Chapter Thirty-Four
TYLER
It’s two in the morning, and Sunny has a taco in her hand while she dances down the street in front of me. A total contrast to the person she was just an hour ago. She just needed a little space, some food, and tough love.
She’s free right now. And fuck, free looks so good on her. The glimpse of who she was before he stole it from her only fuels that primitive need in me.
I bite back a laugh, because once again, she’s forgotten all about her training. For the second time. Then again, she’s a little drunk, and it’s me, not a stranger. I’ll let this one pass. Maybe she didn’t want to escape that badly.
Walking with my hands in my pockets and a stupid grin across my face, I watch the light of my life dance along the empty street as she takes in the city before her. She’s twirling and laughing while taking bites of her taco in between. I can’t help but watch her.
Her curls bounce as she skips and twirls. Her laugh is the only sound in the hushed, sleeping city. If this can be the rest of my life, I’ll be the luckiest man alive.
She stops and turns to me, a crooked little smile spreads across her face while her eyes trail me up and down. Little by little I’m getting that smile I ache for. A shiver goes over my body, and it isn’t from the cold. It’s from her, always her.
She giggles, and I have a feeling she knows what I’m thinking about.
“I smell rain.” She turns around again and winks. “Looks like I’m getting wet tonight after all.”
I fight a groan at just the thought.
“Why did you come?” The grin she had dissipates with each word. She stares up at me, and for someone so much smaller than me, she’s so intimidating.
“You called,” I say simply.
“Technically, I didn’t call you, Sam did. That bitch,” she scowls playfully.
I take a step into her, but she doesn’t move. She stands her ground as she keeps her eyes on me. The lightning from the storm rolling in only gives me brief moments of her face, cracked through light and darkness.
“Sunny, it doesn’t matter who calls, if it involves you, I’m there.” I hook a curl behind her ear.
The Sunny from an hour ago emerges—the one who wants to run away from me, the one who is scared to let people in, the one who is scared to let herself live a little after what happened to her. I’m not about to fucking let her go.
My fingers gently tip her chin up, making her look at me while I lean in closer to whisper my lips on hers. I want to kiss her again so badly it hurts.
I can feel her breath hitch as our lips caress against one another. Her eyes close as she awaits the contact while her lips part ever so slightly, ready to let me in.
She's letting me in.
Lightning cracks as thunder booms in the sky so profoundly, I practically feel it rattle my bones. We both jolt, eyes flying open and an unforgiving space I don’t appreciate is created between us.
“We better go, unless you want to see me wet.” She winks, turning around and parading away.
Shaking my head slowly, I place my hands back in my pockets and follow whatever that feeling inside my chest pulling me to her is. If being wet is what she wants, then I’ll make that fucking happen.
The rain catches us before we make it to my place.
Icy cold bullets come down, piercing our skin with a frosty bite, unforgiving and relentless as it shoots down from the sky.
But Sunny doesn’t care. She welcomes it as she runs down the street with her arms open wide above her head, tilting her head back, letting each drop hit her face and her body.
A glimpse of the person she was before someone stole it all.
Her clothes are skin tight against her, leaving little to the imagination as her nipples peek through the thin material of her shirt. Her once wild hair is flattened by the rain, plastering across the sides of her face.
I run a hand through my own that sticks to my forehead, slicking it back so I can get a good look at the way the rain droplets glide along her body.
We finally make it to the entrance of my home, and when I glance back at her, I can see her eyes roaming every part of my body on display by my wet clothes.
I open the door and smile, because we both know what happens when we’re left alone. The grin doesn’t leave my lips as I watch her walk through the doorway.
SUNNY
“Here.” Tyler hands me a set of matching sweats and a hoodie. “You can use the guest bathroom down the hall.”
I’m here. In his townhome. I’m going to be naked, in his townhome. I’m well sober now. If it hadn’t been the tacos that sobered me up, it was the cold rain.
“Thank you.” I grab the clothes.
Regardless of the cold, his hands are warm. As I grab the clothes, he firmly grabs my wrist. Looking up, I see his breathing is heavy as he stares at my hand. His fingers weave through mine as he watches them lace together.
“Yes?” I ask after a too long moment of silence.
His eyes flick up to mine, bringing him back to this moment and out of his head. It’s late, or early. Whatever you would call this middle of the night madness. We’ve been up for hours, and he isn’t thinking clearly.
He drops my hand. “Make yourself at home. There should be a variety of shampoos, conditioners and soaps to your liking. The guest room is all yours. Stay as long as you need to sober up,” he says, like I haven’t spent the night here before.
Like we didn’t sit on his couches, laughing and talking for hours at a time about nothing at all.
“Thank you.” I turn, walking towards the bathroom.
I’m so utterly sober now, and I’m wondering if I should’ve just gotten in that damn truck and let him take me home. Because I can’t stop thinking about the idea of our rain soaked bodies pressed together.
The warm shower thaws my bones while my mind festers with the thoughts of him showering, too.
I grab the bottle of soap, realizing it’s a coconut and vanilla scent.
My brows crease as I look at the others, seeing the curl products I use there, too.
Brand new bottles lined on the shelf. I stare at them, realizing he knew exactly what I use without asking.
He sees me, and I realize Tyler is all about details.
The little things you wouldn’t think people would care about.
Down to the simplicity of what soap I use.
As I dress, I can’t help but notice how large his clothes are on me. The sweatpants are loose around the waist, making me firmly tie the drawstrings. The hoodie practically goes to my knees because he’s so damn tall. But it’s comfy, dry, and warm, and they smell just like him.
Peeking my head out of the bathroom, I see him walking out of his room with sweatpants and no shirt, his hair still wet from the shower.
The lightning gives illuminating moments in his dark home while thunder cracks. An unrelenting storm, most likely keeping me here for the night.
I watch his muscles flex as he pulls a t-shirt over his scarred back. The door squeaks and he turns around, his emerald eyes piercing me. Looking me up and down, he lets out a laugh. It’s rich, genuine, and delectable.
Walking towards him, I start laughing too, but don’t say anything because my heart is absurdly calm and that scares me.
“Are you tired?” he asks.
“Honestly, no,” I admit.
“Good, I have some booze downstairs waiting for us.”