Page 95 of When Wildflowers Bloom

He chuckles, takes one hit as his eyes stay hooked on mine, and says, “Wow,” tightly out of the side of his mouth. His exhale is smooth and controlled, like a villain on TV would do, with a slight cough that he makes look cool. Like I just watched his mouth make love to that joint.

As someone who never went through a bad-girl phase or did anything remotely considered dangerous, somehow, Bo smoking pot is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever witnessed.

“If I ever get cancer, I’m doing this every day,” I say dreamily, staring at him.

Veda takes a sharp inhale next to me, and Bo’s eyes narrow as he takes another smooth hit before smashing it out in a piece of Veda’s pottery.

I open my mouth, weed-lubricated enough to confess everything, but Veda intercepts with a clipped, “Don’t be so dramatic, Birdie!” She pins me with an angry stoned look. “You know all it takes is arthritis to get you high.”

“They gave you this for arthritis?” Bo asks incredulously with a small laugh.

My nervous eyes tunnel to her narrowed ones for a split second. Then, as if she doesn’t have secret cancer, a loud cackle steals the moment.Hercackle. She laughs so long and loud it turns quiet, wheezy, and tear-filled.

“Get it, Birdie?” she says, giggling.

I don’t get it at all, which is apparently hilarious, because whatever I start to say next comes out like a snort. I laugh so hard my stomach aches like I spent three hours doing crunches. I bend over in my chair, wheezing, tears dripping down my face.

“Bo, I—Bo, I—B—” I can’t complete a sentence through my cackle-filled gasps. What I want to say to him, I have no clue, but even his name is too funny to finish.

He shakes his head, amused look on his handsome face as his hair falls to the front of his ears.

I want to touch him.

My laughing turns abruptly to silent staring. He’s wearing a thick flannel today and he looks like a cozy fireplace on a chilly night that I’d like to jump inside of.

Then I wonder.

What if…

What if the reason that everything happened in my life, and all the Birdie Roses before me, was because I was meant to know Bo now? A plan that had been set into motion generations before. Maybe with the first people.

What if the universe did this in collusion with the moon and sun and sta—

“Birdie?”

I shake my head, Bo kneeling in front of me with a smirk on his lips.

“Sorry.” I push my heavy eyes open wider. “I didn’t hear you.”

He chuckles, tucking loose strands of hair behind my ears. “How far away did you fly?”

I hum out a laugh. Because far.

He rubs a palm on the side of my face, and I lean into it. His hand is my favorite pillow.

“You okay?”

“I accidentally got high with Gran.” I close my eyes, rubbing my cheek against his callused palm.

His chest rumbles with a laugh as he leans forward, whispering, “I love you,” in my ear.

I don’t know if it’s the weed or his words, but my heart becomes a warm fountain spreading heat through my entire body.

His warmth is contagious.

I look at him, his lips, and lick my own.

He’s just so perf—

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