Page 103
Story: Stealing Sunshine
I’ve never had such an obvious claim laid to me by someone before, let alone a woman whom I’ve wanted to claim as my own for a long fucking time.
Her confident smile doesn’t waver. Not for a single second.
“Yes, Bryce. My girl. In here and out there and everywhere in between. If that’s okay with you, of course.”
“More than, Sunshine.”
31
DAISY
“See ya, Ms. Mitchell!”
“Bye!”
“Have a good afternoon, guys. See you tomorrow!” I reply, waving at the cluster of second graders as they speed off down the halls, backpacks flopping against their backs.
A few still linger at their cubbies, but they’ve stopped paying much attention to those around them, myself included. After a long day, I’m just as ready to get out of here as they are.
Heading back into my classroom, I smile softly. This job is tiring and stressful, but it’s also incredibly fulfilling. I remember being in elementary and middle school and hating every single day of it. Until the eleventh grade, I had no idea that I wanted to become a teacher.
It was a sudden desire that sideswiped me and the goals and dreams I thought I had. I swerved off the path I had previously been set on, and on a day like today, I’m really grateful for that hit.
My book bag is already on my desk when I begin filling it with my scattered papers and laptop. For the last three days, I’ve been buzzing by the end of every school day, antsy to get finished so Ican see Bryce.
Ever since our conversation and . . .actionsin my old bedroom, things have been different in the best way. Neither of us seem interested in going back to how things were before. We’ve been spending every moment we can together, just taking the time to enjoy the pace we’re moving. It’s slow but steady.
My hunt for a new place is non-existent. I gave up browsing after the first week of me staying at Bryce’s place, and starting to look again now feels wrong. If I find one, what would be my excuse to stay? We might have made some progress in the romance department, but I don’t think Bryce is the type of person to move that quickly.
Living together now is different. It wasn’t a decision that stemmed from a previous relationship. Risking changing anything now when we’re still on such fragile ice and I’ve begun to get to know this woman on such a fundamental level isn’t a priority.
Slowly, I’ve started picking up on all of these new little habits and quirks she has that I hadn’t before. Like how she never leaves a dirty dish in the sink, and if she finds one that I’ve forgotten about, she’s instantly squirting soap into it and washing it thoroughly before drying it and putting it away. Or the way she’s started to fill the fridge with all of the foods and beverages that I’ve mentioned loving at one time or another.
Half of the fridge is full of my favourite brand of boxed iced tea, and she’s even started adding the peach-flavoured kind because I said I wanted to try it once after seeing a commercial for it on TV. And even though I’ve never seen her eat stringed cheese, there’s an entire bulk-sized box of them in the bottom drawer. I take two every day to work.
My collection of throw blankets is now always rolled perfectly into a wicker basket in the corner of the living room, save for my favourite yellow one that’s found a permanent home draped over the back of the couch.
Bryce is a giver. She’s the kind of person who makes up for her blunt words and sometimes cold demeanour with thoughtfulactions in a space she deems safe. But even considering her cold for one moment feels wrong after getting to know her these weeks.
She’s not cold. It may come off like that to some, but she’s just guarded. And with a family like hers, how can anyone blame her for that? I’ve enjoyed pushing past her boundaries and getting to see the parts of her not many get to.
There’s a knock on the door, and I turn from my desk to where Delaney is waiting. She’s looking very fall today with a burnt-orange, plaid T-shirt dress and brown boots. I flash her a grin and wave her inside.
“Are you heading out?” I ask, zipping up my bag.
“Just about. We haven’t had a chance to chat this week, so I just wanted to stop by before I left and ask if you were up to grabbing lunch together tomorrow? Unless you have plans, of course.”
“I’d love to, Della.”
She taps a hand to the brown bag draped over her shoulder. “Great. I’ll see you tomorrow, then . . .”
Her words trail off, something catching her eye from the hallway. Hope swells in my chest at who could be showing up here now.
The sight of Bryce passing by Delaney in the doorway has my world brightening. She fixes her dark stare on me and doesn’t remove it as she crosses the classroom. I’m grinning like a fool despite the warning in her eyes by the time she reaches me and hauls me into her arms, placing her lips on mine.
It’s the first kiss I’ve gotten since Sunday. Yet, it’s a completely different breed. This is more for Delaney than it is for either of us. Bryce is making a statement, and I’m completely weak in the knees by it. It’s an unnecessary claiming, but she doesn’t know that, and I’m not going to tell her. Not if by keeping quiet, she’ll keep her warm lips pressed to mine for a few moments longer, making sure I know that I’m as much hers and she is mine, with or without the labels.
Feeling a bit devilish, I let loose a soft ghost of a moan that I know she hears and maybe even feels when she sinks her teeth into my lip and bites down gently. My smile tugs at the hold she has on my lip.
Table of Contents
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