I turn around and press my back to the door, looking up at the stairs leading to my apartment. With a deep inhale, my nose is filled with a faint citrus and salt scent.
He didn’t take his jacket back.
TYLER
Such a sad girl for someone named Sunny, and I’m determined to figure out why that is.
Walking back to the hotel to get my truck, her name plays in my mind over and over because I finally have the answer to my greatest question.
Sunny.
Despite her demeanor being the opposite of her name, my obsession has only rooted deeper. But one thing she does have isfire. An inferno waiting for her moment. Ready to incinerate you the minute you invade her space. Yet, I can’t help but want to sit in her flames, accepting all the raging light and fire she gives me, ready to burn just for her.
God it was so hard to get her to crack a smile, no matter how many I gave her. Even then, she didn’t.Not once.
I want to take the brokenness out of her eyes, make her whole because of me. Of course,of courseI understand what it feels like to be partial. I’ve been feeling like that my whole fucking life. Nothing has ever made me feel complete. Almost, but never quite actually there.
Until her.
A broken man finally finds something that awakens the parts he thought were long dead. A glimpse into what it's like to be whole. A fire that somehow bleeds through what he thought was impenetrable darkness. Yeah, he’s going to become obsessed with it. One glimpse at her told me everything I needed to know; that there is something connecting us, even if she doesn’t know it yet.
So that’s when I pull my phone out and text my sister to invite Sunny to family dinner. I want to know more about her and why her light has been dimmed so much.
That way I can put it in its fucking grave.
CHAPTER EIGHT
SUNNY
Clutchinga bottle of wine in one hand, I bring my other shaky one to knock on Sam’s door.
After three shifts in a row, I’m the least presentable with bags under my eyes and frizzy curls spilling out of my bun. However, Sam was insistent I come, and from what she’s told me, it’s an honor to be included in the family circle dinners. Essentially, I wasn’t in a position to say no. If I’m being honest, a part of me didn’t want to say no anyways.
“You should know by now Sunny that you don’t even need to knock!” Sam yells through the door. I’m not greeted by Sam when the door opens. Instead, I’m greeted by a girl with mousy brown hair and big gray eyes.
I refrain from allowing my jaw to drop on the floor at the sight of her. It doesn’t take me longer than a second to realize she’s the same girl I cared for in the emergency department. That had been weeks ago. I swallow hard, trying to understand a reality where I’ve collided with three people all connected on such a visceral level in such a big city.
“So, you’re Sunny?” She smirks. I can’t decide if it’s a goodor bad thing being known already. “I’m Macey.” She holds a hand out, nails painted in blue polish, giving me a flashback to her bloodied hand weeks prior holding mine.
“Yes.” I take her hand. I have so many questions for her. She seemssookay.
“Sam has a major crush on you, which I’m sure you already knew, but I could see why.” Macey moves from the doorway, allowing me inside. She locks the door as soon as she shuts it. “Keep those ratty boys out.”
“Fair enough.” I do the same thing every night with my own door.
“There’s my darling Sunny Sunshine!” Sam practically leaps in my arms.
“Hello to you too, Sam,” I chuckle in my friend’s neck.
Sam’s apartment isn’t unfamiliar to me at this point. The loft is covered in a series of pink and purple furniture pieces, and despite the fact she has people coming over, the place is still covered in her own chaotic mess.
Looking at the long table to fit the whole family, I notice it’s already set and ready for everyone. There is a place for me, too.
They invited me to family dinners.
Sam goes back to cooking while Macey opens and pours the wine that I brought. I sit on a barstool next to her, grateful I madesomecontribution to the dinner. I have so much to ask her, and I wonder if she’s picked up on who I am — though she really shows no semblance of recognizing me.
“So, I’ve heard the story over and over about how you and Sam met,” Macey hands me a glass filled with red wine. “The paint shop. Sam trying to hit on you. Realizing dick is your choice. Does it all seem to add up?” She smiles as she takes a sip.
