“Right,” Selene agrees with a sharp nod.

“I thought we’d have love figured out by now,” I confess. “Others we know around our age are married and with kids.” The vodka seems to have been my own personal truth serum.

“Everyone goes at their own pace, I think,” Selene says, gazing longingly through the front window of the shop. “I want to focus on my career and what I truly want from it before looking for someone to share my life with. Growing up the way I did makes you hesitant to rely on anyone other than yourself.”

I don’t press her on her meaning. I know Selene doesn’t want to work for me forever. She’s a writer, and words are her life, but the thought of coming to the shop every day and not seeing her bright blue eyes, blonde hair, and thousand-watt smile is depressing. I don’t even want to venture down that road right now.

“As you should.” Julianna places her hand over Selene’s.

“Agreed.” I smile, finishing off the rest of my tea before it gets cold.

“It sounds like you have it figured out, though, Charleigh,” Julianna says, eyeing me across the gap between our respective seats. “I think?”

A shiver makes its way down my neck at the memory of Asher tracing my collarbone this morning. “Maybe. I hope.”

Julianna quirks a brow as the corner of her mouth curls. “Now, the real question is, was I right earlier?”

“Right about what?”

“About you riding his dick.”

“Oh, my God.” I groan, tossing the single flower I’ve been holding back into the bucket with the others. I roll my eyes but square them back on my best friends. My heart races and my cheeks heat. “But the answer is yes.”

“I knew it, you slut.” Julianna points at me, and the three of us erupt into laughter.

The sun hasn’t quite set all the way. The orange glow pours into my shop, highlighting my flowers in the best possible light. It warms my soul. I check my phone. Still no message from Asher.

“Oh, shit.” Selene pops up from Julianna’s shoulder and quickly checks her phone before bouncing off the table.

“What is it?” I ask, surprised at her sudden change of mood.

“I forgot I promised my grandmother I’d visit her before visiting hours were over at the hospital.” She turns to me, her shoulders dropping. “I’m so sorry. Do you need anything else here?”

“No.” I wave her off, hoping off the checkout desk. I point to the backroom where there are remnants of dissected flowers everywhere. “Of course, you go right ahead. I’ll clean the rest of this up.”

“I’ll go with you, Selene,” Julianna says, grabbing her cardigan from where she tossed it earlier. “I have an appointment with a caterer at my place in an hour, anyway. He’s bringing over a shit ton of samples for my party.”

I give each of my best friend’s a hug and thank them immensely for their help today. Once they’re gone, I send an email over to my client, letting him know all the flowers for his daughter’s sweet sixteenth were saved. I breathe a sigh of relief, thankful to salvage my reputation in this city. I hardly ever dare look at the reviews onGoogle,but it’s a necessary evil. The last thing I’d want is someone saying I allowed all their flowers to die, ruining their event.

Because as much as humans don’t realize, in moments of celebrations and mourning, the little things mean the most.

I linger in the back room, ready to start my massive clean-up operation, when two arms wrap around my waist. I fall backagainst a hard wall of muscle and immediately feel him tower over me. His mouth hits my ear and, fuck, my stomach is doing that fluttering thing again.

“Don’t clean up just yet, Little Flower.”

“Asher.” His name falls from my mouth, soft and hushed. All I’ve wanted to do is tell him how grateful I am for what he did with the hotel, but he stops me.

“I know.” His mouth touches the hollow of my ear, and his voice vibrates down the length of my body.

I’m already wet for him again.

I turn around in his arms, pressing my hands to his hard chest. Tilting my chin up, I stare into his eyes. “No. I need to tell you. Thank you doesn’t begin to cover how grateful I am for what you did today. You truly saved me from losing this client.”

He tucks my hair behind my ear. “Seriously, Charleigh. I’m just sorry I wasn’t here sooner to help you. I got stuck in a few meetings, but I tried.” Sadness flickers in his expression, though it’s gone before I’m even certain I’ve seen it.

I laugh and tilt my head back. “Will you just accept my offer of gratitude?”

His face falls, and he studies mine as if he can’t believe I’m standing in front of him.