Page 50 of Four Simple Rules
She snorts. “Eh, it’s only been a few hours. I probably won’t hear from them for a while. If at all.” She shrugs, looking down at the table and retracing the patterns on the wood.
“Sounds like it would be pretty cool, like your last gig.” As I drink my hot coffee, I watch her closely, noting the tension building in her shoulders as they rise.
“Maybe,” she says uncertainly, smiling at the server when they drop off our hot sandwiches. “I’m just going to wait to really think about it until after the reunion this weekend.”
My heart skips a beat. Right. We still have to go to that. My buddy, Rhett from high school, has texted me a few times, confirming I’m going. He’s the only person I’m excited to kick back with. Not that we haven’t seen each other here and there since we left high school. Through the pain of the shit, I went through, he’s the only person who has shown up for me. And I’d like to say I’ve done the same. We’ve both been busy with our careers, like adults do, and have had little time for each other lately.
“Right. Are you ready for that? Is your friend Olivia coming?” Something tells me she is. Rhett’s been pretty fucking weird these past few weeks, mentioning something about her working in his office. What we did to her in high school always weighed heavily on his mind. Mine, too. So, it’d be nice to squash the past with her, too. And apologize for whatever my dumbass teenage self-did.
“She is. I haven’t seen her in a long time. We’ve both been super busy with work; we haven’t had the chance to catch up.” She shrugs. “We video chat from time to time.” Good. At least she’s had Olivia to help her navigate her adult life.
“And now you will, Tulip,” I say, biting into my shredded chicken sandwich, groaning at the taste. “This used to be my favorite spot to come to after classes. A few friends and I would sit around here, have coffee, and study.”
“You? Study?” she quips, giggling when she bites into her sandwich.
“Don’t laugh at me,” I chuckle, tossing a chip at her. “I buckled down when I got to college and worked my ass off.”
She snorts. “What a difference from when you crawled through my window and begged me to do your homework.”
I groan, running a hand down my face. “Oh God, I forgot I did that. Forgive me, Tulip. I was a dickwad.”
“Yes, you were,” she says with a small smile. “But for some reason, I still liked you.” I grin, staring over at her as she digs into her sandwich with zest, moaning over the flavor.
“Even still?” I raise my brow when she stops mid-chew.
“Maybe more,” she breathes, taking another bite and ending the conversation.
For the rest of the day, Blake and I explore the town I made my home in. We walk, hand in hand, down the street, stopping in store after store.
“Oh! A little flower shop,” she says, tugging my hand as we walk into the tiny corner flower shop with a green exterior, aptly named Tulip Blossoms—how fitting for my little Tulip.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been in here before.” Fact. I avoided this place like the plague whenever I walked by it. The flowers in the windows and the expansive greenhouse at the back of the building reminded me too much of the girl I purposefully pushed away. Not to mention the name etched into wood, hanging above the door with colorful tulips. It was too much. And now, I’m entering for the first time with the very girl I thought of each time I saw its name.
“It’s so cute,” she says with a grin, running her fingers along the different assortments of flowers on display.
As we walk through, the owner rests behind the wooden counter, watching us with tired eyes sitting behind large, framed glasses. Her gray hair rests in a messy bun on the top of her head and flops whenever she moves. Offering us a soft smile, she leans on her elbows, watching us with interest.
“If you folks need any help, please let me know.”
“It’s so pretty in here,” Blake gushes, bringing life back to her eyes. “It reminds me of the shop I worked at in college.”
The owner offers her a bigger smile. “You must love flowers, then?” she asks with curiosity.
“You have no idea,” I quip, plucking a bouquet of pink and white tulips out of a bucket with a grin. Waltzing through the isles, I keep my eyes on Blake, practically cumming in her pants at the sight of all the plants. That’s my girl. “You should have seen her room growing up. Peace Lily, ferns, and other plants I can’t name.” Heat blazes through me when my gaze lands on Blake, staring at me with a cocked head. I grin, placing the flowers on the counter. “That’s all for me, thank you.” I politely smile at the owner, whose name tag reads Deloris, as she starts the check-out process.
“You remember their names?” she asks slowly as I take my card out of my pocket and give it to the cashier.
“Yeah?” I ask in confusion. “I remember everything about you, Tulip.” My brows draw together when Blake jumps forward and kisses my cheek just as I take the flowers from the cashier. “Thank you,” I breathe, unsure who I’m directing it at. Mostly Blake. That kiss means everything to me. The warmth lingers on my cheek as a reminder.
“Thank you for stopping by. I'm selling this place next month if you’re ever looking for another flower shop opportunity. Flowers and all.” My eyes dart to Blake, who stiffens and thanks Deloris with a soft smile. Something works through her mind when she walks beside me, furrowing her brows.
Blake doesn’t say a word when we exit onto the sidewalk, walking back toward campus. I wrap my arm around her shoulder and hand her the flowers with a grin.
“Tulips for my tulip,” I murmur, kissing her temple.
“I love them.”
“Much better as real ones, right?” I quip, thinking back to the time when I was a kid and had mistaken the stupid weed for a tulip.
