The Endless Road to Sunshine - Nicky James Page 0,40

in front of me. I didn’t have time to think or process or prepare. He took my face in his hands and kissed me, stealing my breath. It took me half a second to catch up, but when I did, I snagged his shirt, dragging him closer still as I relished the feel of his lips against mine and the press of his body. There was a heady taste of beer in the mix, reminding me he’d had a lot to drink, but I didn’t care.

It ended far too quickly. He dropped his forehead against mine and cursed. “Shit. I… We can’t do this. I gotta go.”

He unlocked the back door of his building and vanished inside before my mind caught up. I was too late to stop him, and for a second, I wondered if I’d imagined the whole thing.

But as I stood there under the wash of a yellow security light in the dark and drafty parking structure, I could still feel him on my lips and taste him on my tongue. The impression of his firm hands holding my face remained.

Dizzy from the effect of the simple kiss, buzzing and more than a little turned on, I headed for home, floating on a cloud of lust.

Dr. Palmer was indeed gay and interested.

This wasn’t over.

Chapter Nine

Jason

With my head on the cool surface of the desk in my office and my eyes pinched closed, I prayed the ibuprofen would kick in and alleviate the wretched headache that had taken hold at some point over the weekend and hadn’t let go.

Friday night drinking had turned into Saturday morning regret. That regret had turned into Saturday night drinking, which had turned into Sunday night drinking and a horrific hangover laced with guilt and shame and nausea.

And a pounding headache.

Again.

I’d told Levi off in a cryptic, drunken text at some point Friday night after Skylar had taken me home, then I’d turned off my phone, ignoring his incessant calls and messages for the rest of the weekend.

It was Monday morning, and my ancient civilizations class was scheduled to begin in twenty minutes. Memories of kissing Skylar were still ripe and vivid in my brain. Part of me blamed the alcohol, but a bigger part of me knew it was a lie. His travel stories and bubbly personality had sucked me in. There was something about him that enraptured me. He was nothing like I’d expected. Where I’d once seen an immature, bratty student who couldn’t shut up, I now saw a whole different person.

Skylar’s surprising maturity and worldliness shone as bright as his smile. When he talked, when he focused all his attention on me, all my troubles seemed to vanish for a little while. It was such a peaceful feeling, I reveled in it. For some stupid reason, I hadn’t been able to walk away Friday night even when I knew indulging in anything Skylar was wrong.

Regret was a real thing. Nausea bloomed in my gut, filling my mouth with excess saliva I had to swallow down. The idea of what Morgan would have done had he witnessed Skylar’s ceaseless flirting or the kiss we’d shared outside my building made me want to pack my bags and leave the country. It was too easy to impose Skylar’s face on any number of the gruesome crime scene photos.

If that wasn’t enough, a deeper, darker part of me wondered if Skylar was any different than Morgan. I’d spent years in love with a man I thought I knew. We’d planned a future together, talked about children, made love, laughed, and collected so many memories.

But I hadn’t known Morgan at all. None of it had been real.

Skylar was an enigma, but I didn’t know him either.

How easy had it been for Morgan to mislead me? To pass off lies as truths?

How much did we really know anyone?

Wasn’t life nothing more than smoke and mirrors?

I shoved myself upright and prayed the room didn’t spin. Peeling my eyes open, I scanned, assessing my headache and deciding it was moderately better.

I had more things to worry about than my drunken mistake in the parking lot the other night. Skylar was on the verge of discovering my true identity. My options for what to do about it were dwindling. I could cross my fingers and hope he missed a key piece of the puzzle while researching—a highly unlikely scenario, or I could approach Dr. Vescovi and request she remove Morgan as a subject for the case studies, which