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How the fuck is she still in my head after all this time? I close my eyes, confused as to how words can simultaneously tear me apart and sew me back together again.
“I don’t know,” I whisper, kissing her forehead and avoiding saying the words on the tip of my tongue.
Because I still fucking love you.
Chapter 7
Cole – Saturday morning
Sunday leans her back into my chest, and I keep her steady on the bike with my arms around her. She’s smiling, and I kiss the heads of the snakes on back of her neck. They stretch from her nape to midway down her spine—two snakes curled together, matching the ones on my forearms. “Happy?” She hums and nods. “Good.”
We’re at our favorite lookout point, the town below us, and the sky is clear enough to gaze up at the stars. This is the place I realized I loved Sunday Winters, so it’s where I’ll tell her.
Stretching my arm out so my leathers shift down my wrist, I check my watch. “Twelve-oh-five. Officially your birthday.”
Sunday puts her arms in the air and cheers. “Happy nineteenth to me!”
I laugh and pat her thigh. “Turn around.” With the help of my grip on her waist, she faces me, her legs draped over my thighs. I take a small, poorly wrapped box out of my pocket. “Happy birthday, Sunday. Sorry about all the tape.”
She wiggles excitedly. “I love your crappy wrapping. It’s sealed with love. Thank you.” She tears off the gift wrap and opens the jewelry box. Slowly, she raises her eyes to meet mine. “Keys.”
I grin. “Keys.”
“Cole. Did you—”
“I did.”
“You … you got me my own bike?”
I frown. “What? No.”
Her cheeks flush pink. “Oh.”
“Just kidding, I did. Well, it’s more a shell of a bike, but I figure we could fix it up together.”
She squeals excitedly. “Asshole! I love you.” She kisses me after stealing the words right out of my mouth, and I grin, pulling her closer.
“I love you, too,” I say against her lips.
Her smile is wide, the droplets of green in her eyes bright. “I’d have said that even if this box was empty.”
“I know. That’s why I love you so damn much.”
My body clock wakes me up around five, and I’m in a position I’ve not been in for a long fucking time. I’m on my side and Sunday is facing me, tucked into my chest, which would be fine on its own but for the position of her leg.
It’s thrown over my hip, which means the only thing between my dick and her body are clothes.
And not many of them.
Sunday is fast asleep, her breathing deep and even. All I want is to lie here for the next few hours and burn this into my memory, but I need to workout. Exercise clears my head, and I need to plan how I’m going to keep Sunday and my cover safe until tomorrow night.
“Sunday,” I whisper, but she doesn’t stir. Instead, she shivers, and I pull the covers over her shoulder.
She mumbles what I think is a ‘thank you’, nestling closer into my body heat, and I decide my workout can wait.
For an hour, I just listen to her breathing. She sighs a few more times, frowns, too, but doesn’t kick me. Eventually, I close my eyes, too. My mind drifts and I’m close to sinking back into sleep when she speaks.
“What happened to our pillow barrier?”
