Sunshine Kisses

Yes.

‘I’m not judging! I actually read that book you posted on Instagram over Christmas. It was good.’

She bit her lip to hide her smirk. The small town holiday romance had become a fast favourite. Delicious yearning between the two main characters. Tender, intimate sex scenes. It had also been significantly milder than anything Erik was likely to find in that stash.

‘I’m just saying, you’re only here for a week. How many books could you possibly get through?’ Erik continued. A thoughtful look crossed his face and he raised his eyebrows suggestively. ‘Or do you only need to read a few key parts of each?’

Abby returned to glowering, hoping the flush she could feel spreading through her cheeks would read as annoyance. ‘I need them for research. For my thesis.’

And for another project. The one she wasn’t ready to tell him about just yet. That document tucked away on her laptop, ever growing as she plotted meet-cutes, subverted tropes, and untangled third act conflicts.

‘What’s your thesis? The way romance novels with cute illustrated covers are making it socially acceptable for women to consume porn on public transport? Because the woman I sat next to on the plane was reading this,’ he said, holding up a new book as he paged through it, stopping when he got to a bright pink tab, ‘and I’m now slightly uncomfortable about the way she started looking at me after her second glass of wine.’

The hero of the book in question had Erik’s same messy, dark blonde hair and chiselled features. A random lady ogling her friend didn’t sit well with her, but it was unsurprising. Even more so when one considered how skilled said hero was with his tongue in the scene Erik was now reading.

‘You’re not far off,’ Abby said, hoping to draw his attention back away from the book. He didn’t need to see which specifics she had underlined. ‘I’m exploring the link between the rise in the mainstream success of contemporary romance novels and women’s increasing freedom to acknowledge their sexuality. Romance novels allow women a non-exploitative way to encounter new ideas and acts, even new kinks. Which you know. Because I’ve told you before.’

‘Yeah. I just wanted to see you blush when you said “kinks”.’ Erik smirked at her, eyes alight with mischief.

Abby stuck out her tongue, though annoyingly enough, a faint warmth was blooming across her cheeks. For all the work she’d done to become more comfortable talking about sex, it still wasn’t easy. She considered herself extremely sex positive in theory. But in practice, her confidence still left a lot to be desired.

Erik stretched out on the bed as Abby unpacked her bags, piling seemingly endless books onto the nightstand and hanging more dresses than she probably needed for a week inside the wardrobe. She basked in the return of the safe silence that had enveloped so much of their lives together. As much as they could also make endless conversation, the quiet companionship they shared was a gift she’d never found elsewhere. There was a complete lack of performance in their friendship—a sense of security she could only dream of experiencing with anyone else.

Abby smiled when she glanced at Erik and saw that his eyes had shut. He wasn’t sleeping yet. The slight tension he always carried in his forehead and jaw while awake was still there, but softened as he nestled deeper into her pillows. A lot about the coming seven days would be stressful, but she hoped he would be able to find more of these moments of peace.

Returning to her suitcase, Abby reached inside to retrieve the last of her toiletries and transfer them to the shared bathroom between their adjoining rooms. Distracted by thoughts of smoothing the little furrow between Erik’s eyebrows, she absently grabbed what she assumed was a box of tampons. Then she looked down and realised the glossy cardboard in her hand had a picture of a bright pink vibrator on it.

‘Everything okay?’ Erik’s eyes flew open at the small squeak she let out.

Abby dropped the box back into her suitcase with a small thump and let the lid fall closed. She nodded, feeling her flush from before deepen and spread. Erik tracked her movements with a quizzical look as she dumped the suitcase on the floor and shoved it hastily under the bed, actual tampons still inside. No matter how close they might be, he didn’t need to see her sex toy. Especially since she hadn’t been aware she owned it until a few seconds before.

Oh.

Sarah.

Sarah had finished packing for her that morning. She’d obviously squeezed in a gift. One Abby would kill her over later.

Abby composed her face into something more casual and flopped onto the bed next to Erik. ‘It’s time to go and meet them, isn’t it?’

Erik checked his watch, still the same one his grandfather had passed down to him on his eighteenth birthday. While the brown leather strap probably needed replacing, the gold rimmed face was still pristine. It was simple, classic, and lightly masculine. It suited him. ‘I said I’d have you here by dinner. We can hide out a little longer.’ He reached for her hand, squeezing gently again. ‘I’ll be right by your side the whole week. You stop me strangling my mother; I’ll stop yours having a go at you.’

Abby laughed, and felt some of the stress of the past few months leave her body. Her degree, her parents, her first serious breakup. It all erased itself as Erik ran his hand higher up her arm, applying light pressure all the way.

She hadn’t felt the same sense of soothing since— Nope. Not the time to dwell on that.

Attempting to distract herself from a dangerous line of thinking, she asked, ‘What’s Nora done to warrant such violence? I thought you were the golden boy.’

‘Unfortunately I am not enough for her anymore.’ He sighed dramatically. ‘Apparently she’s desperate for golden grandchildren. And since Casey and I broke up…let’s just say she’s worried about the timeline.’

A small kernel of discomfort twisted Abby’s gut at the thought of Erik getting married and having babies. She thought she’d covered it with a wry grin, but the deepening lines on his brow told her she had failed. ‘She knows you’re twenty-five, right? And that she has another son?’

Erik snorted. ‘Yeah. She wants to be a young grandmother, apparently. And Alex is…well. Alex. I suspect she’s come to terms with the fact that she may never get grandchildren there.’

Abby smirked at the idea of Erik’s serial dater of a big brother—though dating was perhaps a generous term for what he did—growing old behind a white picket fence with 2.5 children. But even that ludicrous mental image couldn’t stop that kernel growing in her stomach. She supposed the bright side of Erik settling down would be seeing him more often. But it wouldn’t be the same. They’d never acknowledged it openly, but when one of them started seeing someone, a subtle shift occurred in their relationship. There would certainly be no more lying on hotel room beds together, fingers knotted between them on the bedspread, trading exasperated whispers about their parents. No more hand holding, no more lazy hugs any time Erik found her within grabbing distance, no more kisses to the sides and top of her head. The casual touches that felt as natural as breathing would be replaced with hugs of greeting and farewell and not much in between. It would be nothing she hadn’t experienced before, but outlined with the permanence of marriage, it would feel different.

Erik liked to say that Abby craved touch more than anyone he’d ever met, but that wasn’t strictly true. She could be remarkably touch-averse with most people. She merely deeply enjoyed touch from a select group, and their years of friendship had put Erik top of that list.

It wasn’t just the easy physical intimacy she would miss. Thanks to a childhood pinky swear, they told each other everything. That dynamic would inevitably change when he became serious with someone again. Going the rest of her life without him as her confidante, without their unusual candour, was a painful prospect. But after the way her relationship with Sam had ended…she wasn’t going to risk Erik’s next shot at happiness going the same way.