Page 33 of Final Temptation
“Yeah, it’s complicated. I’m just not ready to talk to him yet. I was just a little startled seeing him. Usually, he’s in the back in his office, so I wasn’t expecting it.”
“Can I help you two find anything today?” Sophie and I looked around, spotting an elderly woman.
I was so thrown off by her nuzzling her face into my chest, I was completely clueless that we had walked into a random shop. A shop I had never been into, as long as I’ve lived here.
How ironic. A flower shop.
Large tables sat in the middle of the shop, big tin containers separating each flower with their own kind. Each with an individual sign stating exactly what they were. Roses, carnations, lilies, lavender, willow, eucalyptus, and so many other bright-colored variations scattered around.
“Build your own bouquet” was written on an A-frame sign next to the table.
Clearly, Sophie caught on quicker than I did because she cleared her throat, speaking for both of us. “Yes! We would love to build our own bouquet.”
Uh, we what?
“Perfect! Just pick out any flowers you would like to bundle, and I can wrap them up for you when you’re all finished. If you have any questions, just let me know!”
“Thank you so much,” Sophie replied with a smile while confusion was written all over mine.
“What happened to a walk?” I leaned over and said with gritted teeth so the older woman wouldn’t hear me.
“We stumbled in here by accident.I’d hate to be rude and not buy something. Oh! We can each pick our favorite colors!” The way her face lit up made it hard to say no.
Sophie began browsing through the vases of flowers, immediately picking out one of each, her hands starting to overflow.
“Here, let me help.” I motioned for her to pass the flowers over to me.
“Do you like yellow?” she asked, smelling a sunflower.
My eyes wandered to her hair clip, and I thought about the first time we met at the coffee shop and that little yellow sundress.
“Fucking love it.”
She smiled and added the large sunflower to the overflowing collection in my arms. Moving on, she picked up some lavender, iris, and a few other colors to make a large bright bundle and greenery to fill it in.
She was a damn natural when it came to eyeballing what flowers looked good together.
“Okay, I think that does it!” She giddily walked up to the register as the woman started to take inventory of each flower we chose, ringing each one into the register.
“You made some beautiful choices. They all look so wonderful together.” Her fingers continued to click against each button as she totaled the amount. “That will be one hundred and fifteen dollars.” She smiled widely, tying a piece of twine around our bouquet wrapped in brown paper.
Uh, come again? One hundred and fucking fifteen dollars for some flowers from a shop we accidentally stumbled into in order to hide from Sophie’s dad? Jesus Christ.
Looking up at Sophie, the twinkle in her eye was hard to ignore as she looked at the cheerful color arrangement. So, instead of complaining about the price, I handed overmy card to the woman, happily paying for the most expensive bundle of flowers known to man.
I’d never purchased flowers for a girl in my whole life until I met Sophie. What was a simple gesture when I first moved in was easily something I could make a part of my routine if she looked as happy as she did now—and all it took was buying her some flowers.
Mylesand I were moving slowly when it came to our newfound agreement. As in, we weren’t jumping straight to fucking each other. I wanted to keep the tension alive while doing the best I could to protect my heart. I needed to trust that he wouldn’t take advantage of having all of me, just to follow it up by fleeing when he’d had enough.
I had to admit, though, every time Myles and I kissed, I was ready to throw all my morals out the window and rip his clothes off. The urges I had, and how horny I felt, were feelings that were impossible to bury when the guy you kissed on occasion slept in the next room over.
Myles made it a tad bit easier by being out of the house most of the time—busy with work and AA for hours on end. I hated to admit that sometimes, I anticipated him coming home just so we could spend an hour or so together before he went to bed.
Mindlessly scrolling on my phone, the TV on in the background, I pulled up my text thread with Myles.
Me: Hey, just wondering when you’ll be home tonight?
I sent the text without considering where the conversation would go. I read it again, kicking myself for soundinglike a needy roommate or, in most recent cases, a needyfriend.
