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“It has been. I should’ve been here more,” Sky mumbles as he hugs her.
“No guilt here.” She turns to me. “Maverick, right? The team’s meeting in the gym. Do you remember where that is?”
“I’ll take him.” He hooks his arm around mine.
“Don’t leave before we have a chance to catch up,” she scolds him.
Sky speed-walks us along the greenish gray linoleum hall. “Sorry, I didn’t think about the staff.” He turns away from the gym to the hall with all the offices. It’s lined with eight-by-ten photos of kids. “I’m there.” He points to a picture of himself.
“Sky?” My mind can’t make sense of his portrait here. But I’m more shocked to see a picture of Emmet, Jayce McKenna’s husband, next to him.
“We’re the success stories. The it-can-happen-to-you guys.” His fingers sink into my jacket until he grips my arm. “Emmet and I met through The Q Solutions, and we trauma-bonded.” Sky inhales, his chest expanding. “He helped me change my name to Lark. He’s seen my website, and also, one of your teammates used to be a regular client. I’m sorry.”
I’m slow to process what his words mean. “Sorry. Why would you be sorry? Sky, were you homeless?” My mind rejects the idea, but my heart already knows the answer.
His head barely moves an inch to confirm.
“Fuck. It was my fault,” I blurt out, and Sky drops my arm.
“You are not responsible for my choices,” he says emphatically, holding his head high. “I understand if this changes things between us.”
“No,” I yell so loud it echoes around the empty hallway. It takes effort to push my guilt down so I can be what he needs. “I’m the one who should be sorry that you had to go through that,” I say, raising my palms in surrender. “Can I have a minute to be upset? If it were reversed, you’d be…” I trail off, imagining the hell he would bring to anyone he thought was to blame for my problems. My hand stretches toward him, and he takes it.
We sag into each other with unspoken promises.
“We’ll talk more later, after this?” I ask, hoping to understand better.
“Sure. Let’s show the kids how to pursue their dreams and become a camboy,” Sky quips with a tight smile and walks away with his spine rigid.
Sky and I are split into different groups when we reach the gym. The kids who come regularly are put into groups with us to talk to prospective newbies regarding the programs offered.
The night’s a huge success, and Joanne asks us to hang around for a minute to review the numbers.
I notice Sky lets King hug him, but Sky glances warily as O’Keefe towers over him with clenched fists. I’d bet every penny I have that King used to be Sky’s client because Sky doesn’t react well to strangers or acquaintances touching him. And there’s no other reason for O’Keefe to look murderous.
Something or someone made Sky anxious about hands on him.
My feet are moving before my brain decides the best way to approach the situation. I wedge myself between O’Keefe and Sky with a fake smile.
“You ready to go?” I ask, and step onto O’Keefe’s foot so he’s forced to give us space.
“Let me say goodbye to Joanne, or she’ll kill me,” he says, and I take his hand.
“I’ll go with you. See you in the morning, boys,” I say to King and O’Keefe.
“Careful, your jealousy is showing,” Sky says, but he looks smug about it.
Silently, I wait as Joanne and Sky briefly catch up and say goodbye.
Sky waits until we’re in the rideshare to say, “You know King’s a former client, don’t you?”
“It bothers me a shit ton more that you were homeless,” I say defensively. “I’m doing the best I can.”
We ride in silence, but Sky rests his head on my shoulder.
After I swing my apartment door open, Sky freezes in the doorway as he digests what he’s seeing.
“I should’ve warned you.” With my hand at the small of his back, I steer him into the living room filled with furniture he recognizes from my childhood. “Say something.” His face doesn’t give me any clues into what he’s thinking.
