Page 67 of Waiting for Sunshine

I text Hugh to accept the position, then toss my phone on the bedside table. I curl up in bed, crying myself to sleep before I pack for my move to San Francisco,again.

CHAPTER31

MAX

Seeingher texts come through feels like a dagger to the heart every time I read them. Reading the last one makes me do something drastic though. She is only saying she doesn’t want to go because of me, she has to be. She told me before how much she loved her job and how that would be the one thing to keep her in San Francisco to begin with. I know she’d stay because of me, which is why I’m telling her to go. I know I have to be the one to sever ties, I can’t be the one to stand in the way of her dreams.

Even if I wanted to punch that guy in the face for offering her a job 2,000 miles away from me. I saw the hesitation in her eyes, and that was enough for me. I’ve been avoiding any place she’d look for me, and told Tucker I’d have him by the balls if he tells her where I went. I am doing this for her own good. She may not be able to see that right now, but she will one day. I hope.

I decided to take Riley and camp for a while. I just couldn’t be there when she left. I couldn’t see her, because I would have ended up telling her to stay, which would only be holding her back. I’ve seen what she’s created. I know this Hugh guy is the person she needs to work with to get her art on display someday. It’s the only logical thing to do. Even if it hurts like hell. I made the trip back to deliver her sweatshirt to her, knowing everything else at my house of hers was just spares. Maybe she’d still think of me while she was away, maybe she’d toss it out the window, but I still wanted her to have it. Regardless of her decision, it was hers to do with what she wanted.

She’s been gone for two weeks now and I’ve been in a shit mood ever since Lauren’s fucking birthday party. Tucker texted me the day she left letting me know I could go home without worrying about running into her, so I packed up our campsite and went home. When I got there, I put all of Shane’s things in a box in the closet. I can’t bring myself to actually throw any of it out. I’d hopped in the shower to wash off the days of camping, and when I got out, I fell straight into bed. When my head hit the pillow, the smell of lavender flooded my senses.

Not being able to pull her warm body into me and breathe her scent in deeper, not being able to stroke her golden locks, bury myself in her and kiss her perfect lips before falling asleep, was agonizing. It felt like someone was pulling all of the air from my lungs, with no plan to return it.

* * *

Tucker

Range day?

Me

Not up for it.

Tucker

You gotta leave the house sometime man.

Tucker

Be ready in 20 minutes. I’m picking your ass up.

Persistent motherfucker. I get off the couch to get ready, grabbing my range bag from the closet. I get a strudel from the freezer since apparently I’m on a time clock today, and as soon as I finish it, Tucker is honking outside. I call Riley and we head out the door. Tucker yammers on about the project he’s currently working on, but all I can focus on is how this damn Toaster Strudel isn’t followed by the taste of Shane today.

She convinced me to try it the day we got back from the store, buying enough to last through the damn apocalypse. I told her that strudel had never been a favorite of mine but she insisted I try it anyway.

“Your taste buds may have developed into something worthwhile since the last time you tried them. Plus have you ever had the apple flavor? They’re superior to all the other flavors.” She’d argued, waving the frozen pastry in my face. I grabbed her wrist to move it from between us to make a deal.

“I will try your damn strudel, on one condition,” I told her.

“Name it.” She narrowed her gaze like she was ready for battle.

“I get to cleanse my palette with the taste of you after.” I yanked her towards me by her wrist, causing her to gasp.

“Even if you like it?”

“Even if I like it,”

“Okay, deal.” She smiled, her cheeks turning pink before she rushed to the toaster. She started humming and swaying her hips to whatever song was playing in that beautiful mind of hers, and I was completely captivated by everything she did. She took the pastry out of the toaster as I closed the space between us. When she turned around, her hand bumped into my chest. Her eyes shot up to mine and she smiled so brightly.

“Open.” She said, holding the icing-glazed strudel to my mouth. I raised a brown and huffed, doing as I was told. I took a large bite, making her laugh when half the pastry was gone after. When I’d finished, I licked the icing off of my lips, catching her gaze following the path of my tongue.

“Well? What do you think?” she asked impatiently.

“Disgusting. Absolutely terrible.” I said evenly. She studied me for a minute to see if I was telling the truth. I wasn’t, surprisingly it was pretty damn good.

“You’re lying! You liked it.” She playfully yelled, bringing a smile to my face.

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