Page 74 of From Nowhere

“He pooped!” Lola yells. “Good job, Bandit!”

Ozzy sighs, resting his forehead against mine. “I’m never going to have sex again.”

I shake with suppressed laughter.

“Butyoushould,” he says. “You deserve a guy who has a future beyond vomit, poop, and penance for his past.”

My hands frame his stubble-covered face. “Ask her if she’s ready to take a bath.”

He squints at me.

“Just do it.”

Ozzy cracks open the door. “Lola, are you ready for your bath?”

“No! It hasn’t been that long. You said twenty-five minutes!” She slams her door shut.

Ozzy closes the door to the exercise room. Then I push his chest until his back hits it.

He lifts a single brow. “What are you—”

“Sit.”

“On the floor?”

I nod.

He slides down the door, and it makes me giggle because it’ssoslow. When his butt touches the floor, he stretches out his legs, and I straddle them and sit on his lap.

“You make me feel sixteen,” I say wrapping my arms around his neck. “Nervous. Shaky. Shivers down my spine. And don’t even get me started on butterflies.”

Ozzy wets his lips, rubbing them together. “We’re adults hiding from a ten-year-old. You left through my window after said ten-year-old puked.Thatgives you butterflies?”

I smile, brushing my nose against his. “What’s the next flower? Or vegetable? It’s asparagus season.”

“I’ve created a monster.” He chuckles. “What if there are no more flowers? No more cards? Will the butterflies die?” He pecks at my lips.

I lean in for more than a peck, prolonging our tiny stolen moment. Ozzy’s hand cups the back of my neck while his tongue teases mine. He weaves his fingers into my hair.

As a young girl, I dreamed of flying in the clouds more than I thought about boys’ kisses, love notes, and flowers. Either my heart is bigger than I ever imagined, or Ozzy Laster is stealing it from my first love.

He ghosts his lips from my mouth to my ear. “I’m so unprepared for you,” he whispers.

I sigh while settling into him.

“My neighbor has them in his yard,” Ozzy says.

“Has what?” I sit up.

He leans to the side just enough to pull a piece of paper from his pocket—a folded note.

My heart can’t take this level of romance as he offers it to me with a single-shoulder shrug.

I open it.

Yarrow is a medicinal herb with delicate clusters of flowers that attract bees and butterflies. Hope you love them!

Ozzy x

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