Page 84 of Can't Get Enough

“Hendrix!” Soledad calls from downstairs. “I think you wanna come down.”

“I am.” I tie the robe at my waist. “Just gimme a sec.”

I start down the stairs, but halt halfway at the sight waiting below.

My living room is overflowing with roses. Huge, oversized bouquets of roses. Not pink or peach, but some soft, sweet marriage of the two colors. And the young delivery guy keeps bringing them in.

“Oh, my God.” I cover my mouth with both hands. “What is this?”

“Roses!” Soledad squeaks, bouncing on her toes.

“But where’d they all come from?” I resume my walk down the stairs slowly.

“There’s a card.” Soledad waves a tiny white envelope above her head and swings her little hips from side to side in a jig of glee.

As soon as I’m close enough, I snatch the card from her hand, playfully baring my teeth at her. “Gimme that. Mine, I believe.”

“I wanna see,” she whines. “Who sent them?”

As soon as I take it, the card feels like it’s imprinting on my hand. I don’t have to open it. I know the roses are from Maverick. My stupid heart does this floaty thing, rising to the top of my chest like a buoy and bobbing along the surface of my common sense.

“Could you sign for them?” The out-of-breath delivery guy asks once the last of them are inside the apartment.

“Sorry. Sure.” I take his pen and sign. “Just lemme grab my purse.”

“Oh, no.” He shakes his head, adamant and grinning widely. “Strict instructions not to accept any tip. Believe me. It’s taken care of.”

“Okay, well, thank you.”

“And we’ll send someone out next week to dispose of them,” he adds.

“I’ve never heard of that,” Soledad says, her nose buried in a bouquet on the kitchen counter. “I didn’t know that was a thing.”

“For the right price,” he says. “It can be.”

He gives us a little salute and leaves.

I consider the roses overtaking every clear surface in the room. I should be pissed. I told Maverick no, but does he respect my wishes? Give me the space I obviously needed? No.

And yet I’m fighting an irrepressible grin as I walk through a forest of scented petals.

“Champagne roses,” Soledad says, rubbing one of the petals between her thumb and forefinger. “Symbolizing charm and grace, but also giving rich-lady vibes.”

I stare down at the card, not wanting to see, but driven by curiosity to rip it open.

“You’re killing me, Hen,” Soledad groans. “Open the card.”

“Oh, yeah, right.” I say it like it’s not the absolute only thing on my mind. I casually slide my fingernail beneath the small flap and extract the card.

Just getting started, Gorgeous.

—Mav

Soledad snatches the card from my nerveless fingers and swiftly stutter-steps from the kitchen counter into the living room.

“Ohhh!” Soledad gasps, her wide eyes pinging from the card to my face and back again. “Mav as in Maverick Bell?”

“The one and only.” I fall onto my sectional, taking emotional support from the familiar cushions.

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