Page 67 of Stealing Sunshine

“Bryce?”

There’s a clang, and then I’m coming face to face with my girlfriend for the first time in two days. Myfakegirlfriend.

It takes me a minute to blink, and by the time I do, my eyes are so dry they burn. Overalls have never done it for me before. Not even close. But with the way my nipples tighten beneath the work blouse I still haven’t changed out of and I lose my breath in a sharp puff, it’s safe to say she’s altered my view of them.

She has no defined shape in them with how baggy the thighs and waist are, but somehow, she’s never looked more beautiful. The messy, clipped-back hair and rosy cheeks add something to her appearance that makes it nearly impossible to breathe properly.

“Sunshine,” I mutter, my voice sounding as strained as my chest feels.

There’s a shine to her eyes today that makes the blue standout, almost like it’s taken on a completely different shade. One more vibrant. Alive.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, standing from behind her desk.

“You said you were going to find something for lunch.”

Her lips part before she tugs the bottom one into her mouth and then lets it go. “I was.”

“Do you have food in your desk?”

“No. I was going to . . .” She trails off, focusing on the containers in my slick palms. “Is that food?”

I flush with heat. The kind that smothers. “It’s just something small.”

“That doesn’t matter. Here, pull up a chair and eat with me. I have about fifteen minutes before the bell rings.”

She wheels herself to the far end of her desk, leaving me a small space beside her. I avoid eye contact while I grab an extra chair from one of the sets of desks and pull it beside her.

I’m stiff as I drop into the chair and place the containers in front of us. Thankfully, Daisy doesn’t hesitate to lean close and snap the lids off the containers, giving me a hit of her sweet, floral perfume. She stares at the food with a soothingly warm expression and takes a sandwich for herself.

I should look away when she raises it to her mouth and sinks her teeth into the white bread, but watching her eat food that I made for her is one of the sexiest situations I’ve ever found myself in.

Perfectly manicured nails dig into the bread, keeping it in place as a moan slips out of her, and I jerk in my chair, a pulse thumping between my legs. My gaze tightens, refusing to have it drift so much as a millimetre.

Her tongue slips out and drags across her lips when she pulls the bread away, and then her jaw is working. The strain of her throat as it pulls and releases with a swallow threatens to have me collapsing onto the floor at her feet.

Begging for a chance to taste and savour her the way she’s doing to her food.

For just one fucking opportunity to learn if I was right all along in knowing that she’ll taste like my biggest temptation and desire. My undoing or revival.

“Eat, Frosty. You’ve got to be hungry. Did you come straight from work?”

My throat hurts from how dry it is when I speak. “No. I went home first and made lunch.”

“Oh. Right. That makes sense.”

“But I am hungry,” I add quickly.

My fingers tremble when I grab the second sandwich. Clenching them to hide it, I take a large bite of the sandwich and struggle to chew it with the lack of moisture inside my mouth.

“You know, I was hoping you’d come today,” she reveals casually.

My first swallow is a struggle with the dry bread. “Why? Are you okay?”

“I am. It’s just been a bit overwhelming. I didn’t student teach with kids this young, even though I knew I wanted to teach them. It’s kind of luck of the draw with placements, so coming here and being around so much energy and excitement was a lot to take in. It still is. But it’s been a very good day so far. Despite forgetting my lunch, of course.”

The giggle at the end of her sentence fills the classroom as fully as it does my mind, having become one of my favourite sounds in existence.

“Plus, it’s nice to see you. Especially considering all you did for me to get this place finished for today.”

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