Oh my god.
“That is hardly the case, Altan.” Sunny admonished.
“Did you or did you not bite me?” They were in the lobby of the Missoula shopping mall. It was small and quaint. And currently a battleground of epic proportions.
Altan had picked up a wolf named Sasha and a teen named Katie before driving the hour and a half it took to get to Missoula. Sunny liked Sasha, she was funny and sassy and Sunny thought Katie was the cutest thing ever.
Altan, however, could die a fiery death.
“Move on, will you! It’s already gone, you big baby.” Sunny rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.
“She bit you?” Katie asked, shaking her blonde head and laughing. Altan sent a sharp glare at her, but Katie gave Sunny the impression she was very used to it.
“Yes and I don’t appreciate it.” Sunny scoffed and stomped towards him. She stopped inches from his face and looked him in the eye.
“Well don’t manhandle me and shove money down my pants like you’re my pimp.” Altan scowled.
“Well, do what I tell you and that won’t happen.”
“Wait, you shoved money down her pants?” Sasha, the blue-eyed beauty asked from her place next to Katie. There was hate in her eyes and Sunny’s opinion of her decreased. She hated jealous women. Why can’t you just support your fellow gender, enough things were ganging up on women they didn’t need to turn on themselves.
“Yes, but that’s not the point,” Altan said sparing her a quick glance.
“It’s a point.” Katie threw in.
“Who asked you, Katie?!” He snapped.
“Don’t yell at her!” Sunny snapped back, going to cradle Katie’s head and glare with all her might at Altan.
“My God, woman!” Altan growled. “You are the most insufferable thing I have ever met!”
“Well send me back to New York then!” She fired back. Moony sighed and stepped in before both of them caused a scene. Looking around at the audience they had already gathered it was too late.
“Sháńdíín, we are going to get some more wrappings for your feet and the rest of you are more than happy to join us.” He said in the smooth, calm way of his. He hardly, if ever, used Sunny’s legal name. She hated it, for obvious reasons.
Who the fuck names their kid after the sun!
“Wait tape? Why tape?” Katie asked, tilting her head, a feat as Sunny’s arms were still cradling it.
“I put it around my toes so I don’t like die. I went to a foot doctor once and he said he’d seen better feet on a ninety-year-old diabetic man.” Sunny chirped, bad mood already forgotten with the promise of dance.
“Does it hurt to dance?” Katie contained, hazel eyes alit with wonder.
“Like a hell unimagined.” Sunny released Katie from her headlock and flounced away happily. “You guys have a sports store or something close to that?”
“Oh yeah, I’ll take you,” Sasha said, quickly grabbing Sunny’s arm. Sunny looked over her shoulder at Altan and frowned. He looked sad. Then she remembered where his wallet was. Fuck him. And his damn inhumanly handsome face.
Sunny turned back to look at Sasha. Sasha had eyes that were pools of iridescent blue, sculpted upon her creamy face like dazzling jewels. Strands of molten gold tumbled out of her scalp, cascading down her back like a waterfall. Cherry lips, crystal white teeth: she truly was a beautiful sight to behold. Sure she was pretty, but could she cook minute rice in fifty-eight seconds? So obviously she and her deliciously curvy figure could go walk into a medium-sized hole and stay there.
“Well, there it is! Bye!” Sasha chipped before sashaying away. Sunny stared at her. Damn, she wished she could sashay. She turned back around and squared her shoulders. She was boss ass bitch who don’t need no man. She could do this.
As Sunny walked through the open glass doors of Sports Unlimited, an uncreative title, honestly, she was assaulted by the smell of feet and man. She coughed and waved a hand in front of her face.
God, it was like walking through soup, soup that sexually harassed women for fun. The walls were stocked full of colorful jerseys and merchandise. God, was that a Washington Redskins jersey? She gagged and pulled a face. Casually strolling, she had found out a week before this if you acted like you knew what you were doing people just accepted you and didn’t ask why a poor, brown woman was ‘shopping’ in Sacs, she perused the aisle.
All casual like.
Come on Sunny! They can sense fear and weakness. We are not weak. We are strong like… something that’s strong...
“Hah, steel is strong! Whoo!” She shouted when it came to her. Five eyes snapped over to her and Sunny ducked and acted like it wasn’t her. God. Waiting for a couple more seconds, she continued on her journey.
“Now here you go again, you say you want your freedom.” She sang to herself. She found that in times of trouble it never hurt to sing Fleetwood Mac. “Well, who am I to keep you down. It's only right that you should.” She shook her head in rhythm. She bobbed along the row that was said to house wrappings, but that was a lie because she couldn’t find any. Men and their terrible organizing skills.
“Play the way you feel it, but listen carefully to the sound of your loneliness." A man’s voice continued the song. Sunny jumped and spun around, eyes wide. She dropped the package of cloth she was holding in surprise.
The handsome man in front of her had tousled dark brown hair, which was thick and lustrous. His eyes were a mesmerizing deep ocean blue, flecks of silvery light performed ballets throughout. His face was strong and defined, his features molded from granite. He had dark eyebrows, which sloped downwards in a playful expression. He had lines around his eyes as if he was more comfortable laughing than scowling. His perfect lips were ripe for kissing. His strong hands, slightly rough from working, held the package she had dropped as he stared deep into her eyes. She couldn't help but blush.
“Sorry, I love that song. Couldn’t help but sing along.” He said awkwardly, he thrust the box into Sunny’s hands then shoved his into his front pockets. He was dressed in a simple pair of worn blue jeans and a ratty tee that had a creepy yellow sketch of Nosferatu on it. She liked it.
“No, worries.” She laughed and waved her hand, completely forgetting that she had something in it. It flew out of her hand and Sunny lunged to catch it. She fumbled with the box, it bounced in and out of her hands as she struggled. Finally, after what seemed like an hour, she managed to wrangle it back into control and, in an effort to appear nonchalant, she leaned against the self and promptly knocked everything off. “Oh, shit!” She exclaimed as she tried to catch the falling items.
“Whoops, I got it.” The Nosferatu wearing man said, being like thirty times more graceful and put together than Sunny. “There, all better.” He put the last box, a container of extra-large condoms, why the hell that would be in a sports store was beyond Sunny’s comprehension, on its shelf.
“Sorry.” She muttered, clutching her box to her chest.
“You alright?” He asked, eyes kind. Sunny looked up through her lashes and inwardly cringed. Way to go, you fucktard. Knock off the whole damn shelf in front of a cute boy, why don’t you!
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be, you stopped me from being knocked out by a box of extra-large condoms that have no place in a sports store. Like what even? Why are they here?” She rambled, chewing her bottom lip in a sign of nerves.
“Do you always ramble when you’re nervous Miss..?” He led and Sunny jumped to attention.
“I’m Sunny Redfeather, and yeah my brother says I babble worse than a brook after a rainy day.” She coughed out a laugh and scratched her wrist.
“I’m Greyson Livingston and don’t worry it’s cute.” He paused and tilted his head. “I haven’t seen you around before, have I?”
“Uh, no. I’m from Arizona.” Greyson smiled and she liked the way the skin around his eyes crinkled.
“Wow, far from home. What brings you here?”
“Family. I came from New York though, haven’t been West in a couple of years.” She admitted, sheepishly. Her uncle would be so mad. He was really the only reason why she would go home at all.
“Why were you in New York?” He asked, leaning much more calmly than Sunny did earlier, on the shelf.
“I go to Juilliard, for dance. Ballet actually.” Greyson’s blue eyes sparkled like a hot flame and a beaming grin stretched across his face. Butterflies swarmed in her gut at his smile. She’d never had such a smile directed at her before. It was nice.
“You do ballet?” Sunny tilted her head and furled her brows at his question.
“Yeah, that’s why,” she wiggled the box of cloth, ”I have these. It’s for my feet.”
“That’s fantastic!”
“I guess so.” She replied, unsure what to say to that.
“What I’m about to say might sound crazy but just hear me out.” Sunny’s eyes grew wide. He’s gonna make a skin suit outta me! “My daughter is taking ballet lessons from this horrendous teacher and the whole class hates her, me mostly because she doesn’t know that neon blue eyeshadow doesn’t go with her complexion. She’s a spring. I.. do you think you could teach them?” He pleaded. Sunny blinked once. Twice. Three times before she could speak.
“Okay, that was not what I thought you were gonna say.”
“What did you think I was going to say?”
“I thought you were gonna invite me back to your place and make a purse outta my face.” Greyson let out a billowing laugh and drew attention back on them. He slapped her arm in a friendly manner and almost pulled a rib with all his laughing. “Hey! It’s not funny! That could have happened!” She scowled. Grayson sobered up, although humor hadn't left his eyes, and smiled at her again.
“Sorry.”
“You’re not sorry.” She pouted. What was it with men today and saying sorry when they clearly were not sorry?
“Not really.”
“Rude.”
“Hey, you’re the one who thought I’d make a purse out of your face. Anyways I’m more of a satchel kinda guy.” He joked back.
“Greyson.”
“Yes, Miss Sunny?” He purred.
“If I teach your kid, you’ll never mention I thought you were going to make a purse out of my face.”
“Satchel and if you teach Dorothea ballet and not make her look like a prostitute in training I will not tell anyone you thought I was going to make a satchel with your face.” He stuck out his hand and Sunny took it to shake. His hands were tanned and calloused. She liked them, they were working hands.
“Who names their kid Dorothea?” She asked incredulously. Damn, and she thought her name was bad.
“Who names their kid Sunny?” Greyson fired back.
“It’s a nickname for Sháńdíín. It means Sunlight in my language. I’m Navajo.”
“That’s..”
“If you say exotic I will not be held accountable for my actions.” She interrupted him with a glare. Grayson put up his hands in defense.
“I was going to say neat. Your name is cool, Sunny. I like it.”
“Why did you name your kid Dorothea?” She asked again. Greyson scratched his head and Sunny got hit with a strong feeling of grief. It almost made her cry with the intensity of it.
“She’s named after her mother.” He said, hands back into his pockets. “I call her Dory.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t..” Greyson smiled softly, it didn’t crinkle and shook his head.
“You didn’t know. It’s alright.”
“Okay, if you say so. Uh, why don’t I give you my number and you give me yours and we can talk about this mutiny you’re planning later.” Greyson perked back up and hastily scribbled his number down on Sunny’s hand and let her do the same to him.
“It was nice meeting you Sunny!” He called as Sunny scrambled out of the store, forgetting to buy her wrappings, which she still had in her hand.
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