Page 57 of Sunshine

I frown, wondering if it offends him that I’m wearing another guy’s hat—but it’sWells. I almost take it off and leave it behind, but I don’t want to make things weirder than they already are. So I take a deep breath, give Champ another quick rub, and mount him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

NOW

We drive down an old country road for almost thirty minutes in utter silence as Wells chews gum with the dedication of a chain smoker, replacing the spent piece in his mouth with a new one three times along the way. If he’s nervous, it’s hard to tell. There’s still no real sign he doesn’t want me in his truck, but it does little to quiet the steady hum of nerves that swell inside me.

Finally, he slows to turn down a dirt road. It’s not well-maintained—there are tall weeds and old roots that he carefully navigates through—but he seems to know where he’s going. After winding through a tunnel of low-hanging trees whose branches brush against the windshield as we pass, the road opens up to a clearing of wild grass.

A meadow.

We drive through it to the other side before Wells stops and shifts the truck to park. I look around, surprised that we’restopping here, but ahead of us is a copse of trees so dense there’s no way he’d be able to steer the truck through it.

“Where are we?” I ask.

“Come on,” he says, then gets out and waits for me, keeping his gaze forward on what’s ahead.

Stepping down into the tall grass in my sandals, I shuffle through it until I’m standing next to him. A breeze kicks up, pushing my hair off my shoulder and igniting a riot of goosebumps along the back of my neck. Thank god I had the forethought to tug on my jacket earlier. My shoes, however . . .

“It’s a bit of a hike,” he says. And then he stalks forward, walking through the grass like it’s nothing. I suppose itisnothing for him in his boots. But I don’t complain.

I’m the one who asked for this.

I do my best to stay close enough to follow the small path he’s creating with the disturbance of his long strides. He’s right that it’s a bit of a hike, but it’s mostly flat and the cool weather helps to keep it bearable.

It must be twenty minutes before the ground beneath us begins to dip, a steep hill of overgrown trees and brush so thick there’s no clear path through. Wells pauses to turn around and face me, lowering his gaze to my shoes. He looks back up at me with an unreadable expression.

“I wasn’t expecting to traipse through the Forbidden Forest today,” I say in defense of my gem-studded Steve Maddens.

He snorts before turning back around, bending his knees, and kneeling low in front of me. “Come on,” he says.

“Uh, come where?”

He gives a pointed look over his shoulder before clearing his throat. “Climb on.”

I finally realize what he’s asking. “No thanks,” I protest,shaking my head as if he can see me. “I can make it.” I sidestep around him to march on, but he reaches out to wrap a warm hand around my wrist. His calloused palm glides against my skin and the shock of the contact is a current up my spine.

He pulls me back to face him, his eyes a kaleidoscope of browns and golds in the spotted light of the sun. “You’re not making it ten feet in those poor excuses for footwear.”

I scoff, making a show of looking offended even though this feels like the first easy breath I’ve taken since getting into his truck. “I’ve gotten all the wayherewith them, haven’t I?”

The corner of his mouth lifts, and it’s a bone-deep relief. “Because you’ve been walking in the path I set like an eager little bear cub,” he jabs.

“Again, I didn’t realize we’d end up in the middle of literal uncharted territory.”

He shifts his weight onto one foot, his smile fading. His expression grows irritated, but I can tell he’s trying to hide it. “You told me to take you anywhere.”

“Yeah.” I nod. “It could have been the bowling alley. Or the mall.”

His eyes narrow. “Oh, I’m sorry. Forgive me for thinking you needed an escape from town and not a fuckingshoppingtrip,” he says. “There’s clearly something going on, and I’m trying to help.”

His words pierce me right in the chest because that’s exactly what I asked of him.

I think you should find someone else to be there for you.

I let out a breath. “I’m sorry,” I say. “For even coming to you after . . . after you asked me not to.”

His face softens. “Layla, you can always ask me for help.That’s not what I meant.” He swipes a thumb against the wrist he’s still holding before pulling his hand back.

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