26. Skyler

I can’t look.

Fuck that, I can’t not look.

It’s like watching a car wreck.

She opens up my profile. A smile warbles across her lips and she does her damndest to keep a straight face.

“That’s it. Hand it back.”

I reach for the phone, and she twists to the side, surprisingly quick for such a little thing.

Unfortunately for her, I’m far stronger.

I’m on my feet, stretching over her to grab the phone, but she tucks into a little ball. God damn it, clearly living with Josh has trained her how to deal with larger bullies.

I wrap an arm around her middle and lift her out of her chair.

She squawks, laughing. “I’m not done yet!”

“You’re done. Give it back.”

She’s squirming against my bare chest, which would probably send very confused signals south, but some of that wiggling includes very sharp elbows to my ribs. Grunting, I toss her over my shoulder and plop her down on the couch.

Bracing her wrists together in one hand, I press them over her head and easily pluck the phone from her outstretched hands.

I grin, turning down to look at her, and my eyes lock with hers. Then I’m looking at her plump lips, parted as she pants from exertion.

The moment hovers on a knife’s edge, it could go either way. I’m thinking about kissing her when she lodges her knees against my abdomen and pushes.

I slide to the side, letting her come up for air. She pushes her hair out of her face. “Okay, you can take the steering wheel. Just let me look over your shoulder.”

I consider this for a few seconds. “Fine.”

She scoots up alongside me and I throw my arm over the couch. She brings her knees up and they fall to the side, leaning on my lap.

I hold my phone in front of us. “Now, what was so funny about this profile picture? Zipper is a beautiful dog.”

“That she is. And she is also a dog. Unless you’re trying to set up doggie play dates, I suggest you put a picture of you on there.”

“Shouldn’t they like me for who I am on the inside? And for my dog?”

“That’s not your dog, that’s Mitch’s dog. And yes, they should like you for your innards, but they also have a right to know if you’re a serial killer in a clown suit.”

She pauses. “How is Mitch, anyway?”

“Doing good. He lives up by Boulder. If you think I’m a womanizer, you should see him.”

“I didn’t say you were a womanizer. And he’s always been very popular with the ladies. That doesn’t surprise me.”

“I always forget you two were in the same class.”

A horrifying thought occurs to me. “You two never…”

“No. God, no.”

She shakes her head. “The only guy I dated in high school was Alec Wiese.”

“Who the fuck is Alec Wiese?”

“From Blue Creek. You don’t know him. We met at summer camp and he was my first…”

I grimace. “I don’t want to hear about that.”

She pokes at my side. “Aren’t you supposed to be my sex guru? How are we supposed to make any progress if you don’t want to hear the sordid details?”

“I’ll use my imagination.”

Bringing the phone back into her field of vision, I flick through my profile pictures. “I do have human pictures, too.”

She lets me hold the phone, but scrolls across the pictures. “Not bad. Acceptable.”

She scrolls down. “Why didn’t you put anything in the career field?”

“I’m trying to avoid gold diggers.”

She laughs. “This might shock you, but most people don’t associate farming with wealth. And even if they did, doesn’t she have a right to know what type of career you’re in?”

“Maybe.”

“No, not maybe. Yes. In fact, maybe you ought to post a profile on Farmer’s Only.”

“No way. I might know some of those chicks.”

She settles in, stretching her legs out so her feet rest on the ottoman. “Okay, so these non-Silver Bend ladies, why haven’t any of them worked out?”

I sigh gustily, stretching my legs out beside hers.

She pokes my leg with the ball of her foot. “Answer the question, Thomas.”

I let my head flop back, rubbing at my temples. “I feel like I’m at confession and I’m not even Catholic.”

“And I’m not a priest. What sins have you committed?”

I toss the phone to my side. “Well, they tend to frown on sneaking out once they fall asleep.”

“You don’t.”

“And they also don’t like it if you don’t call them the next day. Or respond to their texts.”

“Skyler!”

“I know, I know. I’m a dirt bag. I never said I was a good guy.”

“You are a good guy, dumb ass. But the first thing you’re going to do is delete that app.”

She reaches over my lap to snag my phone. Quicker than I can respond, she uninstalls the app.

“Well, now what am I supposed to do? A man has needs.”

I watch her pick up her own phone. “What are you doing? You’re downloading the app you just made me delete?”

“A woman has needs.”

She laughs, jerking the phone away when I try to take it from her.

“Not while I’m fucking you, you don’t.”