Page 67 of Sunshine

Wells gives him a lopsided smile. “Promise you what?”

Jason’s smile slips. “That we’ll be best friends forever.”

Wells’s eyes soften but his smile doesn’t waver. “Brothers, Jay. Forever.”

Jason nods, and then he looks at me.

And I think . . . I think we might just be okay after all. As long as we hold on to this love, we can make it through anything.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

NOW

Two days after the . . .incidentwith Wells, I feel like I’m climbing out of my skin. I haven’t talked to him at all, though the urge to text him grows so strong I end up shutting my phone away in a drawer in my bedroom, as if hiding it under a silky pink pajama set might lessen the impulse.

It’s not that I’m avoiding him—not really. I’m just not sure what to say, and I can’t imagine a lameHeythrough text would make me feel any less nervous about the state of our relationship.

Or . . . lack thereof.

Because technically, we shouldn’t have one.

Jason’s death and cheating have been the hardest things I’ve ever experienced, but this recent whirlwind with Wells is a third blow I’m not sure I can navigate without crumbling. I try to process how I’m feeling about what happened between us, and it’s like the hardwiring of my heart is fried. I’ve always caredabout Wells as a friend, enough that I’ve been hurt in the past when he’s pulled away. But now knowing the feelings he’s harbored all this time, the feelings that rushed through me as I kissed him down by the river, or when I straddled him in his truck . . .

I shudder as a flush crawls up my neck. There’s no denying that my libido is in full working condition. And it wants Wells.

He’s all I can think about, and even though my feelings are a mess right now, I know I want to be near him. These two days without him have felt like holding my breath underwater, waiting desperately to surface. It’s what drove me to text Regan this morning, asking if she had plans tonight.

When she replied that she didn’t, it felt like fate. Wells has been spending most evenings helping his brothers behind the bar at Wild Coyote, and I can’t find a good reason that should stop Regan and me from casually popping in. Worst-case scenario he’s not there, and Regan and I enjoy a drink and have another attempt at catching up where Ihopefullydon’t cry. Best case? Wellsisthere, and . . . well, I’m not sure what that would mean.

My biggest insecurity is that he regrets everything that happened. I haven’t reached out yet, but neither has he, and I can’t help but mentally trip over why that might be. It would make sense for him to, since I’ve been his best friend’s girl for five and a half years . . . but I know how incredible it felt to be with him likethat, even for just a few fleeting moments, and there’s no way he didn’t feel it too.

The chemistry was undeniable.

Regan and I meet at the gazebo in the middle of the town square with plans to walk together to the bar. It’s safe to assume we’ll both have a few drinks, and aside from a handfulof lifts Gus gives out in the mornings before Mustang’s Pizza opens, rideshare apps don’t exist in Saddlebrook Falls.

I get there first and try not to feel silly standing alone on the bright-green lawn. The skirt of my yellow dress sways in the breeze, and I close my jean jacket tight across my chest to block the chill. It’s a night better suited for jeans and a sweater, but I felt compelled to wear my boots with the embroidered yellow flowers. I haven’t worn them since I left for New York, and I forgot how much I love them.

When Regan spots me from the end of the street that leads to her neighborhood, I can feel her calculating my emotional state. I don’t blame her—I wasn’t exactly fine when I saw her earlier this week. Still, something within me has irrevocably changed, as if my very DNA has been rearranged.

“Hey!” she calls out from the edge of the lawn. I realize she’s wearing heels—I don’t think I’ve ever seen Regan in heels—and I walk to meet her so she doesn’t have to step into the grass.

“Hi,” I say back, smiling. “You look great!” I take in her slim-fitted jeans and beautiful ivory satin top beneath a tan blazer. She looks nothing like the girl who left home two years ago with ribbons in her hair. Tallahassee has been good for her.

“Thanks,” she says coyly. “I actually have a date tonight.”

My eyes widen. “I thoughtwewere going out!”

She laughs. “We are. At least for a while—David is picking me up for karaoke in Williamson around nine.”

“David?!” I squeal.

Her smile slips into something more bashful. “We’ve been . . . texting.”

“Regan, he’s been our friend since we were fourteen years old. We all text.”

“Yeah but, I mean like,texting.”

“Oh,” I say. I’m . . . shocked. I never would have seen something like this coming, but I love Regan and David so much and would be thrilled if they found happiness in each other.

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