Page 92 of Promise Me Sunshine

“Oh?”

“Yeah…actually, there’s this thing I need to go to tonight. And…if you want, you can totally just stay here. I can build a fire for you. You can relax. I won’t be too long, I don’t think…”

I blink.

He blinks.

“Or…” I prompt him.

“Or…” He takes a breath. “You could come with me.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“You don’t even know what the event is!” He’s all relieved exasperation.

“Well, what is it?”

“It’s…it’s this wedding thing.”

I drop my chin and survey him over imaginary reading glasses. “Miles. Is it a wedding thing or a wedding?”

He clears his throat. “It’s a wedding.”

“Whose?”

“Cody Ketterman. An old friend. He’s, uh, Kira’s older brother. So, yeah. She and her family are gonna be there. Obviously.”

I gape at him. “Your ex-girlfriend’s brother is getting married, invited you, and you want to take…” I look down at myself. Mud-streaked, hanks of unwashed hair, overalls with a truly nonsensical number of shells in the pockets, dirt under my fingernails, a stretched-out NASA T-shirt. “A swamp thingas your plus one?”

His eyes drop to my toes and back up to my hair. The corner of his mouth quirks up into a microscopic smile. “Yeah.”

“Am I even invited? You can’t just spring an extra guest on them last minute.”

“It’s really casual. More of a barbecue than anything.There weren’t even invitations. Cody just sent a mass text about it. We wouldn’t be crashing.” His hands have found their way into his pockets.

“Are you wearing that?” I point to his creased jeans and flannel shirt.

“No. I’ve got some clothes here.”

I uncross my arms. “Well, I would be wearingthis.So.”

He laughs but then considers. “I think there’s still a box of my mom’s dresses in one of the closets. How about this. You shower and I’ll find the dresses. If you don’t find something you want to wear, you can skip the wedding. If you find something you want to wear…”

Now my hands are on my hips and I pin him with a stare. “If there’s nothing here for me to wear, we’ll hit up a secondhand store on the way. I’m sure I could find something. Which way to the shower? Trust me, this is gonna take a while. Do you have a hair dryer? What’s wrong with your face?”

He quickly wipes away the look he was giving me. Halfway stuck between nerves and gratitude, I think.

“Nothing. Over there. Second door. Grab a towel from the closet on your way in. There might be a hair dryer under the sink.”

I clap my hands and scrub them together. “How much time do we have?”

“Three hours?”

“All right,” I say, cracking my neck and rolling my shoulders. “Prepare yourself. Because you’re really about to see something special.”

—

The shower iseverything I need it to be. Scouring and peaceful. The water’s starting to go cold by the time I get out.

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