Page 196 of A Million To Fall

Jake snorts. “Oh, you did. He just needed confirmation that you were messing around with Skye to really make him see red.”

“I didn’t confirm shit,” I say.

“Maybe not with words. But your silence was loud, man.” He pushes off the wall, steps toward me, and gives my good shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I’m going to go and check on things at home.” His eyes soften. “I’m sorry this happened to you, Boss. I’m sorry my mom—”

He breaks off.

I nod. “I’m sorry, too, Jake.”

Skye stands, and I hate the loss of her hand on mine.

“Where are you going? I thought you’re not leaving?” I sound decidedly like Bronx whenever I had to drop them back off with their foster parents.

She giggles. “I’m going to run home, change, and check on Cassie and Bronx, then I’ll come back with something better than hospital food to eat, okay?”

Her voice turns tender. “And I’ll stay. Right there on that extremely comfortable-looking sleeper chair.”

My eyes close when she leans down and presses a soft kiss to my lips. “Okay,” I murmur in surrender. “But only if you want to.”

She kisses me again. “I want to.”

She does return.

And she stays.

All night.

fifty-three

Skye

“You do know I’m not, like, disabled or anything, right?” Boston laughs as Jake dashes ahead to unlock the apartment door while I walk beside him, my arm hooked under his right, uninjured arm. “I just have my arm in a sling. And it’s not even my dominant side,” he adds, still laughing.

God, his laugh. It’s one of my favorite sounds in the entire world. A little raspy now, a little tired around the edges, but still so unmistakably him.

After only two days in the hospital, Boston was deemed stable enough to be discharged. He still has weeks to go before he’ll even be cleared for physical therapy, but the second they said he could go home, his whole face lit up like it was Christmas morning. It’s the most life I’ve seen in him since… well, since my engagement to Archer.

I called Jake. Caught him just as he was about to leave for St. Paul where classes will start for him in a couple of days. He insisted on making a small detour to meet us at Boston’s place for “a proper goodbye.”

“Why don’t you do me a favor, shut up and let us help you, for fuck’s sake,” Jake says with a chuckle.

Once we’re inside, Jake steps toward Boston. “I gotta hit the road.” He carefully pulls Boston into a one-armed hug, mindful of the sling, then pulls back. “I’m coming home every weekend.”

Boston shakes his head. “Jake, you don’t nee—”

Jake presses his index finger to Boston’s lips. “Shh,” he hisses, making me cackle very unladylike. “I’ll be here every weekend. I know Skye plans to make regular trips, but it’s a hell of a lot harder for her to make a six-hour drive than for me to make a one-hour trek. Sure, I’m not as beautiful as she is, and I definitely won’t put out for you, but I make a mean bowl of buttered noodles.”

Boston laughs, the sound hoarse but genuine. “Those buttered noodles once a week are going to be life-sustaining.”

“You know it. Alright.” Jake glances between us and grins. “I’ll leave the two lovebirds to it. Boss, if there’s anything you need, call me!”

The door clicks shut behind Jake, and I look up at Boston. “You hungry?”

He stretches, his one good arm sweeping overhead, and I catch the flicker of fatigue in his features. “Not really. I think I’m gonna take a quick shower,” he says, voice trailing off as he turns toward the master bedroom.

“I’ll help you.”

He glances over his shoulder. “Stormy, I don’t need—” He stops himself mid-sentence, his eyes darkening as a slow smirk spreads across his lips. “Actually… yeah, maybe I do need help in the shower.”