Page 24 of Stealing Sunshine

“Care to elaborate on that?”

“No.”

She slides a sparkly nail beneath the tab on her can and cracks it open with a soft smile. “Do you want to know what kind of pop I thought you’d like?”

“Something fucking boring like Pepsi?”

Her nose wrinkles. “No. More like sour apple. A flavour only available in one of those fancy glass bottles.”

I blink at her, tonguing my cheek. “Should I be offended?”

“You tell me,” she teases before taking a sip of her drink.

“I don’t get offended by much.”

“What’s your secret?”

I pause. I’ve always known it would be easy to talk to Daisy, and I’m being proven right with each passing minute we stand here. My edges soften in her proximity, and fuck, that’s dangerous. That’s why I sharpen them again before she has a chance to do any damage with her toothache-inducing sweetness.

“It’s not giving a shit, Daisy. You should try it sometime.”

She doesn’t so much as flinch at my harsh tone. “Isn’t that boring? Maybe it’s easier not to be bothered by things, but I like caring.”

“Your loss, then.” I finish my drink and drop the can in the blue bin beside the fridge. “I don’t have many rules, but I like to keep to myself. Sometimes I have friends over, and they can be loud, as I’m sure you know. There’s only one bathroom, so keep showers quick in the morning. I work weekdays from eight ’til four thirty and am off weekends. There aren’t a lot of groceries in the fridge?—”

“I can buy my own groceries. And just give me a list with my share of the rent and utilities and when you want them paid by. I’m not a freeloader, Bryce. Cleaning up after myself and beingrespectful of others is something that comes naturally to me,” she says, clutching her can to her chest.

“Alright. Then, we’re good.”

“We’re good,” she agrees.

Swiping my tongue over my lips, I nod, glancing around the room. “The code will get you into the house whenever you want, but if you want a key, I can get one cut. Poppy and Anna are the only two other people with keys.”

“Your parents don’t have one?”

I laugh. “No. And that’s a good thing.”

Her lips part twice, as if she’s trying to think of what to say before finally asking, “Are you okay with my moms coming over? They’re a bit . . . They just like to see me often. I can always just go over to their place if you’re not okay with that.”

“They’re welcome here. All the Mitchells are.”

“Thank you.” Her smile warms the room and knocks at my chest. “I’ll let you go get out of your work clothes. I’ve got some unpacking to do.”

“Kristen didn’t want to stay and help you?” I ask before I can leave her there without another word.

Fuck. This is exactly what I was talking about.

“I wanted a bit of time alone to speak with you first.”

“Are you always so straightforward when someone asks you something? We hardly know each other.”

She laughs softly, moving toward me at a casual pace. The first touch of her hand to my arm makes my throat sticky. It’s hot and gentle. Calm and searing.

“I don’t think that’s true. But even so, I’m excited to change that.”

With a stiff arm and the lingering heat of her touch burned into my skin, she leaves me standing in the kitchen. This time when I reach into the fridge, it’s a beer I’m gripping.

8

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