Page 69 of Promise Me Sunshine

“Aren’t these what nerds wear?” Miles asks mildly as he pincers them out of Tanya’s hands.

“Hot nerds,” I correct him. “If you wear these I think it will greatly increase your chances of being in a porn-style situation where you get to bang a MILF.”

“I don’t need any help in that department, thanks.”

I burst out laughing but abruptly stop when he slides the glasses on and frowns at me. Because wow. Shit. Glasses work for him. Even these ugly ones.

I point over my shoulder at the mirror and he turns his frown on himself. “Pass.”

“What?” I screech. “You look incredible in those!”

“I have more options,” Tanya insists. And produces just that.

Miles has the opposite problem that I do. He looks good in every pair of glasses he tries on. Which is actually a problem forme.Because at some point I stop being able to look at him for any length of time. Unfortunately, he demands I study him in every pair Tanya makes him try on.

I’m looking at my nails, my shoes, glossy ads of celebs in glasses with their mouths open. He’s drumming his fingers on the counter, watching me avoiding his eyeline.

“Lenny.”

I brush at my T-shirt.

“Lenny.”

“Hm?” I spin a rack of sunglasses.

“Lenny.”

I turn and glance at him over one shoulder. “Yes?”

“Choose a pair.”

I resent the fact that this makes a little flutter happen in my stomach. Rude. “Why should I choose a pair? They’re your glasses.”

“You’re the one who made me come here. Choose a pair. Any pair. Preferably one that you can actually make eye contact with me in.”

That earns him a glare, he glowers back, and I feel the world right itself. There’s the grouch I’ve come to tolerate. “How about…” I face away from him and choose a pair of heart-shaped cheetah-print sunglasses and slide them on my face. “These!” I jump back around and face him.

He squints at me. “Perfect for reading the pickle jar.”

I saunter back over to him, confidence restored by these ridiculous sunglasses. “Oh, these.” I point to the pair on the counter that look the most comfortable. “You won’t mind wearing them and they looked good.”

“Great.” He digs in his pocket for his wallet and I make myself scarce while he pays for everything and arranges to have his glasses sent to his house when they’re all ready. I wave goodbye to Tanya and go wait for him on the sidewalk in a patch of sun that is almost warm.

I’m eyes closed, chin tipped toward the sky when he walks up next to me and kicks his toes lightly against mine.Something is being slid into my hand. I blink down at the glasses case.

I glance at him and then back at the case, snapping it open and laughing. “You bought them?” The cheetah-print heart-shaped glasses smile back at me.

“They’re perfect for you.” He shrugs and then nods to a shop across the street. “Sandwiches. Let’s go. You’re buying.”

Chapter Eighteen

Ainsley and I stand outside Miles’s apartment door, laden with groceries and about to knock, when I hear the distant strains of a vaguely familiar song. I can almost place it. I put my ear to the door but then Ainsley rings the doorbell and the music abruptly cuts off.

Miles answers the door, sliding his phone into his pocket. He’s wearing his new reading glasses, and I almost reflexively slap them off his face. He’s not supposed to be hot. That’s not part of our deal.

“We need your kitchen!” I power through the hotness.

He blinks at me and Ainsley. “Sure? Hey, Ains.”

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