Page 82 of Stealing Sunshine

“You like hearing me tell you to shut up?”

“I like your backbone, Daisy.”

I flush beneath the intensity of her lingering stare and opt out of replying to that.

Tapping her bottom lip, I hold out the first pill and then push it inside her mouth. The water is next, and I don’t let her stop drinking until she gently nudges the bottle away. By the time she’s taken all the medication, she’s collapsing back on the mattress with a groan.

“Get some more sleep, Bryce,” I say softly, pushing her hair back, unable to help not touching it again.

She struggles to keep her eyes open, fighting sleep. “Don’t go this time.”

“I won’t. I’ll be right here.”

“Lay down with me.”

Before I can argue against that, she spits a curse and rolls over, panting at the effort it took. I let my laugh fill the quiet room and adjust the blankets that she’s pulled beneath her body.

“I’ll get sick lying on your pillow.”

“If you do, I’ll take care of you.”

I pull my lip between my teeth and bite down on it. Bryce doesn’t look away from me, even as she lifts a weak hand and pats the empty spot beside her.

“Please,” she mumbles.

My resolve crumbles with that single word.

Knowing exactly well how bad of an idea this is, I climb in beside her and decide that I’ll deal with the consequences of this once everything goes back to normal.

25

BRYCE

Someone filledmy eyes and mouth with sand.

Or buried me alive in it, more like.

I’m unsure how I wound up in the bathroom again or how I didn’t notice myself puking all over my shirt. From the smell of myself, it’s no wonder Daisy’s asking if I want to have a bath.

“I’ll shower,” I manage to say, surprised I can get my crusted lips to form words.

“You can barely stay awake sitting on the floor. I won’t stay in here if you don’t want me to, but at least let me help you run a bath and actually sit in it.”

Taking these clothes off is all I want. I smell putrid, and the longer she sees me like this, the easier it’s going to be to scare her off. Somehow, I’ve managed not to do it already, and if this is what takes me down, I’ll never recover from it.

“I’ll be naked,” I blurt out.

Humour lines her eyes as she reaches around me to flush the toilet and releases her hold on my hair. I want to ask her to wrap it in her hands again. Her touch soothes me. Doesn’t matter where.

“I can cover my eyes,” she offers.

Another wave of nausea hits, and I grip my stomach in anattempt to fight it. There’s nothing in my stomach but water, but even that hasn’t been lasting long before it’s flying back up.

Daisy brushes a hand over my shoulder, and then the tub behind me begins to fill. The sound of the water running makes my head pound, the migraine of all migraines lingering.

“You don’t have to do this, Daisy.”

“Do what?”

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