Page 38 of Sunshine
“Don’t worry. I’ll go.” I flex a fist at my side. “As soon as you agree to leave Poppy alone. No more hanging around the bar. No more phone calls. Stay out of her life. Got it?”
He snorts. “Why the fuck do you care anyway?”
I take a threatening step forward and he throws up his hands.
“Fine! Jesus Christ. I’ll leave her alone. I wasted the last six months trying to get something out of her. I won’t make that mistake again.”
I can hear my molars grinding, and I remind myself that this is all I need from the guy. Breaking his jaw would serve no purpose other than it’d make me feel better, and that’s not a good enough reason to do it.
“Glad we agree.”
I step out of the doorway and onto the porch, fighting the violence in my blood, the urge to work out my frustrations on this asshole’s face. It’d feel so freaking good, but I’m a father. A business owner. A real man. I don’t hit people.
It takes willpower, but I turn away, only to be stopped by Wade’s irritating whine.
“If you think this kind of thing will make her want to fuck you—acting all chivalrous and shit—you should think again. She’s frigid now, and even if she wasn’t, take it from me—she’s a disappointing lay.”
I spin around, take two steps, and throw a fucking fantastic right hook. My knuckles scream at the impact, satisfaction pounds in my ears, and Wade stumbles back, tripping over a pair of boots in the hallway and bracing himself against the far wall.
“Stay—the fuck—away,” I spit. “Got it?”
Wade pinches his nose to stop a trickle of blood and glares at me around his hand, but his silence is enough agreement for me. I launch off the porch, leaping over the steps, and jog back to the truck, shaking my hand like I can shake away the pain. I’m a fucking idiot. It’ll be days before I can hold a knife again.
When I slide behind the wheel, Poppy’s staring at me like she doesn’t know me, a small curve of disbelief on her mouth.
“I can’t believe you hit him,” she whispers.
“You saw that?” I turn on the engine, casting a sidelong look at Poppy as she rolls her lips to hide her smile.
“Yeah. And you’re nuts.”
“He deserved it.”
She shrugs like she might agree and glances toward the house, where the front door is closed again. There’s definitely a pleased tilt to her mouth now.
“You’re still nuts,” she murmurs.
Her almost-smile makes the pain in my hand and a week off kitchen work worth it.
“What happened to your phone?”
“Nothing. I just…” She exhales and rolls her eyes. “I forgot to pay my bill.”
“But you’re going to pay it now, right?”
Another eye roll that says so much. “Yes. As soon as I get home. Quit being so bossy.”
“Not when you need to be bossed around.” I hand her my phone. “Text Daisy to let her know you’re okay while I take you home.”
“Fine.”
The apartment Poppy shares with her mother is only a short drive from here, and we travel in silence. The adrenaline from my confrontation with Wade ebbs away as the consequences of kissing Poppy grow larger in my mind. Is she thinking about it too? How do we move forward with something like that hanging between us? Tonight’s behavior aside, I’m used to being the mature one. That’s my job. It’s always been my job. It’s up to me to make this right.
Maybe Poppy knows that too because when I pull my truck to the side of the road, she doesn’t take off her seatbelt. Instead, she moves like she wants to touch my hand, then changes her mind.
“Does it hurt?” she asks.
I straighten and curl my fingers, noting there’s no swelling yet and barely wincing at the pain. “It’s not too bad. I’ll put some ice on it when I get home. It’ll be okay.”
