A Bad Day for Sunshine (Sunshine Vicram #1)(94)

It surprised her. “You heard that?”

“Please answer.”

She lowered her head and nodded. “I’m sorry. It was a long time ago.”

“Fuck you,” he said softly. He stepped away from the window, raked a hand through his hair, thought a minute, then came back. “Don’t try it again.”

She held up her pinkie. “Pinkie swear.”

“This isn’t funny. After that shit with Lynelle and her cronies today—”

“Cruz, I’m okay.” Without thinking, she took his hands. His glacial hands. “Oddly enough, this was one of the best days of my life.”

He stared at her in doubt, but his fingers threaded with hers.

“How did you get here? I thought you were grounded.”

“I was. I rode my bike. And I am, but my dad also understood my side of things.”

“And what side would that be? Did you get in a fight with Liam?”

He looked at their fingers. Ran the pads of his over the length of hers. It caused warm, tingling sensations in the strangest places. “Sure. We’ll call it that.”

She took a hit off her inhaler then crawled onto her window seat. Jimmy walked in and sat on her bed.

“Would you like to come in?” she asked him.

“Nah. I don’t want to get you in trouble. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh, right. No phone. When will you get it back?”

“I have it back. I just wanted to make sure you were okay in person.”

If fireworks had burst from her chest, she wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised, her elation was so powerful. “You know, you’re making my room ice over.”

“I know. I have to get back, anyway.”

“You have to go?” She rose onto her knees.

“Yeah. I promised my dad I’d only be gone thirty minutes. Can I come by tomorrow when you get out of school?”

“Yes. Please do. How long are you suspended for?”

“Don’t know yet. We’ll find out tomorrow.”

“Okay. Let me know.”

“Will do,” he said, still studying their fingers.

She leaned closer. “Thank you. For today.”

He shook his head as though embarrassed. “I’m so sorry for what they did to you.”

“I’m not.” When he looked at her in surprise, she said, “It was really a setup to reveal who my true knight in shining army jacket was.”

“Ah. So, it was a setup.”

“Yep. Sorry I had to go to such extreme measures.”

“Was it worth it?”

“Every bit and then some.” As her grandpa always said.

“Are you guys gonna kiss now?” Jimmy asked. “I can leave.”

Laughter erupted out of both of them, but before she could change her mind, Auri leaned out the window and brushed her lips across the corner of his mouth.

He let her, then ducked, got on his bike, and took off.

“That was a good kiss.”

She giggled and turned to Jimmy. “The best I’ve ever had.”


Sun was on her way home with a boxful of file folders and reports—she was going to go through every tip and every piece of evidence herself—when her phone rang.

“It’s Mom,” Elaine said.

“Yes, I figured that out when your title popped onto the screen.”

“Right, well, you should know there’s a boy at Auri’s window. What do I do?”

“Are you kidding me?” She groaned aloud. “Okay, tell Dad to go to the kitchen—”

“Yes.”

“—grab a steak knife—”

“Yes?”

“—and make you a sandwich, because holy cow, Mom. I don’t care if there’s a boy at the window. Now, if there’s a boy inside the house, yeah. That’s when you take the steak knife and pay the guy a visit.”

“Oh, well, there’s one of those, too.”

“What?”

“Do you want me to keep an eye on them?”

“With every fiber of my being.”

Elaine breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m on it.”

Hell yes. Definite advantages to living in your parents’ backyard. Auri didn’t stand a chance, poor kid. Sun couldn’t have stopped the giggle that bubbled out of her if she’d tried.

“Oh, wait, the boy at the window left. And the boy inside is wearing a hospital gown.”

“Jimmy Ravinder.”

“Oh yes. He’s so sweet. Shouldn’t he still be in the hospital with that gown and all?”

“I’m thinking yes. I’m stopping at the Roadhouse, then I’ll be home.”

“Okay. I made stew.”

“Thanks, Mom. You know you don’t have to cook for us.”

“Stop it. Take your time. I’ll keep an eye on them.”

Sun couldn’t help it. She texted her daughter. “Knock, knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“A boy at your window.”

After a long—very long—pause, Auri called. “Grandma?”

“Grandma.”

“He’s gone now.”