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“What are you talking about? That program sounds perfect for you.”
“I’m not that good,” I say, touching his leg.
He freezes, pulling my arm toward him. “Hey,” he says in a sharp tone, and I glare at him, waiting for his next words. “Don’t talk about my girlfriend like that.”
When he winks, my cheeks explode into a smile. I have to bite my lip from looking like a real idiot.
“Promise me you’ll look into it, okay?” He squeezes my fingers again, touching them to his lips, and I have to nod my head because who can say no to that?
The doorbell rings, and he pops up to get our dinner. While I wait, I try to settle the worry bubbling in my chest. He comes back with a bag of food that makes my mouth water when I get a whiff of the spicy chicken and rice.
We eat right out of the cartons, and I struggle to keep the smile off my face. When I catch a glimpse of the mural behind him, I see the last quarter of the wall waiting to be finished. Then I remember what he told his sister about his plans for his PR and my painting.
“So, when were you going to tell me you were going to advertise my art with influencers?” I ask through a bite of chow mein.
“I figured you knew. What idiot would keep this a secret?” he asks, gesturing toward the pool house. “But you know, summer is winding down, Sunny. The sooner we get it out there, the better.”
I swallow down my anxiety and a spoonful of rice. “I know.”
“You’re almost done, baby,” he says, touching my leg. “Tomorrow, you can do nothing but work, okay? I won’t bother you all day.”
I can't do much to hide the slouching disappointment in my body language, which makes him laugh.
“You’ll have breaks, of course.” With a wink, he laughs, and I can’t stop myself from leaning forward and pressing my lips against his. He pulls me onto his lap and drops his chopsticks, winding his arms around my waist and holding me tight against his body.
CHAPTER 26
ALEXANDER
Keeping my promise, I lace up my running shoes and knock on the pool house window, letting her know I’m leaving. She’s been on the top rung of the scaffolding since sunrise. To be honest, I need to clear my head for a minute. It feels like everything has been going a mile a minute since two nights ago—the best fucking day of my life.
It’s a cool morning, a welcome cloudy sky for running. For the first mile, I don’t think about anything. I let my mind quiet and go silent.
On the second mile, I replay every moment of the week. When I watched her touch herself and pumped my own dick on the couch. When she wrapped those pretty lips around my cock, and I carried her all the way up to the bedroom. When she welcomed me between her legs, never making me feel ashamed or wrong for wanting her so bad. And the way she wanted me back.
In my head, I was writing up excuses for letting myself have Sunny. I had pre-written speeches ready, detailing every reason I shouldn’t feel bad for this, such as her being such a good influence on me, keeping me grounded and happy. Although I assumed I’d have to say these things to my sister, I knew the person I was really convincing was myself.
These runs are always great for opening up the real deep shit.
Of course, all of these things were true. Sunny wasn’t like other twenty-year-old girls. She had more life behind her eyes than someone twice her age.
But that is beside the point. The point is that I don’t have to defend Sunny or our relationship to myself or anyone. Fuck, I’ve been happier in the last forty-eight hours than I’ve been since I was nineteen. I don’t feel like I’m indulging or flying off the handle. I feel like I’m falling the fuck in love, and maybe that’s what scares the shit out of me.
I’ve never truly been in love before. I wasn’t even thirty before I just resolved myself to believe that I wasn’t capable of it. Some are built for the long haul, but I was convinced that in all of my relationships if I hadn’t found it by now, then I never would.
And it’s not about Sunny’s age anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time. I don’t know the exact moment that I stopped seeing a number when I looked at her, and I know no one would believe it, but who the fuck cares? My attraction to Sunny goes far beyond her years.
It’s about her little mannerisms, the way she bites her lip while she paints, the adorable way she curls up in on herself no matter what she’s sitting on, the little pen sketches all over her legs like she can’t bear not to be creating something and will use her own body as a canvas if she needs to. I love the way her eyebrows crease when she’s mad at me, how she’s so quiet and yet when she’s angry she erupts like a silent volcano. I love that she fell into my life so easily and although I hate how she was treated at home, I love that she doesn’t let it harden her. She puts herself first.
When I turn the corner to the neighborhood off the main drag, I look down at my watch and realize I hit five miles. Fuck, I really did need this run.
And I’m glad I did. As tired as I am, I’ve never been more excited to get home to her. Call me crazy, but I want to spill everything I just realized about her. About us.
Before I make the turn on my street, I see someone familiar walking ahead of me. Her black ponytail and curvy waist grab my attention. At the same moment, she spins her head and spots me.
“Hey,” Cadence calls, pulling out one of her AirPods.
I slow to walk next to her. “Hey, Cadence.” Our greeting is respectful, cordial, but as soon as we’ve gotten through the usual how are yous, there’s an awkward tension in our conversation.
