“Bane,” he said, dead serious in that commanding voice. “Are you sure?”
I cracked a smile and brushed a finger against his forehead. “You know you get these wrinkles in between your brows when you’re so serious?”
He let out a breath, his expression relaxing. “I’m glad you didn’t pass out. I have no idea how to explain to work that your demise wasn’t my fault.”
“Quite suspicious. I’ll probably need a restroom soon though.” I drank more water.
“There’s a port-a-potty.” He cocked his chin at the nearby facilities.
“I’d rather pee under a tree.”
He cracked a laugh.
“Were you seriously worried?”
“I honestly don’t want our coworkers to hear of you dying out here and thinking I had anything to do with it.”
“Jerk,” I teased, pinching his side.
Sunny flinched away, smirking. “Careful. You might pee on yourself.”
“I’m not cleaning it up.”
He pulled out his phone. “Was so busy watching you for signs of further distress that I forgot to text the group.”
A warm sensation rose in my chest, and not the heat exhaustion kind. His worry was utterly sweet. Maybe Sunny had a sunny side to his doom and gloom after all.
“What do you want to do?”
I pulled away from my thoughts. “I can call Diya. You go back to your friends.”
He seemed genuinely perplexed the way he looked at me. “Isn’t your sister working? I’ll take you back.”
“Ubers exist here. Go enjoy yourself and be with your friends.”
He glanced past my shoulder. “Nah. I didn’t want to come anyway. Now I have an excuse to leave.”
I snorted. “Am I your scapegoat? So your friends can blame your girl when you ditch them? Savage. They’re going to be rooting for you when you tell them about our breakup.”
“First of all, it will look disconcerting on my part if they know you left because of getting ill and I stay out here instead of taking care of you. But more importantly, I need to make sure you don’t relapse.”
“I won’t. As long as I stay away from intense heat and sun, I’ll be fine. Look, no more goose bumps.”
He eyed the arm I was holding out as evidence. “So those bumps are normal?”
I looked down at a hundred tiny water blisters created by my sweat when the sun was trying to cook my flesh. I cringed, retracting my arm, embarrassed. I, however, refrained from popping them so little pockets of water oozed out. “They’ll go away.”
Sunny texted again before buckling in. I followed suit when he eased out of the parking lot. “Even if your sister drove you back, you’d be left alone. Not taking that chance.”
I watched his profile. I never had the chance to just look at him. Usually, we saw each other in passing or during brief conversations or at meetings when I was focused on important things. Sitting here in silence while he drove was surprisingly pleasant. Might as well enjoy it while it lasted, because it would be short-lived. “You’re not annoyed that you have to leave?”
“I’m annoyed they dragged us out there and you got sick.”
The right corner of my mouth went up. Was he actually mad for me instead of at me?
He side-eyed me. “What are you staring at?”
“You have a nice side to you.”
“You think I look nice from the side?”
“That’s not—you know that’s not what I meant.”
He focused on the road.
I clapped my hands. “Let’s get shave ice.”
“You almost passed out.”
“And ice helps. So does sugar.”
“Were you faking it?”
“Yeah. I faked water blisters. Witness my powers.”
“Fine. Where do I go?”
I gave him directions. We could go only one of two ways on the highway, and we took a right, toward the villa, to a little shave ice shop tucked out of the way in Kawaihae. There was enough shade on the stretch of restaurants, shops, and convenience stores to stand outside and not pass out.
