Sun Poisoned (The Sunshine Series) (19 page)

“
Oh yeah?”

“
It's all in the blood,” he says. “And you'll have a mark for a few days. It might get sore.”

I nod against him; his t-shirt feels like the softest material against my face.

“You might be a little more drowsy than usual until it fades,” Myles continues. “It would help if you ate a little healthier. You know, until it heals.”

I snort.
“I bet I taste like Pop-Tarts and Red Bull.”

Silence.

Good job, Sophie. Zero to awkward in less than two seconds.

“
Sorry,” I say into his chest. “I have no control over my motor functions right now.”

“
No,” Myles says. “It's alright. I was only thinking.” He sighs, resting his chin on top of my head as his finger traces one edge of the bandage. “I guess you're not far off,” he finally says.

I laugh a little.
“Really?”

“
It's kind of like sugar. Sweet.” His voice sounds far away. “I. . .” he pauses, sounding unsure of whether or not he should go on.

“
You can tell me.” I lightly poke him in the side.

“
I've only had blood from the blood bank. I haven't taken it from a person in a very long time.”

I nod so he'll continue.

“It always tastes like chemicals. This was. . .different.” His hand strokes my arm now; up down, up, down. “It didn't hurt, did it?”

Recalling it only makes me smile again.
“No. Not at all. It was. . .crazy. Like…” Come on, brain, work with me. “Just amazing.” Good enough.

Myles kisses my forehead again.

Time passes. Minutes, hours, I have no clue. I hover between sleep and waking, my heart beating against my chest and Myles' beating out of time in his.

“
Would you like to stay here tonight?” He whispers, breaking through the fuzzy cloud that's surrounding me.

It’s still
too early to go to bed, but I can’t imagine doing anything else right now so I nod.

“
I'm going to pick you up, okay?”

I nod again.

I don't notice that I’m in his arms and being carried until we stop moving. My body meets cool sheets; my head, a soft marshmallow pillow. Myles covers me with a blanket, and I open my eyes to see where he's taken me.

There are plain, light tan walls with dark wooden furniture sitting against them: a bookshelf, a dresser, an end table on either side of his bed. The bed itself is a king, framed in the same dark wood, the head and footboard a straight, modern edge. The comforter is plain white and fluffy. Underneath that, a dark blue sheet peeks out, which matches the color of the pillow cases. Hung on the far wall are three blown up, black and white photographs of trees. Ansell Adams, if I remember my art appreciation class correctly.

“I like your room,” I say as Myles sits next to me, one of his arms leaning over me so he's closer. His free hand smoothes some hair out of my face.

He smiles.
“Thank you.”

My eyes close again and I feel him shift like he's about to get up.

I wrap my hand around his wrist. “Where are you going?”

“
You want me to stay here tonight?”

I nod, opening my eyes a little so I can look at him. Myles motions with his head in the general direction of the bed.
“Get comfortable.”

I move over a little, lying the right side of my head on the pillow next to me and closing my eyes again.

I hear the light flick off.

“
Do you want me over or under the covers?” Myles' voice comes from behind me.

“
Under,” I say without hesitation.

The blanket lifts and then falls. I expect Myles to keep his distance, but he wraps an arm around my waist over the comforter, his head is right behind mine so my back is against his chest.

“Am I too close?” he murmurs into my hair.

“
No,” I say. “This is fine.”

Myles' hand trails slowly up to my neck, down to the Band-Aid where the mark is starting to throb a little.
“Does it hurt?” he asks.

I shake my head, but I feel a dull tingle for a second, then it's gone, taking the throbbing with it.

“Sophie,” it comes softly in the dark, just as I'm beginning to drift into sleep.

“
Hmmm?”

“
Why did you let me do it?”

I shrug.
“I just wanted to know what it was like.”

His arm wraps tighter around my middle as he buries his face against the back of my neck. Something in the embrace makes me feel uneasy.

“What's wrong?” I ask, suddenly a little more awake than I was a few minutes ago.

Myles breathes in, lets it out, but there's no verbal response.

I turn slightly, his grip loosening as I do. I place a hand on his smooth face so he'll look at me, and when he does, there is sadness behind his eyes.

“
Hey,” I say.

Myles shakes his head, closing his eyes so I can't see what I've already seen.

“What is it?”

He opens his eyes but stares at my arm instead of me.
“I've thought about this,” he says quietly. “I've thought about how I would feel if we ever did this.” He takes in another breath, as if to steady himself. “I always thought I would feel guilty. Like I shouldn't have done it.”

“
Do you?” I can’t stop my thumb from tracing the soft outer corner of his bottom lip.

He finally looks at me, his eyes a pool of blue.
“No,” his voice wavers. “I don't.”

My head leans into his chest and I wrap my arms around him now.
“Well that's okay. That's good, right?”

His cheek finds the top of my head.
“I don't know.”

I fight back sleep so I can stay here with him longer.
“Myles, I wanted to do it.”

“
I know.”

“
And. . .” I say, though I have to close my eyes so I don’t get dizzy. “I liked it.”

“
So did I,” he whispers.

“
So what's the problem?”

Myles shrugs.
“I guess I just thought you would never want this. I was prepared for that.”

“
Well, I did,” I say. “But if you don't want to do it again, that's okay.”

He smiles a little.
“No. I think I might want to.”  And I smile back, “But not for a while.”

I nod in agreement.
“See? Problem solved.” I yawn as I turn around again.

“
I don't want you to think I want you as a donor, Sophie.”

“
I don't think that.” Plus, I don't think I could deal with feeling like this all the time, no matter how awesome it may feel right now. “I just wanted. . .to be closer to you.”

He moves in, his arm around my waist again.
“Well, now we definitely are.”

We both laugh
.

“
Are you going to sleep now?” I tease.

“
No,” he says. “But you can. I'll be awake for a while.”

“
You're just going to lie here while I sleep?”

Myles kisses my cheek.
“I can stay until you fall asleep, or I can stay until you wake up. It's up to you.”

“
I probably won't sleep that long anyway. What is it, three in the afternoon?”

“
You will,” Myles says. “And you won't have any nightmares. I promise.”

With that, my mind drifts, and as promised, I find peaceful, nightmare-free rest that holds onto me as tight as he does.

Cracks in the Pavement

Chapter 8

“I’m not calling you a liar, just don’t lie to me.”—Florence and the Machine

I wake up to the smell of coffee, strong and demanding in my nostrils. I try to sit up right away, but that doesn’t happen so I open my eyes instead, the room momentarily spinning and then steadying itself. My neck is only a little stiff; I don’t feel that dizzy until I sit up, so I wait a minute or two before stretching and finally situating my feet on the floor. Slowly, I stand and start walking toward the kitchen where I assume Myles—and more importantly, the coffee—is.

He’s standing in front of the stove when I walk into the room, dressed in dark blue jeans and a t-shirt that I realize is for The Black Keys when he turns around.

“Hey,” he says, smiling. “Sit down.”

I do as I’m asked, taking a stool at the counter. Moments later
, a mug filled with black coffee is set down in front of me. Myles kisses my head.

“
What time is it?” I ask, my throat scratchy.

“
It’s seven AM.” Myles walks back to the stove. From the smell of it, he’s making bacon.

“
Holy crap.”

Myles sets down a plate in front of me with scrambled eggs and bacon on it, then does the same for himself as he
sits on the stool next to me.

“
How did you sleep?” he asks.

I can’t seem to shovel the food into my mouth fast enough, but I say,
“Awesome,” between bites.

We eat in comfortable quiet for a few seconds.
“And do you feel okay?” He takes a sip of coffee.

I pause to take a gulp of my own coffee before returning my attention back to my eggs.
“Yeah.”

After a few more minutes of just eating, Myles asks,
“Do you have any plans today?”

“
I’m rehearsing with Honus later,” I say. “But other than that, I’ve got nothing.”  

“
Want to come to Evan’s house with me?”

The question catches me so off guard that I have to stare at him for a good time before I say,
“Okay. . .”

“
I figured I could bring Malakhi,” Myles continues. “Ava hasn’t seen him in a while.”

With my breakfast finished, I smooth my hair into a ponytail.
“They live together?” I try for small talk.

He shrugs.
“About an hour from here.”  

“
So. . .we’re all going to hang out?”

“
Well,” Myles says, clearing our dishes and walking around the counter to put them in the sink. “Evan and I have some club stuff to go over, so I thought you and Ava could hang out.”

“
Right.” Call me crazy for not being excited about this idea.

He turns from the sink, wiping his hands on a dish towel before crossing them in front of him.
“She’s alright,” he says. “It won’t happen again.”

“
So I’m only hanging out with her?”

Suddenly, my palms become sweaty at the thought of hanging out with her instead of Myles today. This must be a hint of what he was talking about when he said I’d want to be closer to him.

“Don’t worry.” Myles laughs softly, relaxing. “It won’t take long. Then we can do whatever you want.” He rests his palms on top of the counter across from me, stretching his arms in front of him. “I feel it too,” he says, staring right into me.

Relief washes over me like a warm blanket. I refuse to believe it’s from my cheeks getting red.

Thankfully, he stands upright soon after, but when he says, “Promise you won’t be mad,” with a smirk on his face, I don’t exactly feel carefree.

“
Why would I be mad?”

I watch as Myles heads into the living room, reaching over the back of the couch to retrieve a black duffle bag that I recognize as my own when I see the familiar day of the dead skull hanging off of the zipper.

“What’s that?”

Myles sets the bag down in front of me.
“I didn’t think you’d want to risk being seen leaving here in the same clothes you wore yesterday.”

I simultaneously stand up and unzip the duffle bag, not really looking inside.
“So you went downstairs, into my apartment, and went through my closet?”

He sits down again, picking up the skull keychain and
studying it before grinning up at me. “Are you mad?”

I have to laugh, and the unexpected vibration that runs through my vocal cords causes me to become more aware of the Band-Aid stretched across my collarbone. But only for a second.

“No,” I say. “I honestly didn’t think that far ahead.” All I was thinking about was me, Myles, and some no less than PG-13 rated kissing. “Thanks.”

With a smile from him, I start down the hall toward the bathroom to change.

***

Myles, Malakhi, and I leave at eleven, driving for about forty minutes before I notice that the longer we drive toward wherever Ava and Evan live, the farther away we get from the city. Rows of honking cars stuck in traffic or trying to park become less frequent, apartments squished together on the sidewalk turn into houses that are spaced equally apart, then separated by trees and grass. It almost looks like the houses at home. Except these houses are mammothly huge.