Page 34 of The Likelihood Of You

“Thanks, Flo,” Nate said with a quick smile, before slipping past her and sulking back onto set.

My eyes fall back on Florence, that giddy feeling I’d basked in all last night returning with vengeance. So much so that I had to drop my head and giggle like a little boy who was talking to his crush for the first time.

What on earth was wrong with me? This didn’t happen to me. I don’t think I felt this way with Darcie, not fully. Sure, I liked her, liked being around her, but butterflies and giddy smiles were something I hadn’t experienced… ever.

I could get used to it.

“Hi,” I said, looking down at her as she tried to hide her smile.

“Hi.” She replied… smiling. “I’m glad you’re here, actually… because I just wanted to apologise, again.”

I really wish she’d stop apologising for last night, and trying to reassure me that I didn’t need to help her. I wouldn’t have offered it if I didn’t want to. I wouldn’t have invited her to my place to practise if I didn’t. Little did she know by not timing her pastries, she gave me one of my favourite nights I’d had in a long time.

After Darcie left, I shut myself out from the world. While my career was blooming, I was locked away in my apartment, rotting. All because of her. When I met Florence, I’d spent so long working myself up and overthinking every move Darcie made, everything she said to trick me. I think I’d gotten to a point where I’d convinced myself that every girl on the planet who showed interest in me had an agenda, and Florence was no different.

After meeting her that day, I’d told myself repeatedly that her accent was just a spell, luring me in to trust her, and her new girl backstory was just something she’d made up on the plane ride over.

The truth that I’d had to swallow was that thiswasher. Being the candlelight in a dimly lit room was her default setting. Her gravitational pull wasn’t practised; she was born with it. A gift from the stars. Once I realised that it was too late. There was no question or doubt my mind could conjure up that could try to convince me otherwise.

Learning more about her only proved me right. That’s why I wanted to help her, because I trusted her. I believed her.

“You don’t need to apologise. Believe me. I actually wanted to ask if we could arrange another night and try it again, you know, work on that wet almond-less frangipane situation?”

She folded her arms and tightened her smile. “Okay, for one, my frangipane is to die for. And two, are you sure you want to risk your kitchen’s life again after last night?”

I dropped my head and laughed, then met her eyes a second later. “You know… I think my kitchen has had its fair share of baking disasters for one week, but I think I know somewhere else that would work.” I say, barely containing my excitement. “Are you free tonight?”

She seemed to stumble backwards when I asked that, only a little, and I watched as the green in her eyes widened.

Calling them green was such an understatement, like calling the sun yellow, an insult to its beauty. They almost seemed to be glittering, too; the glow from the stage lights that hung above us danced amongst them like stars.

I saw the hesitation in them all the same, though, that she couldn’t hide.

“Yeah… yeah, I guess I’m free.” She said, her cheeks being painted that shade of red that made them look like apples, the gold locket thatwas practically one of her features glittering like her eyes, and her nose scrunching as her lashes fanned me.

The definition of adorable, basically.

“Great, I’ll swing by your place around six… is that okay?”

“More than okay.” She whispered, but I don’t think she meant to, nor did I think she meant for her mouth to remain gaped after the words stopped coming out of her. She caught herself though, and straightened her posture, shaking her head slightly and sucking in a breath. “Yeah… six sounds great. I… um… I better get back to-” she pointed her thumb behind her shoulder. “-my job. But I’ll see you tonight!” She sang before spinning on the heels of high tops, her hair whipping around her, sending a gust of sweet spice and wood my way from whatever she was wearing, and walking away.

I bathed in the sight of her as she did, being careful not to let my gaze plummet and flat-out stare at the roundness of her ass in the corduroy maroon pants she’d picked out, but it was difficult not to, especially because of how it bounced from the spring in her step.

Jesus, whatwaswrong with me?

Seven months ago, I’d put myself on a dating ban with every girl who walked past me; now, I was in a staring competition with the ass of the girl who nearly set my kitchen on fire while also making me think I was ready to tell her how I feel.

And perhaps I am.

I just need to do it in a way she’ll be comfortable with. A relaxed way. A way that doesn’t want to make her hail the nearest cab, head straight to JFK and catch the next flight back home.

Right then, I felt the giddy butterflies flee in terror, and make way for the anxious ones.

I knew Nate was smart for buying two of those egg chairs.

Chapter thirteen

Jacob

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