Cheesy on the Eyes by Teagan Hunter Page 0,42
she understands me just fine.
She pushes the hair brushing her face back behind her ear. She tucks her lips together, trying to hide the shy grin playing on them, and I want to reach over and pull it free.
I don’t. Instead I force myself to shift my eyes off of her before I do something dumb.
Part of me is happy I brought her here because I want to share this moment.
But the other part knows I’m walking a thin line.
I can’t stop thinking of her when she’s not around, and when she is around—which is every evening now—I have to repeatedly talk myself out of touching her.
Because I want to touch her so damn badly.
She said the sand tickling her feet is the best feeling in the world.
I’m willing to bet it doesn’t hold a candle to how her skin feels against mine.
My desire to keep my promise that I wouldn’t cross any physical lines with her is dwindling by the day. The more time we spend together, the more time I want to spend with her.
Yeah…bringing her out here was a big mistake.
“It’s starting to get brighter,” she comments quietly, eyes trained on the horizon.
“This is my favorite part,” I say.
“Watching the sun peek over the water?”
I shake my head. “No. Don’t get me wrong, I love watching that too, but right now—this moment, the last few remaining minutes of night, falling away to a bright new day—it’s like a fresh start on not just the day, but everything.”
“You’re making me want to come out here with you every morning now.”
“I’d let you.”
I mean the words.
And I’m surprised by that.
I’ve always been a private person. It’s just who I am. But this? Coming out here every morning for an hour to refresh? I’m very protective of it.
Somehow, though, sharing it with her doesn’t sound bad at all.
We sit in the silence as the sun lifts over the coastline, lighting the sky in a brilliant orange.
“Holy hell. This is stunning,” she says in awe. “Thank you for forcing me awake to see this. It’s almost making me reconsider my thoughts on the ocean.”
“Why are you so scared of the water?” I ask.
“It’s just so…unknown, you know?” She laughs lightly. “Of course you do—you said I remind you of it.” Her lips pull into a saccharine smile, and I wonder how many times she’s thought of my words and made that same smirk. “I’m not big on the unknown. It leaves too much room for hurt.”
I want to ask her so many questions, but she claps her hands, moving on before I can ask any.
“Anyway, I have a surprise.” She digs into her bag again, this time pulling out a package full of cookies. “Breakfast is served.”
Shaking my head at her—though I’m not surprised anymore—I take the outstretched bundle of baked goods and help myself to a cookie, eating it in two bites.
She pulls out a few for herself before sealing the bag and putting it away.
“Can I ask you something?” she asks, nibbling slowly.
“I’m not giving you my Social Security number, Thea.”
“That’s fine. I’ll figure it out after I dump your body in the ocean.”
“So now you’re the one killing me?”
“I guess we’ll just have to see.” She takes another sip of her coffee, covering her grin.
“What’d you want to ask?”
“This whole fake-dating thing…why’d you agree to help me?”
“It just felt like something I was supposed to do, and since my gut didn’t hate the idea and you seemed desperate, I agreed.”
“Just thought it sounded like fun? Something to pass the time?”
“No. I thought it sounded like pure fucking torture.”
She shoots daggers my way, pursing her lips. “Wow. Tell me how you really feel.”
“I don’t mean hanging out with you is pure torture.”
“Sure you don’t.”
I shake my head. “No, seriously. I love hanging out with you, getting to know the real you. It’s been fun. You’re fun. I just meant the whole con of it all. It makes me feel…”
“Like a snake?”
“Like my father.”
“Oh.” She clamps her lips together, unasked questions swimming in her eyes. “I’m not going to pry, Sully. If you want to tell me, you can, but if you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine too.”
I take a deep breath. “You know my juju thing, as you like to call it? I’ve been intuitive since I was young. It was small shit at first, like a school bully or someone in our neighborhood. Nothing major. Then I started getting this real uneasy feeling around my dad.