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ChapterTwenty-Two
Gideon
Skye and Chloeare talking and laughing when we make our way off the elevator and back down the hall to Skye’s apartment. At least they’re not talking about which guys they would date or do anymore. It wouldn’t offend me in the least if Skye and I weren’t sleeping together. But it’s not enjoyable to watch the woman I’m involved with size up other guys. Granted, she didn’t say she would do any of them. But I wonder if that would be different if I hadn’t been there.
When I go to bed, I turn on some blues just to drown out their noise. They’re in the kitchen. Sounds like they’re making milkshakes. Something with the blender. They’re talking. I tell myself it’s good they’re friends and they still get together. I love seeing them in action, except for that guy stuff.
But I hate that I’m in this bed alone, and my sister’s sharing Skye’s bed tonight.
Instead of tuning Skye out of my mind, the music is torture, reminding me of that first night we made love in here. The pleasure of exploring her body for the first time. The feel of her warm skin sliding all over mine.
I lie in the dark with my hands stacked under my head and think about the last few weeks. Compare these days with Skye to my life on the go. I miss the lights in Vegas, but not that much. I miss the beaches in Florida some. I miss the feel of the wind in my hair when I’m driving down the interstate.
But I like that everywhere I go in St. Louis, I can see the Arch. I like that the Blues play here, and even though I’m not a hockey fan, I want to go to a game. The city is crawling with arenas, and arenas are great for concerts. The Hep Cat has been more of a home to me than any other structure I’ve lived in other than the house where I grew up. At The Hep Cat, I can be there alone, without judgment.
And I like the way Skye greets me in the mornings. Sometimes head on with a big smile. Sometimes she’s lying behind me, with her breasts pressed to my back, and she nibbles on my shoulder blades and slides her hand over my hip to play. I like that she’s drinking soulless coffee with me now. And that she never gushes about my music. She takes her time and thinks through what she wants to say about it.
I like reading romance novels. I’ve read a few Jayne Ann Krentz books. The first time Skye realized that, she laughed and jumped in my lap to kiss me. That sparked a fun make out session.
I like Skye.
Too much.
Which means, it’s probably a good thing that Wamba is ready to pack and move his life to Arizona. I’ll meet with the loan officers next week. I have appointments with two different banks. I have a little bit of money saved from my fly-by-night jobs, as my dad would say. And I have a very small inheritance from my grandpa; Chloe and I both got something when he passed away when we were sixteen. It’s been in a trust since then. I have no doubt my dad will wash his hands of me when he finds out I’ve used that money to purchase an old man’s old music store.
At least Chloe gets that part. She has no idea who I am outside of the drive to live with music. But at least she’s heard me play in bands here and there, and she knows I’m not garage band material.
I wish she would stop with the mom thing, though. I hate how everyone in my life thinks I need a woman and a family to be happy.
I hate that I’ve found a woman who makes me happy and makes me question how good my solitary life was and will be again.
When I findthe kitchen empty, and Skye’s bedroom door closed in the morning, I figure they were probably up half the night talking. I don’t want to wake them up, so I make a pot of coffee and stand at the counter waiting for the machine to fill the pot. Scrolling through my messages, I see a few pictures Wamba sent. A cactus. A back bar at a speak easy. His grandson in a soccer uniform.
I’m happy for him. I know Clarice would be, too.
The coffee maker beeps so I pour a mug and reach for my book. I’ll sit on the couch, totally away from the loveseat—Skye’s favorite reading nook. Her bedroom door opens as I take a sip.
“Hey.” Chloe grins at me. “That girl can talk. She kept me awake until after two.”
Thankfully, I have a mouthful of hot coffee so I can’t saytell me about it.
“Oh, please!” Skye hollers. Her pillow flies through the open doorway. She follows, still in her pajamas. My cock stirs and hardens, and I hope like hell my sister doesn’t notice.
“Did you make enough coffee for me?” Chloe rubs her eyes.
“I did, but you can get it yourself.” Abandoning the plan to read, I sit on the stool at the end of the counter.
“Cereal?” Skye moves past us. I watch her lift her arms to open the cabinet and get a box of sweet fruity cereal down. Chloe loves the stuff. I refuse to eat it. However, I’m transfixed at the glimpse of Skye’s breast as she takes the box down.
“Mmm. Thanks.” Chloe bumps Skye’s hip as she takes a mug down. “Damn, Gideon. I’ll only drink one cup. You’re gonna be up until dawn if you drink the rest of that yourself.”
I won’t. And it’s annoying that she still lectures me about healthy habits. I’m not ten.
“It’s for me,” Skye announces and nudges her out of the way. Chloe leans on the cabinet and watches Skye pour a mug and then sip from it.
“Nothing like a mug of soulless coffee to start the day,” I mumble. Skye snorts and then sets her mug down. She gets bowls down for cereal. Chloe watches her silently, her arms folded over her chest and one hand poised carefully holding her mug.
“What’s going on?” she asks.
