Page 87 of Sunshine

“Don’t,” he whispers. “Don’t you dare apologize to me. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

I close my eyes and lift my face, feeling the expanse of his jaw delicately slide along my cheek. “Do you regret it?” It’s a question that’s been burning on my tongue.

His eyes widen and then soften as he presses his thumb into my bottom lip. “No, of course not. Never in a million years would I regret what we did.” Relief sinks deep in my chest. He takes a deep, grounding breath and continues. “I think your need for space is a good thing—there are a lot of emotions here. I—I think it’ll be good for me, too. It’s hard to put into words, but . . . you’ve always been his. Never mine. And I’ve been trying to figure out how to reconcile that.”

I nod, knowing exactly what he means. A tectonic shift has taken place, one that changes everything. And we need a pause to come to some resolutions.

“Do you think we can really make this work?” I dare to ask. “Do you think we could . . . actually do this?”

My heartbeat skips when he smiles. “Layla,” he whispers close to my cheek, his wintergreen breath curling around my ear. “I’m learning that when it comes to you, I don’t know what I’m capable of. But I have to admit—I look forward tofinding out.”

I smile, too, and lean into his chest. He wraps his strong arms around me, and I can smell the horse he was on today. The field he rode in.

“You’ve already pushed me so far beyond my boundaries,” he says into my hair. “At the beginning, I thought my attraction to you was just something physical. You were this gorgeous freshman who walked into my math class, and I . . . I had so many thoughts about all the ways I wanted to get to know you. And then you showed up to the ranch with Jay and I knew I had to back down—but the thoughts never stopped. They were always there, a low churning in the back of my mind that I could never get relief from.

“When you fainted after we lost state, I fucking lost mymind, Layla. I was beside myself, totally out of control, carrying you to the medic team?—”

“Wait,” I gasp. “Youcarried me off the field?”

His eyes sharpen. “You didn’t know?”

I shake my head. “I thought it was Jason . . . my mom let me believe . . .” I trail off.

His eyes grow wistful. Almost sad. “It’s okay. It was probably better that way. I acted inappropriately. I’m surprised Jason never came for me then, but he was so wrapped up in the loss?—”

“No.” I shake my head. “I’ve been lied to enough.” A tendril of humiliation weaves through my gut, knowing all the ways Jason lied to me. The ways my mom manipulated me. “I want the truth. Always. Okay?”

“You’ll always have it from me,” he promises. “Actually,” he adds, eyes bouncing to my boots, “there’s something else that’s always bothered me . . .”

“What?”

The right side of his mouth lifts, but his eyes grow wistful. “Those boots.”

I exhale, already knowing where this is going. “Jason never knew I wanted them,” I say. “But you did.”

He nods once. “I asked Melody for them for your birthday . . . but then I chickened out.” He lets out a humorless laugh. “I brought it up to Jason, told him Melody wanted you to have them, even told him he could say they were from him.”

I shake my head. “Why would you do that?”

He shrugs. “I wanted you to have them, even if you never knew where they really came from. But every time you wear them . . . it’s always been a little hard to swallow.”

Tears well in my eyes and I pull him into a hug. His arms are warm and strong as they wrap around me—this tender man who’s been hiding his feelings for so long, trying to protect the people he loves most.

I sigh into his shirt. “Let’s enjoy the time we have left. Pretend that I’m not leaving?”

He pulls back, a small smile playing on his lips. “Anything you want.”

I move back to the food, focusing on the gravy when I say, “Maybe I could stay here until I leave?”

He pauses. “Won’t your family want to see you?”

I shrug. “I’ll go back at some point to say goodbye to Annie, but . . . my mom and I got into a pretty big fight when you dropped me off the other morning. I don’t really care to see her if I can avoid it.”

“Shit,” he mutters, coming up behind me, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “How bad was it?

“She’s worried you’re corrupting me,” I admit. “Thatspending time with you will stamp away any potential I might have of being available to a more fitting suitor.”

“Damn,” he says, shaking his head. I turn just in time to catch the flicker of pain in his eyes. But then he wipes it away with a teasing smile. “Well, too bad for her, because ruining every other man’s chance at you is exactly what I intend to do.” There’s an edge to the way he says it. When his eyes drop to his feet, I realize what it is: fear.

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