I feel terrible. If we hadn’t had sex in the forest, she wouldn’t have this problem. The only upside is that I don’t have to make excuses as to why she can’t come to this fundraiser with me. Any other time I’d want her there for bunny cover—and because she’s awesome—but since I want to pick the dude’s brain who’s running it, and it pertains to a venture I’m hoping might eventually include Sunny, the poison ivy is an unfortunate blessing.

“Maybe it’ll clear up by then.”

“In three days? I’m blistering. Do you know what happens to blisters? They turn into scabs. I’m going to be scabby. I’ll be disgusting!”

She has a point. She’s being extreme, though. “You could put makeup on it or something.”

“I don’t wear makeup. Besides, you can’t put makeup on open sores.”

I run a hand through my hair, trying to come up with a solution, even if there isn’t one. “Should we take a trip to a medical clinic?”

Her frustration softens. “They can’t do anything about it.” She sighs. “I wanted to come with you to the fundraiser, but I can’t go looking like this.”

“I still think you’re beautiful.” At least where she isn’t covered in poison ivy she’s beautiful. And on the inside.

“I look like I have a disease. Can you imagine if people took pictures and posted them on the Internet? The rumors would be awful. Neither of us needs that.”

While Sunny and I haven’t been out much in public, the few pictures of us from my weekend at her place are now hashtagged with #bunny or #thebarbieandkenofhockey. The recognition that we’re a couple is something, but the nicknames are not my favorite—and not Sunny’s either. Sunny with blisters all over her would probably be tagged with something even worse.

I pull her into a hug. “I shouldn’t have used a log as a bed.”

“You weren’t alone. I’m just as much to blame. It was fun at the time. Nature makes me horny.”

“Me too. Next time we’ll bring blankets.”

“Next time?”

“If you want there to be a next time. Otherwise we can stick to indoor sex.” Talking about sex is making me hard again. “I’m sorry your boobs are itchy.”

“Me, too.”

“I’ll bring back Calamine lotion. I’m glad it wasn’t your cookie.” I kiss the edge of her jaw.

“Oh God. Don’t even say that! We would’ve had matching damaged parts!” She pats my nuts and my semi through my shorts. “I’m so relieved everything’s almost back to normal.”

The left nut is still somewhat swollen, but it’s healing up nice. Sunny keeps patting; we stop talking and start kissing. Clothes come off—except for Sunny’s shirt. We have slow, easy sex on her sunflower comforter. If it weren’t for wanting to keep her in my life in a more permanent way, I’d blow off the fundraiser and my research mission to stay in bed with her all day.

***

Randy knocks on the bedroom door about ten minutes after I give Sunny her second orgasm. “We’re only gonna be gone a couple hours, Miller. Give your girl a break.”

Sunny lifts her head from my chest and smiles. “You should go so you can come back.”

“Good call.”

I throw on a golf shirt and a pair of shorts and fix my messed-up hair. Sunny’s curled up in bed, reading a book for one of the classes she’s taking this fall, by the time I’m ready to go. She wants to get a head start. Sunny’s a different smart—like me. The book part is tedious for her too; the part where we get to put it into action is where we shine. We’re the same in a lot of ways. I kiss her on the forehead and then the lips. She looks sad when I pull away.

“Are you okay?” I tuck a few strands of hair behind her ear.

“Just tired from all the exercise.” She stretches and puts the book down on her stomach, her grin cheeky.

As I stare down at her, a weird, unsettled feeling makes my chest clench. “I don’t have to go if you don’t want me to.”

“It’s for a good cause, so you should definitely go.” It sounds more like what she thinks I want to hear than what she wants to say. “I’m probably going to catch a nap, maybe paint my nails with Lily or something else girly so I can find out what happened last night.”

I’ll be fishing for the same information on the ride to the fundraiser. “You’re a hundred-percent sure?”

“Yup. You go do good things.”

“Okay.” I drop another kiss on her lips, slipping her a little tongue before I head for the door.

“Miller.”

I turn to find her twirling her hair around her finger. “’Sup, sweets?”

She hesitates and then asks, “There won’t be any hooker bunnies, will there?”

I come back to the bed and lie down beside her, stealing the lock of hair from between her fingers. “It’s not gonna be like one of those parties at Lance’s. It’s a fundraiser for breast cancer. I don’t know who all is gonna be there, but people will take pictures. It’s inevitable. This is where that whole trust thing comes in, Sunny. It’s a social event. I’m there to make a donation, and then I’m coming back to you, because you matter. The bunnies don’t. Can you try to keep that in mind when the pictures start rolling in?”

She nods.