Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

Brooks

I wiped down the bar, eyeballing Heath Mullins, a sun-weathered man who led boat tours for Swallow Adventures. He was somewhere in his early fifties and sported a truly impressive beard.

Which was currently taking a dip in his beer.

"You going to finish that drink or not?" I asked. "It's time to close up."

Last call was an hour ago. I'd turned on the lights, and still he sat there moping in his beer after a fight with his wife, Tammy. He'd tried to share the details—something about him being foolish and jealous—but I hadn't paid attention. Those two were always at each other's throats or they had their tongues down each other's throats.

There was no middle ground.

"I'm almost done," he said. "Hold your horses."

Heath wasn't usually the last guy in the pub at closing time. He had to rise early and take folks out on the lake.

I pulled the pint glass away before he could take another drink. "If you love Tammy, sober your ass up and go buy her some flowers in the morning. Make things right."

He sighed and blinked watery eyes at me. "Can you blame me for being jealous?" He chuckled. "What does she even see in me?"

"In this town? She could do a lot worse than—"

The door suddenly rattled. Was someone trying to open it? A flurry of knocks followed.

What now?

The sign was off, and I'd locked up to avoid any last-minute bar hoppers. We were clearly closed. But maybe someone had forgotten something.

The knocking continued, fast and frantic. I crossed to the door, flipped the lock, and yanked it open.

"Sorry, but we're clo—" I stopped short. " Skylar ?"

He glowed under the security lights, pale and shaky. He wrapped his arms around himself, tight, as if trying to hold his insides in.

"I can't go home," he blurted. "I don't know where else to go, but I can't. Please ."

I drew him into my arms on instinct, unable to resist offering comfort. He tensed, and I wondered if I'd overstepped, but then he let out a shuddering breath and sank into my hold.

He trembled against me, and I squeezed him tighter, heart aching. "It's okay. I've got you."

"Who's there?" Heath called. "Everything all right?"

His voice pierced the moment like a needle to a balloon. Skylar drew away, looking spooked.

I turned. "Everything's fine, Heath, but it's time for you to go."

"But I—"

" Go ," I said. "Sober up and make up with Tammy."

Heath took his sweet time moving his ass off the barstool and toward the door.

Skylar shifted his feet. "Should I…"

"Go sit," I said. "I'll get him out and then we can talk."

"Okay." His voice was soft, and he ducked his head, hiding behind his hair, a gesture I hadn't seen in a couple of weeks now. Something had sent him back to that skittish guy I'd first met.

Heath craned his head to look at Skylar, and I gave him a little nudge toward the door. "Mind your own business, or I'll have to tell Tammy how you spent your evening."

He gave me a baleful look. "Wasn't gonna say nothin'."

"Great. See you later."

"Flowers?" he said skeptically.

"And candy ," I suggested, because I didn't want him back in here crying into his beer. Then I shut the door in his face and flipped the lock.

Skylar had taken his usual spot at the bar, though he'd turned in his seat to watch me.

"You look like you could use a stiff drink. You're too pale."

I grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured each of us a drink.

Skylar took a sip of his. "Thanks. I don't know why I panicked like that."

"I'm sure you had good reason."

He nodded. "It's my ex. He went to my house."

"Goddammit." My muscles coiled with tension ready to explode all over that asshole's face. "Did he hurt you?"

My voice came out harsh, and Sky's eyes widened.

I was sure my dark expression was doing little to calm him, so I tried to rein it in, but the thought of that toxic guy getting his hands on Skylar made me shake.

I threw back my shot of whiskey, suddenly needing to calm my nerves.

"No, he didn't touch me," Skylar said. "I saw him on my security system app. I have a ring camera. As soon as I got the alert, I turned around and came back."

"Good." I relaxed a fraction. "You can see if he's still there then, right? Check the app, and if he is, I'll go run him off."

"What if he's not really gone, though? What if he's lurking somewhere nearby. Or what if he comes back later?" His voice thinned with anxiety. "I can't go back there tonight, Brooks."

"Okay," I said, trying to project calm and kicking myself for rattling him again. "Don't worry. We'll do whatever you want."

He finished his glass of whiskey in two big gulps, and I poured him another. I'd cut him off before he drank too much. He needed it right now to steady him.

"Maybe I can get a room at the B&B?" he said. "Only…what if he's staying there?"

"It's booked up, anyway."

"There are some cabin rentals around here, right? Maybe—"

"It's two in the morning, Sky. You're not going to find a place in town, not at this hour. I could go home with you and stay in case he shows up, but it'll be a while before we're good to drive. Didn't think about that when I got out the whiskey. Sorry."

"I don't want to risk it, anyway. Even if you're there… I'm not ready to face him. Not yet. Maybe tomorrow, maybe when it's daylight. Maybe I won't be so damn weak then."

"You're not weak."

He sighed. "I feel weak. I should confront him, tell him to go to hell, and here I am, unable to leave this bar because it's the only place I feel safe."

I took hold of his hand and squeezed. "You're always welcome here."

The whiskey had returned some color to his face. The trembling had stopped. But the shadows in his eyes remained.

"It's not that I think he'd seriously hurt me. I'm just not ready to face him. Not now, in the middle of the night like this…"

"You shouldn't have to face him unless it's on your terms."

"Yeah." He heaved a big sigh. "You should go home, though. I'll just stay here until… Well, until morning? If that's okay."

"But where will you sleep?"

Our chairs were wooden and far from cushy. There were no booths, where he could at least try to bed down. No way would Skylar be comfortable.

He shrugged. "I doubt I'd sleep much tonight, anyway. If I can't find a hotel room, this is the next-best option."

"Skylar…"

"Please?" He bit his lower lip. "You don't have to stay, but please don't make me go."

Ah, hell.

I wished I could take Skylar home and chase off his ex—if he was even still there. Chances were, he'd moved on when he didn't find Skylar. But I couldn't push. Skylar's home didn't feel safe. With or without me, he didn't feel comfortable going back.

That meant he needed somewhere to stay.

And I couldn't let Skylar sit in a hard chair or sleep on the fucking floor, could I? There was only one thing I could do.

"Of course I won't make you go," I said. "But let's make sure you're a little more comfortable, okay? Let me show you the stockroom."

He looked curious as he got off the barstool and followed me to the door. "But this is the room you didn't want me to see."

"Yep." I opened it up and pulled the chain to turn on the single bulb. It looked like a typical stockroom with crates and shelves of supplies.

I led him around the corner to where my mattress sat on the floor.

"This is a break room where we can relax," I said. "Sometimes we crash here if it's a long night or there's a storm. I didn't know if your dad would be okay with that." I shrugged. "So, uh, you can sleep in here, okay?"

Skylar glanced around, and I crossed my fingers that he wouldn't notice the personal effects and figure out I actually lived in this space. I felt a little bad for fibbing, but he shouldn't have to worry about my living situation or what to do about it tonight. There would be time enough for that later.

"I thought maybe you were growing weed in here," he said. "Or maybe you were storing stuff that fell off a truck. Money laundering? I don't know…"

"I'm not a criminal," I said, a little offended.

He turned to me. "I know, but… a break room? You were so cagey, Brooks. This is a little underwhelming."

I laughed. "Sorry to disappoint."

He smiled, and though it was still tinged with sadness, it flooded me with warmth. Skylar deserved more reasons to smile. Better reasons to smile, too.

He shouldn't be here, about to sleep on a mattress on the floor of a pub's stockroom. That was okay for me. It hardly mattered where I slept. But it wasn't nearly good enough for him.

He turned to me, gratitude shining in his eyes. "Thank you for this, Brooks."

"Of course, Sky." I hesitated, not wanting to send him spiraling again, but wanting him to know he wasn't alone. "When you're ready to face whatever comes next, I'll be here for you."

"I know I have to go home eventually." He laughed nervously. "I can't just live in the pub to avoid Blaize. God, my therapist is going to have a field day with this."

I shrugged. "Your instincts are telling you that you're not ready to see him. That's valid. And it's completely up to you what happens next, okay? If you want me to stay at your place for a while and convince this ass I'm your boyfriend for real so he leaves you alone, I'm happy to do it. If you want to look into getting a restraining order or stay here until he leaves town, that's okay, too. Whatever you need, Skylar."

His eyes welled up, and I reached for him without thinking twice. Skylar let me draw him into my arms, let me hold him close.

"Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'd survive, because you're strong." I buried my nose in his herb-scented hair and breathed in. "But you don't have to worry about it because I'm not going anywhere."

My heart ached with the truth of my words. I didn't know what to make of the tenderness Skylar drew out of me. I wanted to hold him, keep him safe.

I wanted to chase the shadows from his eyes for good.

"Go home," Sky said, drawing back. "You must be exhausted after working all night. I'll be fine here."

I nodded. I couldn't very well tell him that he was in my home. "If you're sure. I could stay the night with you."

His face tightened, a wary look coming into his eyes.

"Just for comfort," I said quickly. "I wouldn't expect— I don't, uh…"

Skylar laughed at my fumbling. "Your face, Brooks. Come on. I know you're straight."

"Oh. Right." I cleared my throat. "You seemed uneasy. I just didn't want you to think…"

He continued to laugh at me, but hell if I cared. If I could lighten this night for him, even with my straight-guy idiocy, I'd take it.

"I've already asked enough of you," he said. "Go, Brooks. The whiskey did the trick. Now that there's a bed nearby, I can hardly keep my eyes open. I'll be fine."

"All right." I gestured toward the exit. "I'll open up tomorrow, so you don't need to worry about anyone disturbing you too early."

"Good." Skylar lowered himself to my bed and pulled off his shoes. "I suddenly feel like I could sleep a thousand years."

I forced myself to take a step back. "I'll let you get some rest then. Goodnight, Sky."

"Goodnight."

I rounded the corner and paused at a shelf holding extra linens to pull out a sleeping bag. I could leave, like Skylar suggested, and go crash with Sawyer or Fisher. Hell, Fisher's apartment might be empty tonight, given the way things were going for him and Hudson.

But I wasn't eager to wake up anyone at damn near three in the morning. It was difficult to acknowledge, even to myself, but I also couldn't bring myself to leave Skylar here by himself.

Maybe I should have been honest with him. Maybe he'd have invited me to share the bed. But he'd been through a difficult enough night. If he wanted to be alone, I didn't want to intrude.

I dropped the sleeping bag outside the stockroom door. I'd slept in worse places than a cozy little floor space behind the bar.

This was my home as much as any place else.