Page 86 of Sunkissed Colorado
“What, baby?”
She gave me a patented grouchy Zandra look. “You’ve called me Sunflower a few times now. Why? What is that, something you call women when you’re getting frisky?”
“Aw, you jealous? Thinking about me with other girls?”
I could see the shape of the “no” on her lips. But her scowl said everything she was really thinking.
So fucking cute.
After the hottest sex of my life this morning, both of our stomachs had been growling. About an hour ago, I’d made myself just presentable enough to venture out to the kitchen. Darius, Connor, and Niko had all been up, eating breakfast on the back patio. They’d whistled and smirked at me through the screen door as I made a plate of bacon and eggs for us to share. Darius had helpfully left extras on the stovetop.
No, they didn’t hear us at all, I’d told Zandra when I got back.
They’d totally heard us.
Now, we were cuddled up beneath a pile of blankets with our bellies full. Zandra had been lying on top of me, naked of course,while I drew pictures on her back with my fingertips. A bluesy playlist from my phone added to the atmosphere.
I hummed, pretending to think about her question. “Sunflower. Let me see… No, don’t think I’ve ever called anyone else that before. Just you.”
She crawled up my body so she could cross her arms on my chest. “Are you going to tell me what it means? Or do I have to guess?”
“I do love your guessing games.”
“Come on, Callum.”
I’d gotten enough of her adorably grumpy reactions to satisfy me for the moment. “It’s because sunflowers remind me of you. The wild, small ones that grow everywhere around here. They’re beautiful, but they’re tough. Nobody can keep them down.”
For several long seconds, she stared at me. Then she dropped her head, hiding it against her arms on my chest.
“You don’t like it?” I asked softly.
“I do. Just don’t know if I deserve it.”
“Sure you do.” Zandra had to know how amazing she was. Even with her setbacks in Chicago, she’d charged back into Silver Ridge with that same old fire. She didn’t put up with bullshit. Including mine, and I liked her all the more for it.
I felt her fingers on my arm, tracing the patterns of my tattoos. “I didn’t feel resilient after Jessa died. It was so hard, Callum. Every day, going to that school and feeling so alone.”
My heart clenched painfully at the reminder that she’d been struggling back then, and I hadn’t done anything to stop it.
“But there was more,” she went on. “Things happened that I haven’t told you.”
“I’m listening.” I rubbed her back.
“There was…” She swallowed. “Someone was harassing me.”
My hand went still. “What do you mean?”
“I told you about the rumors going around that it was my fault Jessa died. That we were arguing and I pushed her.”
“You thought I had something to do with spreading that around.” Because of Pickering.
She nodded. “Jessa’s vigil was just a few days after she died. But then weeks later, I started getting copies of the leaflet. Stuck in my locker, in my backpack when I wasn’t looking. Under my car’s windshield wiper. I didn’t get it. Why someone would do that. Like, were they trying to make me feel bad? Make some other point? But then the person started writing words in red marker on the leaflets. ‘Liar.’ ‘Murderer.’”
“Shit,” I murmured. “That’s horrible.”
“I didn’t thinkyoudid it. Not exactly. I thought…I guess I figured people believed the rumors, and somebody decided to punish me for what they thought I did to Jessa. Then there was the time I went out to my car after school and found the driver’s side window broken.”
I gently tipped her to the side so she was lying on the mattress, and I could see her face. “Z, why didn’t you tell me about that? After the broken window at Hearthstone a couple weeks ago?”
