Page 79 of Stealing Sunshine

“What the fuck happened?”

And why do I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck?

She smooths my hair out of my face, a lone finger tracing the edge of my hairline. “I’m pretty sure you have the flu. Are you sure you were feeling okay when we left the house?”

“I was fine. I thought I felt sick when we got here, but I’m used to feeling some sort of discomfort whenever I’m here.”

She sighs, scraping her nails against my scalp. I swallow a moan before it can slip out and squeeze my eyes shut tighter.

“Does your head hurt?” she murmurs.

“Like a bitch.”

“How’s your stomach?”

“Sore.”

It feels like someone’s used the inside of it for punching practice.

“I’m going to get some supplies, and then I’ll be right back, okay? If you need me, please call. Scream if you need to. This place is a serious castle, and I might get lost.”

“I want to go back home. Don’t get shit from my parents.”

Forcing my eyelids open, I wince at the pain the small streamof sunlight brings to my head and curse. My stomach folds in on itself as I lean forward and curl my fingers in the thick duvet thrown over me.

“Don’t. We’re not going anywhere until you’re not one step from falling asleep on me again.”

She leans over and pushes me back down with a hand on my shoulder. I know I won’t be able to keep my eyes open for much longer, but I refuse to shut them again without looking at her.

Concern is etched on every inch of her face and lies heavy in her eyes, deepening the blue. The downturn of her lips is so subtle that I have to stare to realize she’s actually frowning. Emotion clogs my throat, guilt slapping me across the face.

“I’m fine, Sunshine. A few painkillers and I’ll be good to go.”

It’s such a fucking lie. My eyes slide shut, and I clench my teeth as much as I can, given how tired I am.

“No, you are not fine, Bryce. But I will find you some painkillers. I’ll be right back.”

Somehow, I’m able to lift my arm enough to reach for her before I fall asleep and she disappears. Her fingers are so cold when I cover them and bring them to my chest.

“Don’t go yet.”

“Let me help you,” she whispers, the heat from her other hand so close to my cheek but not touching, just hovering.

“You’re better than medicine.”

“Sleep, Bryce. I’ll be here.”

Her cool fingers trace the corner of my mouth, and then—then I swear I feel her lips replace them. Just the ghost of a touch, but it’s enough to make my cheeks burn as I grin in my sleep.

It’s the best kiss I’ve ever had. Even if I am dreaming.

24

DAISY

Bryce’s smilelingers after her breathing evens out in sleep. I’m held captive by the sight of it, unable to look away as I continue running my fingers through her damp hair, trying to untangle it without a brush.

Her smile is as rare as the peace in her expression and lack of thoughts that keep her brows in a perpetual state of tugged inward.

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