Page 35 of Honey Sunshine

Argh, I don’t know anymore, and my stomach is practically eating itself, so it isn’t any better.

I thought the shower would help me think straight and squish down whatever feelings I was catching for Harvey.

Spoiler alert: it did not.

I only became more anxious, a thousand questions filling my head at the same time. What if this is the universe bringing the right person into my life? What if I tell him how I feel and hedoesn’t feel the same, and decides to pull his investment because he feels uncomfortable working with me?

Burying my head in my hands, I let out a groan. I’m so fucking screwed. What the hell am I supposed to do now?

After throwing on a pair of athletic shorts and a T-shirt I find in Harvey’s closet, I make my way to the kitchen, but my stomach seems unable to read the mood because it’s growling so loudly. I try not to stare too hard at Harvey standing by the stove in only sweatpants. As I slide into my seat, he places a tray of pancakes with whipped cream drawn into a smiley face in front of me, and I decide to eat now, think later.

I might as well have my last meal, you know?

We eat quietly, the sounds of knife and fork clunking between us for a few minutes.

Well, before Harvey breaks the silence in a voice that’s quieter than normal.

“Do you regret what happened?”

I stop in the middle of chewing the best pancakes I’ve ever had to look at him. “Hm?”

“Sleeping with me.”

Harvey’s head is bowed down, staring intently at his plate as if purposely avoiding my eyes as the question hangs in the air.

I figure having this conversation will be better than going through this limbo, but I don’t want it associated with these heavenly pancakes. For a few seconds, I ponder on whether I should be truthful or spew out some professionally correct answer so things aren’t awkward between us—maybe he’s the one regretting it and wants a way to snip whatever this is in the bud before it sprouts to something else—but in the end, I realize I don’t want to lie to him. I don’t want to be a prisoner to “what ifs,” always wondering, and regretting not shooting my shot when I had the chance.

I swallow, ignoring my discomfort as I wash it down with the coffee he made for me.

“No, I don’t.”

His head snaps up, eyes meeting mine.

In that brief moment, a spark ignites within his gaze, shining like a lighthouse in the deep blue ocean.

Somehow, it makes my heart skip a beat, and my breath hitches.

Surely . . . that has to mean something, right?

“You don’t? Then why were you sneaking out of bed this morning?” Harvey asks with a confused look on his face, still seeming unsure.

“I thought... I didn’t want it to be awkward between us when you woke up, but I don’t regret it,” I sputter, rubbing the back of my neck as I realize how dumb a move it was. “To be honest, I’ve had a really, really,reallygood time with you these past few days. Like, the most fun I’ve had in a very long time.”

His piercing gaze locks onto me, holding me captive at my confession. I see the rigidity in his eyes melt away as something akin to relief washes over him.

A soft, tender smile spreads across his face.

“Me too.”

For a moment, it’s as if the world pauses.

Me too.

My heart does a happy little dance. He actually feels the same way. I’m not just making all this heated, passionate chemistry up in my head whenever we’re together. It would’ve been really,reallyembarrassing if I was.

“Really?”

Harvey nods, letting out a small chuckle. “Is itthatshocking?”

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