Page 97 of Sunshine with You
“Ugh, yes…” I whine, relenting to the clear case she’s building. She knocks my shoulder with hers a couple of times until I look at her.
“So tell him.”
“But I’m scared!” The vulnerable burn in my chest makes me drop my head in my hands with a groan.Is this ever going to get easier?
Kayla chuckles, giving me a small smile. “Tell him that, too, girl. Communicate. You saw what happened to me. What’s the holdup?”
Speak the fear.“I want to make sure I’m giving him my best before I ask for another chance, and I don’t feel like I’m there yet. I’m still a mess, clearly.” I point to the tears dripping down my face.
“That doesn’t have to happen in a vacuum, Ash. I understand wanting to give it your all; there’s nothing wrong with that. But holding yourself back from happiness in hopes that youmightreach some arbitrary goal isn’t making anything better for you orhim. You can work on yourself and still be loved. Youdeserveto be loved, just as you are.”
Debatable.
She’s making a hell of a lot of sense, but knowing it andfeelingit are worlds apart. Still, as much as I want to stay in my cozy corner of caution, it hasn’t served me well. Air puffs from my lips as I trample that limiting belief with an affirmation from my coping toolbox.
Affirmation: I am lovable.
“Look, I’m going to tell you the same thing you told me when I was too scared to get with Chase. You’re forgetting the third thing.”
“The what? What’s the third thing?” I reach for a napkin to wipe the mascara from my cheeks.
“It could all work out, and you two could end up happy. Together. You have to let the fears go, Ash. They’ll eat you up inside.” She squeezes my arm and walks back into the rental behind us, leaving me alone to absorb all of her wisdom.
Don’t let your worry keep you from your joy.It echoes in all four chambers of my heart, a little beacon of hope in this hurricane I’m clawing my way out of.
Affirmation:I am capable.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
HUNTER
“Hey,” Chase claps me on the shoulder. “Don’t look so sad. One more week, and I’ll give the spotlight back to you.” The bright lights in the alteration room at Tom’s Tuxedo Parlor augment my sullen reflection in the wall of mirrors.
“Funny,” I murmur, knocking him in the ribs with my elbow. He chuckles as he steps to the side, adjusting his tie. Kayla had this dumbass idea for them to spend the week before the wedding apart from each other. Something about distance and the heart growing fonder. So Chase is here in LA for the week, while she’s in Fort Bender.With Ashlie.Fuck distance.It can kiss my ass.
I turn to the side and straighten my jacket, checking the fit before reaching around my neck to secure my tie. The beige silk shines as it glides through my fingers, and all my attention locks in on forming a Windsor knot. When I look back in the mirror, Chase is watching me, all the humor in his face replaced by worry. “You talk to Ash?”
“Naw.” I finish up with the tie and head for the leather lounge chairs. As soon as I hit the seat, my head falls into my hands, and I breathe out a strained sigh. The closer we get to the wedding, the more stressed I am.What if she’s changed her mind?
Chase takes the seat across from me. “Man, if I knew you were the other guy, I wouldn’t have encouraged Trevor so much. What happened?”
“She asked for space.” I shrug, straightening in the chair. Tom’s is the last place I want to get into this.
“Come on, Hunt. It’sme. You think I don’t know when you’re hiding shit? Stop shutting down and walk me back. What happened?”
I rub my fingers across my forehead, pressing hard like it’ll help me condense five years’ worth of pining into a minute long synopsis. Chase kicks my Oxford, somehow tapping the correct cobblestone to unlock the secret passageway. Everything spills out. All the missing details from the night five years ago, Halloween, the lodge, and New Year’s. I ignore his bulging eyes when I describe the bet. And once I tell him about the hotel in San Francisco, his hand settles over his mouth as if he’s trying to hold the words in.
Eyes stinging, I massage my temples, hoping to stop whatever this is threatening to spill down my cheeks.Frustration?Sorrow?Who the hell knows anymore? Tears falling in my apartment is one thing, but I draw the line at it happening in an overpriced tuxedo shop.
“Okay,” he says slowly. “So you had the bet”—he grimaces, clearly disagreeing with that choice—“dated, and wooed. Did you ever tell her how you feel about her?
“I tried to tell her I love her in San Francisco, but she freaked.”
“Yeah, well, you went from friends to a fun dating bet to ‘I love you’ in the span of a couple of months. You changed the dynamic too fast.”
“I know I did.” I groan. “I knew she was scared, but I pushed her anyway and fucked it all up. Now she wants nothing to do with me.” Tipping my head back, my hands cover the wetness leaking from my eyes. Apparently, the line of propriety has moved, and the tuxedo shopisan acceptable place to cry.
“Asking for space doesn’t mean she’s done with you.”
