Page 9 of Beneath the Midnight Sky
“I don’t know why you won’t just move in and share this big ass place with me, Aspen. We could be roommates and save both of us some money.” She’d pulled up this argument basically a million times over the last few months. She knew about my ex, but she didn’t fully comprehend how dangerous he was. I was always terrified that he’d find me and hurt anyone attached to me. If we lived together, that was a lot more likely, and I couldn’t do that to her.
I forced a smile onto my face. “Ahhh, yes, but then I’d drive you insane, and you wouldn’t want to be my best friend anymore. That simply wouldn’t do for me. Who else would keep me company and make sure I ate?”
Ivy shook her head. She knew by this point in our relationship that I was making up excuses, but she let it go and didn’t press it anymore.
Ivy had finished gettingready for work and then dropped me off back at my apartment on her way in. Dragging my ass up the steps to my apartment, all I could think about was more coffee in my future, but a vase full of flowers stopped me dead in my tracks.
It was a bouquet of daisies.
My mind immediately jumped to the worst-case scenario—did he find me? Was this his way of telling me he was here? No. No. No. I forced myself to release the air in my lungs slowly through my nose. He didn’t find me. There was no way he found me.
I took another deep breath and calmly reminded myself that the man had never bought me flowers in the five years we’d spent together. I didn’t think he’d start now that I’d left. Unless it was to scare me, which would absolutely be like him.
Okay, Aspen. No sense in having a full-on panic attack in the hallway, I told myself. Just pick up the vase and take it inside. We could panic inside. Maybe there was even a note, and we could panic some more. Inside the apartment, though, where there weren’t prying eyes. An open space where the neighbors could walk by and stand in the front row to the panic attack that was about to ensue didn’t sound like my cup of tea at all.
I forced myself to take one more deep breath before scooping up the bouquet, unlocking the door, and rushing inside of my apartment. I set it down carefully on my kitchen counter and backed away—as if there were secretly a bomb inside the vase,ready to take me out at any moment. Clearly, I wasn’t in the right state of mind here.
“Okay, now what, Aspen?” I asked myself. “For starters, I stop talking to myself.” I rolled my eyes at my absolute ridiculousness right now.
Shower first, maybe? No. I had to read the note. I couldn’t possibly leave the flowers just sitting here if they were from Sam. Hell, I couldn’t even stay here if they were from Sam. I slowly walked back over toward the offensive flowers and pulled the card off the vase.
Written in rough masculine handwriting?—
It was nice to hear your voice, little angel. I can’t wait to hear what other noises you can make.
What in the fuck did that—Rowan. The memory instantly snapped into place from the night before.“Anytime, little angel. Anytime.”
How in the fuck did he know where I lived? Okay. Don’t panic. Logic. It’s a small town. He could’ve just asked someone and wanted to be nice. But the note? That was…intense.
I took a picture of the flowers and the note and sent them over to Ivy.
Ivy: What and the hell? Who are they from?
Me: Rowan apparently. I’m assuming, of course, since there isn’t a name. But he called me little angel last night.
Ivy: Ohhh. That makes sense. He probably asked Damien where you lived. They’ve been friends for years.
I sat down on my couch and stared at the ceiling for a moment. Well, that would make a lot more sense than him asking random people on the street. At least he wasn’t stalking me. He just asked his friend and was trying to be sweet. Maybe he was trying to make me feel less awkward about the entire encounter.
Me: Well, isn’t that just romantic.
Ivy: It seems like he likes what he sees, boo! But if you don’t, just tell him to back off. I can send you his contact info. It’s important to create strong boundaries with any new boyfriend.
I did not need that man’s number. He was way too good-looking for me to have access like that. It was like handing a beer to a recovering alcoholic—too much temptation. I started to type back a solid and resoundingno, and then another text came in.
It was his contact info. Fantastic.
Me: You’re an instigator to the extreme!!!!
Me: Also, he isn’t my boyfriend!
Ivy: Love you! See you tonight!
Fuck me.Why did I always attract the crazy ones? I took a deep breath and started typing out a message to him. Hopefully, he’d take the hint, and this would all blow over.
Me: Hey, Rowan. It’s Aspen, ya know? From the bar last night. Ivy sent me your number—hope that’s not weird. But honestly, you sent me flowers to my apartment without me even telling you my name, so I feel as if I should get a pass. Anyway, I wanted to say thank you for the flowers. But I’m going to pass on whatever it was you’re talking about. But thank you. Again.
Perfect. No big deal. No hard feelings. Easy. Done. Sent.
