by Anne Martin
She should probably talk about it. She’d spent a week in her house crying. She needed to talk. She couldn’t exactly talk to her best girlfriend. I felt awkward, like I should have put on something nicer than a t-shirt and jeans.
“Sit down,” she said, pulling out a chair.
“And they say that chivalry is dead. This is perfect.”
She slapped a bloody steak on my plate. “I took you for a rare man.”
She smiled and then left her own to cook a bit longer. I carved it up, but I kept looking at her and almost sawed my thumb off. She looked so good, so nice. I shouldn’t kiss nice girls just because I had my arms around them and they smelled like insecticide.
I cleared my throat. “I apologize for kissing you.”
She froze with a bite of salad halfway to her mouth. She put it down and stared at me. “Why’s that?”
I rubbed my chin and got some grease on it. I grabbed one of the napkins and cleaned my hands carefully. “Your good friends have left you in something of a mess. I wouldn’t want you to let me take advantage of you just because you aren’t thinking straight.”
She started laughing, really quite the most adorable thing in the world. “That’s very sweet of you. I wanted to kiss you, otherwise I wouldn’t have kissed you back. I liked kissing you. I paid you twenty bucks for that first kiss. Is this your subtle way of suggesting that I need to pay you for that one too? It was at most two minutes, so probably only worth two bucks, don’t you think?”
“Hm. It was a shady bet since I got what I wanted and it wasn’t money.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You wanted to kiss me? I’m so vanilla with vanilla sprinkles in a vanilla cone.”
I grinned at her and leaned over the table. “I like vanilla.”
“That’s convenient, because that’s the color of your couch.”
I nodded and sat back. That bit of the tangle was resolved. Still, she needed to talk about the whole drama. Maybe she wasn’t ready. It would make her feel better. Unless it made her feel worse.
“You must think I’m insane,” she said, sawing into her steak like it was Daniel. I could hope.
“Only moderately. Clinging to gutters might be a new fad for all I know.”
She shot me a look and shook her head. “Rolling around in the leaves with Daniel didn’t seem odd to you? Thanks, by the way. You didn’t need to rake the leaves, or stand there looking uncomfortable.”
“I didn’t look uncomfortable. I looked totally at-ease and cool.”
“If you say so. Is your name really Nix, like nix that?”
“Yep. I know, Brute is better. And you’re really Sunshine Ray?”
She shrugged. “Do you want to hear the story about my name? It’ll make you cry.”
“I love a good cry.”
She looked down at her steak and I realized that she hadn’t touched it. She turned her plate clockwise and then counterclockwise. “My mother died when she had me. No, she was dead before they cut me out of her. My parents had picked out a name while she was dying. Sunshine Ray, because they didn’t want me to feel like my life wasn’t a gift, even though it killed the only thing my dad loved, well, that and the Camaro.”
She looked up at me with a sunny smile that went all the way to her eyes. How could she smile like that after she told that kind of story? I closed my eyes really tight for a few seconds before I opened them and shrugged.
“No tears. Sorry. It’s a good story, though.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You aren’t shocked?”
“People die. People are born. Dying in childbirth is the ultimate encapsulation of life.”
“And death.”
I nodded.
She exhaled, kind of deflating. She’d been waiting for some kind of reaction, not my lack of one. Was I being too tough on her? Did she want sympathy? No. She didn’t want it any more than I did. She was a stoic. She’d make the best of it and expect others to respect her ability to keep it together.
“What do you think I should do about the Daniel thing?” she asked.
“I think that you should seduce Christina and leave Daniel at the altar.”
She laughed and then shook her head, surprised at her reaction. “Seriously.”
“Seriously. I also think you should pretend to be dating me to make them both jealous.”
She shook her head. “I don’t date.”
“Right. In that case, you should have a meaningless fling with me that makes them both jealous.”
“You have a high aptitude for mischief. You’re so willing to be used in my hijinks. Why is that?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t I mention how much I liked kissing you?”
“Hm. I probably knocked a few screws loose when I fell on your head. Thanks for that. Somehow you managed to catch me without hurting me, and you were on top of me without crushing me.” She blushed.
I licked my lips. “I know you like it soft. I’m never going to hurt you, Kitten, not unless I break your heart, but conveniently, you’re in love with someone else.”
“Conveniently? You really prefer to be with someone who loves someone else? Ugh!” She put her head on the table. “I really love him.”
“I know. He seems very nice, except for the temper and the infidelity.”
She lifted her head. “He never cheated on me because we weren’t together.”
“He cheated. You wouldn’t be so angry and he wouldn’t be so guilty otherwise. You cheated on him with me, come to think of it. It’s probably for the best that the two of you are over.”
She winced. “It’s for the best, I know, but he’s always been there for me.”
“You said you didn’t want to date for the opposite reason I don’t. I’m terrified of commitment, so you must crave it too much. Something about your parents dying probably.”
She glared at me. “You say that so casually.”
“May they rest in peace...”
She stood up and pushed back her chair. She started clearing dishes. Her hands were shaking. I took her hand and pulled her away from the table.
“What?” she demanded.
I brushed her hair back from her face. “Where I come from, when a woman cooks, the man does the dishes.”
“And vice versa?”
I nodded. “Go on home. I’ll leave everything on your back porch all tidy.”
“Now you’re sending me home? I was already leaving.”
“You can’t be mad at me unless you’re in love with me. That’s the rule. You have to be happy instead.”
She glared at me, her eyes bright with anger. She grabbed my shirt-front in her little fists. “I tell myself to be happy. No one else gets to do that. Ever.” She pulled me down and kissed me. Her lips were still soft, sweet, and trembling. I picked her up and carried her into the house. She didn’t protest until we were on the couch, just kept kissing me like she wanted to forget everything. I didn’t mind that even a little bit.
Chapter 7
Sunshine Wilson
We were kissing on the couch when I started crying. I’d meant to forget about everything in the bad boy’s soft kisses, but it was the couch that my dad always laid on when he felt like crap, and Nix wore the same cologne.
“Kitten?” He touched my face gently, his brown eyes so soft and worried. For a second he reminded me of Daniel.
I sniffed and shook my head. “Do you hate this couch? I should take it home. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You didn’t want to owe me.” He brushed my lips with his and gave me a slight smile. “If you don’t want to kiss and cry, that’s okay, but I don’t mind damp kisses whether it’s rain, shower, hose, or tears.” He kissed me again, his lips a little more intense, but still soft, still delicious. I kissed him and tried not to think about my dad and Daniel.
When I started really sobbing, he pulled away and wrapped his arms around me, tucking me against his chest. He stroked my hair while I cried.
“It’s ok
ay.”
I shook my head against his chest. “It’s really not. Not even close. My dad died of a rare genetic disease. Do you know where he met my mom? A research center for that disease because she was also a patient. They thought it would be perfect, you know, no loose ends trying to love someone who had to watch you die, but then they got pregnant, and it took so much out of her. I don’t know. Do I feel bad for taking five years of her life or should I just be angry that she chose to have me instead of staying with my dad and making him happy?”
He sighed deeply and tightened his arms around me. “Ugly, short, and brutish, but that’s extra rocks, Kitten. So that’s why you don’t want to commit, you really don’t have a future to offer anyone.” He made a sound deep in his throat that was somehow comforting.
I cried myself to sleep. When I woke up, I was in his bed, like he’d told me he’d put me the next time I fell asleep. His motorbike was big and black, and looked like a devil. Also like fun. I got out of his bed and climbed on his bike feeling ridiculous in my pretty summer dress.
“Vroom,” he said from the doorway.
I scrambled off. “Sorry.”
He shrugged. “What for?”
“It looks like something I shouldn’t touch.”
He grinned all dangerous. “Touch anything you want, Kitten. I’ll return the favor.” He winked at me.
I exhaled and sat down on the bed. I stared at him while he leaned in the doorway, wearing a snug t-shirt that showed off his very muscular body. “What kind of exercise do you do to make your muscles so bumpy?”
He looked down at his stomach. “Do you want better abs? I think softness suits you, Kitten.” He threw himself down on the bed next to me. The white duvet was kind of modern and minimalist, like the rest of the house, except for the motorbike. I wasn’t sure what that was.
“What are you doing?”
“Laying on my bed next to you. Is it exciting?” He tugged me over until I had crashed onto his chest. He brushed my hair back while I propped my chin on my hands and stared at him.
I was nervous, also confused, and so tired. “I don’t know.”
“Maybe we should start where we’re at. I’m your neighbor who you think is kind of beautiful and kind of a good kisser, right?”
I shrugged. His body shook as he laughed. He was so warm and hard, but gentle.
“Okay. We’ll take that as a yes. You are the beautiful, untouchable good girl with a terminal illness, so no future to speak of, right?”
I wrinkled my nose. “You don’t pull punches.”
“Depends on the circumstances. I know you like some things gentle, but let’s do truth, just as a change of pace from your friend Daniel.” He shuddered. “Proposing after you found him with Stina? So tacky. Also, he knows you aren’t going to marry anyone and ruin their lives. He knew that you’d reject him, and that you’d feel bad for rejecting him, so he wanted you to feel bad.”
I laughed and smooshed his cheeks. It was so weird to be so close to someone that wrong for me. “You’re over-thinking. Daniel wants me to feel secure, to know that he’ll never change.”
“Some things should change. He needs to move on, don’t you think? I also could use some practice pretending to grow up and settle down. Did I just say that? Don’t tell my mother.”
“You have a mother? I thought people like you came from chimneys.”
He frowned. “Chimneys? I don’t even smoke. I used to smoke like a chimney. You probably smell the residual nicotine, but that doesn’t mean much. I’d rather come from a chimney than from my mother’s terrifying womb.”
I snuggled against his side, getting cozy on his chest. “What’s she like?”
“She’s from Mobile. She married a Yankee so they divorced two years after I was born when she realized that he didn’t understand how a god-fearing southern gentleman should behave.”
“How’s that?”
“Your Daniel is a prime example. All upright and upfront except for his closet where he keeps all his skeletons. My dad wasn’t the best at keeping his skeletons locked up.”
“He had affairs?”
He snorted and rubbed my hair. “Not that kind of skeletons. Business fraud, that kind of thing.”
“Oh. Do you like him?”
He shook his head. “No. He’s a viper.”
“You like your mother better?”
“Oh, no. She’s much worse.”
I shook my head and rolled off him to stare at the ceiling. People who had parents should appreciate something about them.
He laughed and tugged me back beside him. “I know, little orphan girl can’t understand how having parents no matter what they were like wouldn’t be better.”
I tugged him over me and stretched up to kiss him. He was so nice to kiss. He smiled, I could feel the curl of his lips before he kissed me in earnest, so sweet, soft, slow.
His hand slid down my waist to my hip and I had this weird shock, like here I was on some guy’s bed when Daniel was the one I loved. I pushed against him and he obliged, rolling off me and smiling at me.
“I’m sorry. I know I’m blowing hot and cold, but…”
He shrugged. “I’m flexible.”
I stared at him because he was so apathetic but at the same time easy and willing. “What would I owe you if you agreed to be my boyfriend? I just mean a faux boyfriend for a short amount of time.”
“What’s your timetable?”
“Timetable?”
“When are you going to die? Your dad lived until he was what, forty?”
I shook my head. “Thirty-five. He died when I was seventeen. The thing is with the combination of my parent’s genetics, it’s a miracle I made it to twenty. I’m twenty-two. I have six months or something.” I shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal to say that out loud.
He closed one eye like he was calculating. “Six months good health?”
I shrugged. “It comes and goes. Goes when I drink alcohol and don’t rest up, comes when I eat like an old lady and take lots of naps.”
“Like a kitten. Suits you. So, it’s September, that’ll give you until February. Terrible month to die. Are you sure that’s your target? March would be better.”
I stared at him. “Seriously?”
He grinned at me and pinched my nose. “So, here’s the payment, Thanksgiving at my mother’s. You’d have to tell her all about how many babies we’re going to have.”
I wrinkled my nose. “You want me to lie to her?”
He shrugged. “Unless you want to talk about your schedule. If you do that, I’ll be the kind of boyfriend you can take home to your Aunt Willie. It won’t be pretend, just temporary.”
“Temporary? You don’t think six months is too long?”
“I think you’ll get tired of dating me before then. The only reason you’d go for it is because you want to be normal and give Daniel a chance at some closure.” He shrugged again. “It’ll be fun.”
I rolled off the bed and grabbed his hand. “Okay. Come on, darling. It’s almost time for church.”
He got a scandalized look on his face. “What did you say?”
I dragged him outside and to Aunt Willie’s house. When we got to the front door, Aunt Willie opened it before I could.
“Hey there! Look what I brought home. Nix is my boyfriend. Isn’t he handsome? I need to give him a trim before we go to church together. Would you grab the haircutting box from the basement? Thanks so much!” I walked past my aunt, dragging him along.
“Ma’am,” he said, nodding at her like a proper beaux.
This would probably last no longer than twenty-four hours, but I’d make the most of it. In a few minutes, I had him sitting in the kitchen on a stool swathed in the plastic bib.
“Tell me you know what you’re doing,” he said in a low voice.
My Aunt Willie stood in the doorway watching us. She was going to ask me a million questions the second he was out of sight.
“I always cut my dad’s hair.
”
“Mm hm.” He shook his head and closed his eyes. “It’s been awhile since I buzzed it, but that’s always an option. Go ahead, Kitten. Do your worst.”
I rolled my eyes and started snipping and shaping his hair to his very well-sculpted head. I’d been cutting my dad’s hair since I was ten, then I started doing Daniel’s hair. I would do the razor style that grew out nicely and looked incredibly sharp. I ran my hands through his hair, enjoying the feel of silky strands. I took my time, walking around him in my bare feet, leaning over him so my chest was in his face like I didn’t notice.
He had his eyes closed. No, he didn’t. He was watching me, and his hand slid along my waist as I circled him. I shivered and smoothed the top out of the way and trimmed the sides. I leaned against him while I worked, enjoying the feel of him. He wasn’t Daniel, but that was okay. I needed to let him go. Maybe hanging onto something else would help with that.
When I finished brushing him off and untied the plastic bib, he grabbed me around the waist and pulled me in for a quick kiss that was so sweet and soft before he let me go and ran a hand through his hair.
“It’s short.”
“Come on, Brute.” I took his hand and hauled him into the room where my dad’s stuff was still hanging in the closet. I went through looking for nice shirts. Nothing was big enough.
“Do we want a Daniel kind of look? I’ve got something at home,” he said, pulling me against him while his hands pressed against my stomach. His lips found my ear and nuzzled me with those velvet lips.
I swallowed and put my hands over his. “If you don’t mind. Church is kind of proper.”
“I’ll be back in fifteen.”
He left me there, moving fast and leaving me in the room that was kind of a depressing shrine to my parents. My dad’s shrine to my mother, my shrine to him, my aunt’s shrine to all of us, because she’d kept all the life moments of mine out and around including the pink tooth fairy pillow.
She was waiting in the living room, perched on the couch all proper.