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Indiana summers had a tendency towards oppression. Yeah, maybe Southern folks would complain that they had it worse, but summer was summer, and humidity had decided to join hands with the heat and soar to heights unknown.
Eddie Munson was seriously considering putting on the one pair of shorts he owned, baring his vampire skin to the world at large. Even in the trailer, the window AC on full blast, it was horrible. He envied Chrissy, lying across his bed in a light sundress, and wondered how many charisma points he would lose if he got hot enough to buy one of his own.
(It was even too hot to cuddle, and that was the greatest tragedy of them all.)
Chrissy rolled over with a sigh, pressing her face into his pillow. “Hot,” came her muffled voice.
“No, really,” Eddie mumbled, running a gentle hand down her back.
“Gonna die.”
“Are not,” he countered, eyes still scanning the book he held in his lap, though he was half-wondering if the ink was going to melt off the page soon.
“Die just to spite you,” came the stubborn reply.
“Uh, rude.” He switched from rubbing her back to poking her in the side. “No dying allowed.”
A huge, melodramatic sigh made his bed creak. Then, scaring him, Chrissy bounced up, eyes alight with an idea.
“Let’s get Slurpees!”
First taking a moment to readjust, pretending he hadn’t almost fallen off the bed, Eddie fixed her with his best questioning eyebrow. “Am I not sweet enough for you?”
Chrissy rolled her eyes. “To cool us off, Eddie. And we can turn the AC on full blast in your car.”
It was a tempting prospect. And while Eddie did usually prefer lying on his bed with his gorgeous cheerleader girlfriend (even if she insisted on playing her god-awful ABBA music) to getting cheap ice slathered in syrup, his hair was clumping in the heat, and they needed to do something to cool down. He’d already made up his mind to go, but then Chrissy leaned up and stared into his eyes and whispered “please?” and what was going on where was he again?
Blue eyes. Blue eyes very pretty. Kiss pretty girl.
Yeah, the heat was definitely getting to him.
“Sounds good to me,” he managed, his voice only cracking once. Chrissy’s face moved closer to his and he closed his eyes, already smiling, only to realize that she was reaching across him to grab his keys. He briefly considered death. Chrissy, undeterred, dropped the keys in his hand and rolled off the bed, already tugging at his fingers.
“Sugar awaits!” she chirped, grinning back at him.
Pretty.
Stupid heat.
As it turned out, Chrissy Cunningham was about three times cuter with a huge blue Slurpee in her hands, lips stained with bright color, feet dangling off the back of his van. He kicked his legs, watching her chatter and giggle and down huge quantities of Slurpee. His own drink was starting to melt, but so was his brain, and he wasn’t sure what was wrong with him, and why Chrissy’s usual loveliness seemed amplified enough to blow him across the parking lot, Marty McFly-style.
He tuned back in just as she turned to him, pouting, straw still in her mouth. Half of her monstrous drink was already gone. Were her eyes wider than usual?
“You’re so pretty, Eddie,” she sighed, looping her arm through his and squeezing.
Uh.
“Thanks,” he stammered, wondering if he could blame his blush on sunburn. He settled for looking away and taking a long sip of his drink, giving himself brain freeze, but not putting out the flames blazing across his face. It was not a good time. He considered death again.
“Ahhhh, I feel so much cooler now, don’t you?” Setting aside the Slurpee (okay, how had she drunk the last of it already?) she twined her fingers through Eddie’s and began playing with his rings, scooting closer and kissing his shoulder. “Thanks for taking me out. You make everything more fun.”
Eddie wondered how many mental breakdowns the human brain could take.
Now, look, it wasn’t as if Chrissy never praised him, or touched him, or did any of the things a sweet girlfriend would do. Eddie knew that whatever witchcraft she was doing to him was probably a result of the stupid heat making his mind go all loopy and the sheer amount of sugar she’d consumed in the last ten minutes. But realizing that didn’t keep his breath from catching when she started pressing the gentlest of kisses to his knuckles, working the rings off his fingers so she could reach every inch of skin. He almost wanted to cry when she took his other hand in hers and started doing the same thing. His rings lay littered between them and sunlight was turning her hair into gold.
He thought sugar highs were supposed to make people bounce off the walls.
But here Chrissy was, lovestruck and gentle, turning him into mush and defeating any attempt he’d made to cool off, because his heart was beating so fast it felt dangerous, and the sun was only adding to the heat spreading through his whole body.
So he did the only thing he could think to do, kissing the top of her head, then raising her face to his and kissing the blue off her lips until she giggled.
“No more sugar for you,” he breathed, fingers tracing across her shoulders, trying not to focus too hard on the small, gentle hands resting against his hips, because he’d already gone crazy enough.
“I thought we were trying to cool off,” she replied, nudging his forehead with hers, eyes blue and pretty and everything he loved.
“Overrated idea,” Eddie teased, and guided her mouth back to his.