Page 9 of Sunshine
He returns his cap to his head, stands, and winks. “Whatever you say.”
I make a point of not watching him leave as I wave at Mona for her to take over at the bar, then pass through the kitchen to collect plates of wings, fries, and salads.
“No,” Daisy says as I set the tray with our dinner and two tall glasses of root beer on the table.
“What?” I scan the tray. The food’s not fancy, but I know for a fact these dishes are her favorite. “Do you want sangria? I can—”
“No.” She reaches out a hand to stop me from walking away. “I mean, yes. I don’t know why I have to go without the hard stuff just because you can’t drink on duty. Butno, don’t go thinking sexy thoughts about Wade.”
“I’m not!” I slide into the worn, brown-leather bench seat of the booth, then add with an ashamed mumble, “But he’s persistent.”
“Persistent does not equal worthy,” Daisy replies, setting out our plates and drinks. “Persistent does not equal decent. Persistent does not equal mutual respect, stimulating conversation, or even multiple orgasms. In fact,Wadepluspersistentequals one giant, circus tent of a red flag.”
My shrug has no fight in it. “You’re right. I know.”
“You’re starting to hallucinate.” Daisy picks up a chicken wing and tears off a sliver of meat. “It’s the dick-tox. It’s driving you to distraction.”
“I know there are good reasons for us swearing off men for a year, but we’re only halfway through, and I’ve already lost all perspective.” I stretch out a hand and lower my voice, amping up the melodrama so Daisy knows I’m joking—just. “I’mthis closeto dating Wade Mitchell.Wade Mitchell.”
Daisy clasps my hand in hers, responding to my theatrics with a performance of her own. “You can do this, sweetie. What you need is toys. Good ones. Great ones. High-powered, ruin-you-for-all-men, pass-out-when-you-cometoys. You do not need to ride your high-school ex.”
I snort and take back my hand, picking up a fork and starting my salad. “Do you have any idea how paper-thin the walls are at Mona’s place? I do—unfortunately—and whether it’s toys or the real deal, I don’t have enough privacy to have a good time.”
Daisy cocks her head as she licks hot sauce from her fingers. “Are you sure that’s all this is with Wade? Sex? Because if it is—”
“I’m not breaking my promise,” I tell her firmly, knowing it’s the right thing to say when her shoulders drop with relief.
Our no-men-for-a-year agreement is one of the reasons we returned to Aster Springs last summer. We spent so many years apart, traveling the States and the world, searching for some sortof happiness, only for each of us to hit major heartaches at the same time. Daisy needed a break from love, and I needed a break from high-risk emotional situations, so we came home.
I needed my best friend, and my best friend needed me.
But also…it’snotjust about sex for me. It’s about being alone, and I know what Daisy will say if I admit that out loud. She’ll try to tell me I’m too good for Wade. That I can do better. That I deserve more. But isn’t he here every week to spend an hour with me? Hasn’t he been patient and funny? If it was only about sex, wouldn’t he have given up by now?
In the past ten years, I’ve never done better than Wade. Who’s to say I ever will?
Daisy suddenly sits up straight and sends me a wide-eyedincomingexpression, so I’m already on guard when a familiar blonde woman breezes past our booth in a cloud of perfume, then breezes back again like she’s only noticing us now.
“Oh! Hey, you two!” She crosses her arms and smiles brightly. “Fancy seeing you here.”
It’s Hannah Casey, followed by Rachel McHugh and Morgan Sullivan. Three women who used to be our best friends in high school—until they weren’t.
“Hey, Hannah,” I reply. “My mom owns the place and I work here every weekend, so it’s not that strange to run into each other, is it?”
Hannah blinks her brown eyes a few times, and one lid twitches with irritation before she laughs like I’m the funniest person she’s ever met. “Oh, of course! Not strange at all.”
Daisy picks up her soda and takes a sip. “Really going to need something harder than this,” she mutters around the straw.
“You both still here?” Rachel asks.
Daisy glances at our table. “You mean still here in this booth?”
“I mean here in Aster Springs,” Rachel explains. “We were sure you two wouldn’t last the summer, and now it’s January.”
I stick a fry in my mouth. “Didn’t know you were keeping tabs.”
“Oh, we’re not.” Hannah shoots her friend a dirty look. “We’re just making conversation. Do you girls want to get a drink next weekend? You know. Catch up on old times.”
Daisy and I swap a loaded look that almost undoes me, and I clear my throat as Daisy takes another swallow of her drink.
