Текст книги "Pucked Up "

Автор книги: Helena Hunting

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“Anyway, I was thinking maybe you’d want to come up and visit while I’m there?” At her silence, I rush on. “You could come at the end if you’re not into the whole hockey camp deal. You could even meet some of the kids if you wanted to, or not. They have cabins, so you wouldn’t have to tent it. Then we could rent a cottage for a few days if you can get the time off from work and volunteering.”

She’s quiet for another moment. “That sounds fun. I wish you would’ve asked me sooner.” Sunny turns so she’s mostly facing me.

Oh shit. I know this look. It’s a bad one. It reminds me of what I probably look like when I’m getting ready to let a honey down easy.

“If getting time off work is a problem maybe I can take care of it—”

“Getting time off work isn’t the issue, Miller.”

“So it shouldn’t be a problem, right? You can come, then. Unless you don’t want to.”

She puts a hand on my knee, squeezing softly. “So . . . you know how all those pictures showed up on the Internet.”

“You said you were over those.” I don’t get it. Last night was awesome, and this morning was awesomer. I haven’t had a chance to mess anything else up yet.

“I am, now, but when I saw them, I was upset. It seemed like you were playing me, and then there was the drunk dialing and—”

“I thought we sorted this out.”

“We did. I’m trying to explain. I’d love to come visit you, but I can’t.”

“Because of the stuff on Instagram?”

“No. Well, kind of. Lily invited me to come camping with her. She asked a long time ago, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to go. Then those pictures showed up, and I decided maybe I should. Just to get away from everything for a while. I already had a light schedule because I knew I was seeing you this weekend. I had my volunteer shifts covered.”

Sunny isn’t used to actual camping. I know this because she’s grown up doing the cottage thing. It’s big in Canada. People buy houses on lakes and drive through terrible traffic on the weekends so they can get shitfaced on a dock and hang out in the water and have campfires.

“So go camping with her for a few days and then come visit me.”

“I’ve already committed to it. I don’t want to back out.”

This doesn’t work with my plan. I should’ve asked before I came, but I wasn’t sure what this weekend was going to look like. I didn’t want to get ahead of myself, and now I’m screwed. Things start to wind back up for training soon. I have a bunch of endorsement stuff to do. I want to find a way to get her to ditch Lily and come with me instead.

“There’s no way you can cut it short?”

Her eyes drop, and she traces a circle around my kneecap. “Lily’s been supportive through this whole thing. I’m constantly bombarded with all the social media stuff.”

I tuck a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. “I’ll be better about that.”

“It’s not just you, Miller. It’s my brother, too. It’s not all bad, but sometimes I need a break from it. I try not to let it affect me, but it’s hard. Lily and I want some time away, get perspective and stuff.”

Lily isn’t my biggest fan. I’m sure she worked hard to get Sunny to agree to go. “Well, where are you going? I could meet you up there afterward. Can I drive?”

“It’s called Chapleau. It’s about eight hours by car, I think.”

“What about flying? Can I do that instead?”

“There isn’t an airport nearby. We could plan another visit for a few weeks from now, before my fall semester starts.”

No way am I leaving it that long. I need to see more of Sunny, not less. “I’ll drive out there after I’m done at the camp. We can spend a few days doing whatever. Then we can drive back together. I just need to know where it is.”

I’ll take whatever time I can get with Sunny, even if it means having to deal with her bitchy bestie. That chick isn’t going away, so I’ll have to find a way to get her to like me.

“That might be an issue, too. We won’t have an actual campsite or anything. It’s, like, out in the wilderness. I’m not sure how great my reception will be while I’m there.”

“Everywhere has reception. Even the rain forest.” Okay, so that’s not true, but this is Canada. Everyone should be able to use a cell phone, even in the damn forest.

“It’s really far north. People don’t do the cell phone thing out there. It’s all real landlines and stuff. That’s the whole point of getting back to nature, Miller. We’re going to put up tents in the middle of nowhere.”

Having no line of communication with Sunny isn’t ideal. I was without a phone for less than twenty-four hours and look how that blew up in my face. Sunny alone with Lily for a week could undo the last twenty-four hours.

“So how will I let you know when I’m on my way?”

“We’ll probably go into town for food and stuff every few days. There’s one about half an hour away, I think. Maybe we can touch base then? I’m sorry, Miller. I’ve been thinking about backing out since I woke up this morning, but Lily thinks it’ll be good for my soul, and so does Alex. I kinda have to agree with them.” She’s doing that thing with her hair again, wrapping it around her finger and brushing it over her lips.

Fucking Waters and Lily. They must be colluding. This is obviously a sabotage. Where the hell is Vi in all of this? She’s supposed to be backing me up. I need to have a chat with her. It occurs to me that Sunny’s directionally challenged. Driving out into the middle of the Canadian wilderness to go commune with nature is all well and good, as long as she has someone else to navigate. I have no clue how adept Lily is when it comes to this kind of thing.

“So it’s you and Lily going? Who’s going to drive? What car are you taking? Does she go camping a lot?”

“Lily goes camping all the time with her boyfriend. She was in Girl Guides all the way to Pathfinders.”

I have no idea what that is, but it sounds like it might be like Boy Scouts for girls in Canada. “So her boyfriend’s coming, too?”

Sunny traces a vein in my forearm to my wrist, then follows the line from the center of my palm to the space between my thumb and index finger. “There’s a group of us.”

“That’s good. You can all take turns driving. Who else is going?” Lily is the only friend of Sunny’s I’ve met so far.

“Lily’s boyfriend, Benji. You haven’t met him yet, and then there’s Kale.”

Benji sounds like it should be a dog’s name. “Kale? Is that a guy or a girl?”

“Kale’s a guy.”

“And his name is Kale? Like the vegetable?”

“Short for Kaleb. He’s nice.”

Like that makes his name less weird. It’s bad enough that Lily is going to have the week I wanted Sunny to be with me. But now she’s going on a road trip with another guy? “He’s a friend of yours?”

“We’ve all known each other since high school.”

Something about the way she won’t look at me makes the time-out buzzer go off in my head. “Did you date him or something?” I mean it to come out sounding more like a joke than an inquisition.

Her eyes stay focused on her wiggling toes. “It was a long time ago.”

Sunny’s only twenty. High school ended for her two years ago. “How long is a long time?”

“We broke up senior year. It was forever ago. He’s over it.”

There are so many things I want to say right now that I can’t. I need to call Violet. I can’t see the appeal in going on a trip with my best friend and her boyfriend and a goddamn ex. It would be insanely awkward.

“Are you over it?”

This time she looks at me. “Of course! Why would you even ask that?”

“Because you agreed to go on the trip when you were angry with me, and I can bet Lily was all about convincing you it would be a good idea. Does Alex know Corn Chip is going with you?”

“It’s Kale, not corn chip, Miller. And yes, Alex knows, and he still thinks it’s a good idea.”

“Of course he does!”

“Why are you bringing my brother into this? He has nothing to do with anything.”

“Yes, he does! You listen to what he says all the time, and he hates me. Of course he’s going to be all for you taking a road trip with your high school ex and Lily and her boyfriend.”

“Kale and I have been friends for years.”

“Who broke up with who?” I don’t have much experience with legit relationships. But if I know anything, it’s that guys can hold secret torches for chicks for years.

I saw it happen to Violet a couple of times when she was in high school. These guys would come over to hang out and get help with math, because Vi is ridiculously good at math. They were always jocks, and I was totally familiar with the game. Whenever she’d leave the room for a minute to get a glass of water, I’d tell them I’d break their faces if they so much as laid a finger on her. She’d always be oblivious to the fact that these dudes were drooling all over her rack.

“It was mutual.”

“Really? So at the exact same time you both decided you didn’t want to be with each other anymore?”

“Well, I initiated it, but he agreed it was better to stay friends.”

“You suggested you should stay friends?” I don’t care who the guy is, friends never works.

“He’s Lily’s boyfriend’s best friend. We were going to see each other all the time anyway. We had to stay friends.”

All this information isn’t making me feel better about the trip she’s going on. I’d cancel the camp if I could and tag along on the soul-cleansing adventure, but I’d be disappointing way too many people. Myself included.

“Does he have a girlfriend?”

“He’s between relationships.”

“What does that mean? Is it like being between jobs? He had one, and he’s looking for another one?”

“She broke his heart. He’s not looking to get into anything serious right now.”

I’ve seen a couple of guys on my team go through the rebound phase. It’s one of the many reasons I haven’t tried to do the serious-relationship thing. It seems to be a six-month cycle. The girls they’re dating get all kinds of antsy. They call all the time, get clingy, and start making unreasonable accusations, worrying about what the guys are doing after the games and who they’re doing it with. Sometimes the worry is justified; other times it’s paranoia.

Playing professional hockey means a lot of traveling; sometimes we’re away for up to two weeks. It’s usually during one of these long stints that the call comes: She can’t take it. It’s too much. It’s her, not him. Then the rebound bunny-pucking begins. The guy goes home with a slew of new bunnies, hoping to sex out the feelings or whatever. It never works. They mope around and get into fights on the ice. I don’t want to end up being one of those guys.

“So he’s on the rebound?”

“He wants a break. He sees her all the time since they work for the same not-for-profit organization. They were supposed to go on this trip together, but obviously that’s not happening, so I’m taking her place.”

“Lily must love this.”

“She’s looking out for me, Miller. She’s been my best friend since first grade. She’s only met you once, and she doesn’t know you apart from what she sees on social media. Most of that isn’t very positive. Maybe if you were more open about all the good things you do outside of hockey, and parties, and going to the bar, people would have something else to focus on besides all the hooker bunnies.”

I sigh and lean back in the chair. I feel a lot like the squirrel sitting on the telephone wire, waiting to be electrocuted. This conversation is on the road to becoming another fight.

“It’s complicated, Sunny. If people know where I’m going to be, it floods programs with kids who don’t need the support.” As it is, I usually have a campaign set up to fund the highest-need families. I get Amber and my dad to go through the applications first and pick the top five. I find it too hard to choose on my own. And I make sure any promo stuff happens after the fact, so the camps are full for the following summer.

I wrap my arms around Sunny’s waist and pull her against my chest. I need to work this from a different angle. Playing the possessive boyfriend isn’t a good idea. I need to be understanding. “I get that you made these plans with Lily, and you don’t want to back out of them. You’re a good friend. I don’t want you to bail on your friends for me.”

I need to focus on making the most of the time we have left together and make sure I secure more sooner rather than later.

“September is coming fast,” I continue. “You’ll be back in school, and I’ll be in training. Then the season starts, and I’ll be traveling a lot. I want more than a couple of days here and there.”

“I want that, too. I like being with you.”

I kiss her shoulder. “So it’s cool if I come out there and do the drive back with you? Maybe I can get Lily to warm up to me.”

“That’d be nice. She’s a great friend.”

“Will I get to meet this ex of yours before I leave?”

“That’s the other thing I was meaning to tell you . . .”

This doesn’t sound good.

“Lily is picking me up tomorrow morning.”

“Morning? I thought we had the day together.” Randy sent me his flight details. I don’t have to get him from the airport until five in the evening.

“Lily said eight, but she’s always late, so probably closer to nine or ten.”

“Why so early? Can’t you leave in the afternoon?”

“It’s a long drive. We need to be there before dark so we can set up camp; otherwise we’ll all have to sleep in the trailer.”

The idea of Sunny sleeping in a trailer with her ex-boyfriend definitely makes my rage meter spike.

Sunny’s voice softens as she explains. “I made the plans before you showed up—after I saw all the pictures and couldn’t get a hold of you. I didn’t think you were coming. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to see you, and then there you were, knocking on my door at two in the morning.”

I trace the edge of her jaw with a fingertip. I’m pulling out all the stops. “You don’t have to explain. It’s my fault.”

“It was a misunderstanding.”

“Because I’m an idiot.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Sometimes I am.” I kiss the bottom of her chin and the tip of her nose, hovering over her lips. “You wanna go inside?”

“Inside?”

“I feel like I should apologize.”

“And we need to go inside for that?”

“I like to demonstrate how sorry I am with actions, not words.”

“What kind of actions?”

“The kind that result in multiple orgasms.”

“Oh. Well, we should definitely go inside then.”

CHAPTER NINE

SNEAK ATTACK!

Sunny and I spend the afternoon in bed, working up a serious appetite while I discover exactly how bendy she is. By the time we’re done, she’s had four orgasms, I’ve had two, and we’ve had sex in positions I’d never considered feasible.

“I’m starving.” I’m still between her legs, enjoying the feel of Sunny’s hands running up and down my back. The come-down from my orgasm lingers. It’s an incredible feeling, second only to winning a hockey game.

“I don’t think you need any more cookie today.”

“I haven’t even eaten—” I lift my head from her chest. She’s got the cutest look on her face, all wide-eyed and pleased with herself. “You being funny, Sunny Sunshine?”

She grins.

“I can always eat more cookie.” I start kissing a path down her stomach, but she grabs my head in her hands.

“If you go down on me again you’re either going to have a callus on your tongue, or I’m going to have one on my cookie.”

I laugh and kiss my way back up to her mouth. “I need to eat some real food anyway. Let’s put clothes on and go out. I wanna take you somewhere nice.”

“Oooh! I know the perfect place. You’re gonna love it!”

Sunny pushes on my chest and rolls out from under me, hopping to her feet.

Half an hour later we’re dressed and in downtown Guelph. My idea of the perfect place to eat isn’t the same as Sunny’s. We’re at a vegan restaurant. I’m not knocking the food. Plants are actually pretty tasty. I just know I’m going to be hungry by the time we get back in the car. Still, she’s excited, so I order half the menu and stuff my face with food that’s never canoodled with a cow or even a fish.

I falsely believe that no one who works here can possibly watch hockey. They all have dreads and wear shoes made out of hemp. But I’m dead wrong about the hockey thing. The guy who seats us knows exactly who I am, and he can’t stop talking about how much he wishes I’d been traded to Toronto.

Sunny must come to this place a lot, because the wait staff seem to know her. She introduces me to a bunch of people, but I can’t keep their names straight, and my usual nicknames don’t work since they’re all the same variety of granola. She also doesn’t call me her boyfriend. She doesn’t call me anything other than my name, but we sit on the same side of the table instead of across from each other, and she snuggles into my side. That says a lot more than a title.

Later, when we get back to her house, we watch a movie. Naked. Well, there isn’t much watching after the first fifteen minutes, but it was fun while it lasted, and even more fun afterward. When Sunny falls asleep on the couch, I raid the fridge. I don’t find much aside from healthy options and rice or almond milk. I think I’ve hit the jackpot when I check the freezer and find it full of baked goods. Sadly, all the lids have those red circles with the line through them covering the face of a stick man eating the contents. There’s also a pot leaf on there. It must be Sunny’s dad’s research. He works for a medical marijuana lab, perfecting strains. He’s insanely smart. Apparently Sunny likes to help with the baking part of that. I call a local pizza shop and order myself a snack.

Sunny wakes up as I’m polishing off my midnight meal. A pile of cleaned-off chicken wing bones sits next to the Styrofoam container. Sunny stretches, and the blanket I’ve covered her with falls so her nipples peek out.

“What’re you doing?”

“Staring at your boobs.”

She blinks blearily, pulling the blanket up to cover the goods and leans forward to inspect what’s in my bowl. Her nose crinkles in that cute way that tells me she’s grossed out. “Your bowl is an animal graveyard.”

“It’s delicious, though.”

“You like a box of death for a snack?”

“It sounds way less appealing when you say it like that.”

She stands, dropping the blanket on the floor. “I’m going to bed.”

I drop the last bone in the bowl. “Hold on. I’m coming, too.”

“You can’t leave those there.” She points to the death bowl. “Andy will eat them and be sick.”

I rush to clean them up as she heads for the stairs.

Tonight’s the last night we get to sleep together. Tomorrow morning she’s leaving on that stupid road trip. I need to make sure I’m on her mind while we’re apart. I don’t try for sex again; I go for a snuggle instead. Sunny falls asleep wrapped around me, her warm cheek on my chest.

***

I wake up to terrible, humid breath in my face. I crack a lid to find Andy’s nose an inch away from mine. “Hey, buddy. You need a mint.” I roll over, but Sunny’s side of the bed is already empty. It’s only seven in the morning, still early, but she’s leaving in a couple of hours, so I drag myself out of bed, throwing off the heavy hands of sleep. I don’t bother with boxers. My plan is to find her and use my morning wood to my advantage.

When I reach the stairs, I’m hit with the sweet smell of cinnamon. Sunny can bake, as evidenced by the treats in the freezer. Her cookies are the best. I snicker as I take the stairs down to the kitchen. Now that I’ve eaten her cookie, I have all kinds of dirty baked-goods jokes. Unfortunately, it’s another one of those things I can’t share with the guys.

I find her in the kitchen. Her hair is still in the same braid from last night, except it’s a mess. The sun streams in the window over the sink where she’s rinsing fresh fruit, the light catching the fine blond flyaways, creating a halo. She’s wearing shorts and a tank top, and she’s braless.

She doesn’t notice me right away, so I lean against the doorjamb to watch her. She hums along to the radio as she peels peaches. I wish she wasn’t leaving this morning.

I circle around behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist. It would be so easy to get her naked and get inside her right on the counter. She gasps, and at first I think it’s out of surprise, but then I notice the fine line of blood welling across the pad of her index finger.

“Ah, shit, Sunny. I’m sorry.” I shimmy us over to the sink, turn on the tap, and adjust the water temperature. When it’s cold I put her hand under the stream. So much for a good-morning surprise.

Sunny turns her head away, pressing her cheek into my chest. “Is it still bleeding?”

I put pressure below the gash, checking to see how bad it is. It’s a clean cut, and it’s not too deep, just a surface wound. Blood wells again so I move her hand back under the water. “It’s not bad. It doesn’t need stitches or anything.” I kiss the top of her head.

She does this shuddery thing.

“You got bandages down here?”

“I think there might be some in the drawer.” She flops her hand in the general direction of the cupboards to our right.

“I’ll get one, then?” I can’t move until she stops leaning on me.

“I think I need to sit down.” The words come out all drunken sounding. Then Sunny slides down my body. I catch her under the arms before she hits the floor.

“Sweets?” I crouch, using my shoulder to stop her head from lolling around. Her eyes are rolled up, and she’s total dead weight. She fainted. I prop her against the cabinets, adjusting her limp body so she won’t fall over. This isn’t going the way I planned.

The paper towels are a couple inches out of reach. To prevent her from falling over, I stand in front of her, bracing my thigh against her shoulder to hold her up. It isn’t the best position, well, not for the situation, anyway. My dick is two inches from her face, and I’m naked.

She starts to come to as I snatch up the paper towels. Ripping off a couple of sheets, I reposition to crouch again, but she wraps her arms around my legs and face-butts me in the junk. I grunt, pain shooting up my spine and nailing me right in the back of the throat. Bile comes with it, as does the sensation that my balls are going to forever reside below my Adam’s apple.

I drop to the floor in front of her, gritting my teeth. My vision blurs and then clears.

“Miller?” She’s all breathy and confused.

I feel her palm on my cheek. Her piercing scream makes my ears hurt as much as my balls. Then she faints again.

I wipe at the damp spot on my cheek and check my fingers. There’s a faint streak of red, almost dried already. I wet the paper towel and wipe my cheek until it comes clean. Then I wrap a clean paper towel around her bloody finger and wait for her to come around a second time. My balls still really fucking hurt, but they’ll be fine in a couple hours. A face-butt to the groin is nothing like a puck or a stick to the cup.

Her eyes flutter open.

“Hey.”

She glances around, taking in her position on the floor. “Did I faint?”

“Twice.”

“I don’t handle the sight of blood well.”

“I figured that out.”

“Sorry.”

“Aside from the face-butt to the balls, it’s cool.” Chicks don’t understand how much it hurts to get bagged. I’ve heard Vi talk about how chicks give birth, and I’m sure that hurts like a motherpucker, but at least there’s the option for drugs to take away the pain. When a guy gets a shot to the nuts, there’s nothing we can do but put a bag of frozen peas on it and wait for our balls to come back down from our throats.

“The face-butt to what?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it. I’m going to get you a bandage now, ’kay?”

At her nod, I stand and turn toward the cabinets she pointed to in the first place.

“You’re naked.”

“Yup.” I open the drawer and rummage around, looking for a bandage. I move aside a ball of elastic bands and a million pens and pieces of scrap paper.

“Why?”

I glance over my shoulder. “I’m giving being a nudist a shot. What do you think?”

“Naked looks good on you.”

She gives me a weak smile and sits cross-legged on the floor, showing me her lack of panties under her shorts.

“Not as good as it looks on you.”

I find the bandages at the very back of the drawer, along with some antibiotic cream that’s two months out of date. It’ll do.

Getting back down to her level, I sit on the tile floor. My balls clench up, and my dick shrinks, trying to get away from the cold. Sunny closes her eyes as I unwrap the paper towel and check the cut again. It’s stopped bleeding for the most part, and it’s already clean, so all I need to do is cover it up. I use two bandages instead of one, in case there’s some bleed-through.

I toss the bloody paper towels in the trash and kiss the back of her hand. “All done.”

She peeks up, her expression wary until she sees the bandage.

“How’d you ever manage to make it through a hockey game?”

It’s kind of a joke, but kind of not. Hockey players get roughed up all the time. Everyone who plays professional sports should expect a few stitches along the way, especially with skates in the mix. I’ve had at least five occasions I can think of where I’ve needed stitches, whether from skates, a fast-moving puck, or a stick to a place without much padding. Most of the time, if it isn’t too bad, I get sewn up on the bench and get back in the game.

“I try not to look when people get into fights. I can handle it on TV, but in real life . . .” She shudders and pales.

The oven beeps, and she uses my shoulders to pull herself up. I stand along with her, gripping her at the waist when she falters.

“Why don’t you let me get it?”

“I’m fine. I can do it myself.” She’s almost snippy.

I let go, and she face-plants into my chest. Wrapping an arm around her waist, I lift her easily on to the counter. She grunts and makes an attempt at resisting, but she’s too unsteady, so she ends up gripping my arms instead.

“I can take a pan out of the oven, Sunny. Heating frozen food until it’s edible is one of my specialties.”

She makes a sound somewhere between a stifled laugh and an aggravated sigh.

“I’m not joking. I’m the best cook of frozen food in all of Chicago. I’d go as far as to say all of Illinois, but I don’t want to seem like I have a big ego or anything.”

“Miller.”

“Sunny.”

The oven beeps again. This time she lets go of my shoulders and motions toward it. I grab an apron off the counter and tie it around my waist to protect my dick before I open the oven. Inside is a huge pan of cinnamon buns, covered in pecans and bubbling around the edges. I put the mitts on and take them out, setting them on the granite counter.

“Where did you get these?”

“I made them.”

“When?”

“This morning, while you were sleeping.”

“Like, from scratch?”

“Yup.”

“Dough and all?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s what scratch means.”

I stop ogling the buns and look over my shoulder. I’m almost a hundred-percent sure that was sarcasm. She’s still sitting on the counter, her feet and head dangling.

“I’m impressed.” I search the cupboards for a couple of plates and rifle through the drawers until I find something to help remove them from the pan.

“They still need to be iced.”

“I don’t need icing.”

I’m about to dig in when I hear the soft thud of her feet hitting the ground.

“You’re impatient.” She hip-checks me out of the way and grabs a serving tray.

I step aside and lean against the counter while she places the tray over the buns and then flips the whole thing upside down. Jiggling it around, she lifts the baking pan to reveal glistening, pecan-and-syrupy rolls. Fragrant steam wafts into the air. My mouth is watering, and I’m starving. My post-sex wings last night have already been burned off. I need to feed the beast.

I go to grab one, and Sunny smacks my hand. “They’re too hot.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Let me put the icing on first so you don’t burn off your tongue.”

“I’m hungry.”

“As hungry as you were last night?” She’s looking at the bowl, not me.

“Is that an invitation or a request for a repeat?” I move in behind her, pressing my sort-of hard-on against the small of her back. “Because I’m definitely interested in more of last night, and more of this morning.”

“This morning?”

“Well, maybe not the fainting part, or you trying to dice off your fingertip, but this—” I gesture to the kitchen and kiss her shoulder. “What we’re doing here, I like this. I’ve never done it before.”

“Had someone faint on you?” She stirs the icing, but her breath hitches and a flush creeps up her neck.

“Woken up to someone I like making me breakfast.”

“No one’s ever made you breakfast?”

“Nope. Except for Skye, but that doesn’t count since she’s my stepmom, and everything she makes comes from a package.”

Sunny turns around in my arms, her expression pensive. “What about when you were a kid? Didn’t anyone make you breakfast before school and stuff?”

“Mostly I ate cereal in the morning, since it was just me and my dad and he’s a sucky cook.” I stare at the cupboards, taking in the details. Memories of my mom are vague. Also, most of them aren’t nice, and it’s not something I talk about much. Up until now I’ve avoided it with Sunny.

Sunny runs a finger up my arm and over my shoulder until she reaches my jaw. She curls it around my chin and angles my head so I’m looking at her, not into space. “What happened to your mom?”

I twirl a lock of her hair between my fingers, considering how much I want to share. Fanning out the end, I brush it back and forth across my lips before I speak. “She had an inoperable brain tumor. She died when I was three.”

Sunny strokes my cheek. Her affection doesn’t feel like it’s made of pity. “I’m so sorry.”

I shrug. “I don’t remember her much. She got headaches a lot. They thought they were migraines. Mostly I remember her being in the hospital. Then it was me and my dad for the most part. Even before she was gone it was my dad taking care of things.”

“That must’ve been so hard.”

“It was hardest on my dad. I was too young to get what was going on. I wasn’t an easy kid. I had lots of energy. School was hard for me. I needed a lot of attention, and my dad worked long hours.”

I leave out the hardest part to talk about: that none of Dad’s attempted relationships worked out because of me. Single dads are only cool in movies. It was clear early on that school wasn’t going to be my thing. I didn’t pick things up as fast as I should have, so I lagged behind the other kids. One chick told my dad she didn’t sign up for a special-needs kid. She dropped the “R” bomb. I never saw her again after that.