed, then handing the bottle back to me he does what he promised and remains silent.
“She kissed me.” The words come out unexpectedly before I take another swig.
“Of course she fuckin’ kissed ya, she came here for your help and you gave her the big ole’I’ll be your protectorwelcome. What did ya expect?” He proves he’s gonna be no help at all when he laughs at me.
“Your problem ain’t the fact she kissed ya, Skid. It’s the fact you liked it, and now you're feelin’ bad because you think you’re betrayin’ Carly.”
I stare at him in absolute shock.
“Don’t give me that look, I can do the deep shit too, I used to watch Dr. Phil.”
I huff a laugh, unsure if it’s outta humor or fear that I’m actually considering having this conversation with Squealer.
“You knew your wife, right?” he questions me with a serious look on his face.
“‘Course I fuckin’ knew her.”
“Well then, you’d know that all she’d want is for you to be happy. That woman, she didn’t have a selfish bone in her hot-assed body.”
“That’s still my wife you're talkin’ about,” I warn, and when he holds up his hands in apology I decide to let him off.
“What I’m tellin’ ya, Skid, is that if she were sittin’ here instead of me, she’d be tellin’ ya to stop running away from the chance of bein’ happy.”
“But she ain’t here, Squeal, my brother fu—”
“He killed her,” Squeal finishes my sentence for me. “Now, you gotta decide if you're gonna let him kill ya too. Way I see it, you got a woman in your cabin who’s terrified of somethin’, and the one person in this whole world she chose to run to was you. She’s puttin’ the life of the most precious thing she’s got in your hands and she’s doin’ that because she believes in ya. That’s somethin’ real special, and it’s somethin’ that your beautiful, kind-hearted wife would be very proud of. Get the fuck over whatever it is that’s holdin’ ya back and don’t let either of ‘em down.” He stands up and heads for the door.
“It ain’t that easy, Squeal. I still love her.”
“You ain’t supposed to stop lovin’ her, Skid. She was your wife, and she was taken from ya in a way I can’t even bear to imagine. But that don’t mean you can’t love someone else. You got a heart bigger than any man I know, don’t try tellin’ me that there ain’t room in it for ya to love ‘em both.” His hand reaches for the door handle but he decides he ain’t finished yet and turns to face me again. “Now, when Rogue questions ya on what I said in here, you tell her that I told ya to go home and drill that cult girl on your back porch. I got a reputation to uphold.”
