Stranded with the Rockstar (Rockstar #1)

12. Sunny

The mornings are getting colder.

I make this observation before I even open my eyes. When I do blink them open, I discover that it's not even light outside yet, and I don't hear any of the birds that have been serving as my alarm clock. So maybe it's not morning yet, but it is definitely more chilly than normal.

It's not unusual for me to wake up in the middle of the night. I would typically get up now and add some more wood to the fire, but considering all of the rain yesterday, there is no fire to rekindle. I'll have to start from scratch once everything dries.

I'm lying on my side and Harry is behind me. His arm is wrapped around my waist, tighter than usual—probably due to the cold. And I would love to go back to sleep, except something is being pressed uncomfortably into my back.

Without looking back, I attempt to figure out what it could be. It's straight, and long, and hard. Did a branch or a stick from our wood pile somehow get in here? How would that have even happened?

I can solve that mystery later. It doesn't matter the reason, I need to move it or I'm not going to be able to sleep. I reach behind me slowly. I don't want to wake Harry, whose deep breathing tells me he is not disturbed by the object.

With our bodies so close, it's not an easy task to slide my hand between us, but I manage. It's not a branch. In fact, it feels like cloth. I'm able to circle my fingers around the end of it and must have finally woke Harry up because he groans sleepily in my ear.

My mouth drops open when the realization hits me. I release my hand and roll away from the...thing. There is just enough moonlight in the tent to see Harry's surprise at my sudden departure. "Sunny? What—"

He stops speaking as he looks down at himself. I see embarrassment cross his face for the first time since I met him, but he shakes it off quickly, giving me his half grin. "Sorry."

I turn away, unable to meet his eyes any longer. "But...why—"

"It just happens sometimes," he interrupts me. "To guys, when they are sleeping or right when they wake up. It's nothing. There's no reason."

I nod. I know that should make me feel better, but for some reason it doesn't. For a split second, I thought maybe he had that response to me somehow, but I should've known that wouldn't be the case—considering who he is, and who I am.

He rolls onto his back. "Let's go back to sleep."

I can't. "Actually, I think I'm up for the day."

"But it's still dark...and quiet."

"It's fine," I say quickly. "I'll just...check on the w...wood...I mean...I need to penis...I mean pee."

This can't get any worse. I just need to get out of here. "Actually, I'll get our breakfast. Could I boner," oh Dear Lord, "I mean borrow one of your baskets?"

"Yeah."

I'm glad I can't see his face because I'm sure he's silently laughing at me. As I turn around I see him throw his arm over his face and go back to sleep.

Looking into the trees, I have a realization. It's really, really dark in the middle of night below a canopy of branches. I can't go that way. I don't exactly have a flashlight, and I can't risk getting hurt again. Not to even mention the bugs that would swarm me. I guess I'll just wait the night out on the beach, where at least I have the moonlight—because there is no way I can go back in that tent. As I settle onto my butt, I cover my face with my hands, trying to muffle my laughter, and wishing I could just cry.

How did this all happen? All of it? Why did I do this to myself? If I had just gone through with the wedding, none of this would have happened. I wouldn't have been on the boat deck at two in the morning. I wouldn't have been missing my dad so much that I made the irrational and hysterical decision to step over the railing. I would be with Brett right now, living in his house on the ranch. I'd be in matrimonial bliss.

But instead, I'm here on a beach, hiding from an erection, trying desperately to keep my chuckles to a minimum and unable to stop the wave of memories as they crash into me...

"Brett, can I talk to you for a second?"

"Of course," he doesn't look up from his computer. "I'm just emailing the reverend."

"Can that wait? Please? It's important."

He finally raises his eyes and takes in my appearance. I walked the half mile to get here from my house in the pouring rain. I couldn't wait another minute. I had to get this over with. And now the water is dripping off of my hair and clothes and onto his kitchen floor. I look down and see a small puddle has formed around my boots.

It's times like this I wish I would have stayed in regular high school. I'd have a girlfriend to talk this through with, instead of my own self doubt.

Although, I didn't have any friends in school when I went there, so it's no guarantee one would have made herself available anyway.

"Roma, what's going on? Did you walk here?"

"I can't marry you," I blurt out.

Confusion takes over his face. "What do you mean? Why not? Did something happen?"

My mind quickly attempts a list of what 'something' could have happened for me to call off my wedding. A tornado took down the church? I accidentally poured purple paint all over my wedding dress? My long lost evil twin returned, captured me, and it's really her standing in front of you?

I decide on the truth. "I don't think I love you, Brett."

He stands up, and the chair he was sitting on slides backwards, forcefully and loudly. It may be the loudest noise I've ever heard.

"You don't think you love me? What does that even mean?"

It means I found a letter that my mother wrote my dad on their wedding day, and the heartfelt words were something I've never even come close to feeling. And if she felt that way and still left? What hope did we have? Absolutely none.

I don't tell Brett any of that though. I stay silent.

"Roma," his voice has changed from bewildered to disappointed. He slowly walks over to me and places his hands around my upper arms—gently, because Brett doesn't have an aggressive bone in his body. "Our wedding is in six days. We can't just cancel it if you're not sure."

"I'm sure. And to be frank, I think it's quite telling that you are more concerned about the wedding than the fact that I just told you that I don't love you."

He pauses, staring deep into my eyes. I stare back at his. Neither of us moves or speaks until Brett finally breaks the silence with a resigned sigh. He drops his hands. "Have you told anyone else?"

"No, but I will. This is my decision. I'll let all the guests know."

He gives me the half smile that I've always adored. "All ten of them?"

I smile back. "One of the many reasons to love a small wedding."

"I just want you to be happy, Roma. Are you sure you couldn't learn to love me? I would always take care of you."

"Could you learn to love me?"

He's surprised by my question, but doesn't deny it.

"Besides Brett, I don't think it's supposed to work like that."

He nods and gives me another smile, but this one is just sad. I want to cry. I want to cry so badly right now. But I do what I always do instead, I laugh.

"What's so funny?"

I snap out of my head and back to the beach. I look over my shoulder to see Harry.

*A/N: Learning a little more about Sunny now. And if you're thinking the story is pretty slow so far, I promise it's getting ready to pick up. Thank you for reading, and don't forget to take a second to vote!