Page 38 of Coming Up Roses
FLYNN
I need to see Abi.I can’t avoid her anymore.
I’ve tried to keep our interactions limited for the past few weeks and while I feel like a douchebag doing it, I needed to put some space between us so I could try to get over the crush I have on her.
I still kick myself for turning her down, but I know in the end it’s for the best, because if we’d taken things any further, I’d have blown it all up in my face. I feel like I’m doing that anyway and it sucks.
I like Abi. I want her to be happy here and Sadie needs her, so I’m fighting all my natural instincts, which are to spend as much time with Abi as possible because I constantly want to be around her.
Instead I’m keeping my distance, because it’s better for everyone. It really, really is.
But the look on Abi’s face when I duck in and out of heroffice without lingering tugs at my heart. She almost looks … disappointed.
I shake that thought out of my head. She’s probably relieved. A bit of space from the beach make out and she’ll have realised it was a mistake for us to go there.
I kick dirt off my boots and head towards the door to the function centre.
We’re hosting a massive wedding tomorrow, the biggest we’ve had here at Wildflower Ridge and Olivia will kill me if I don’t help out, even if it means close proximity to Abi. I can’t exactly tell Olivia why I want to limit contact.
I smooth my hair—a pointless exercise, and irrelevant, but my hand does it anyway—and step through the door.
What the fuck?
Tables are set up all over the room and laid out across every one are roses. So many roses, in the deepest red and crispest white. They’re gorgeous, but no more than the woman standing in the middle of it all, her hand tangled in her hair as she stares down at the flowers before her.
She takes a breath, frees her hand from the spill of her dark hair and picks up a flower.
“Let’s do this,” she mutters, then under her breath starts singing ‘Every Rose Has Its Thorn’. I cross my arms and lean against the doorframe, waiting for her to glance up and notice me. She doesn’t, instead her voice and enthusiasm rises as she gets into the chorus of the song.
“Need a hand?” I call across the room when it’s clear she still has no idea I’m standing here.
She shrieks and presses her hand to her chest, the other one still clutching a rose stem. “Holy shit.”
I grin. “I’d apologise, but it was funny, so I’m not going to.”
She stares at me incredulously, then giggles. She slaps a hand over her mouth, cutting off the sound immediately, but I still heard it. I can still see her cheeks turn pink above the edge of her palm, still pressed over her mouth.
Oh my god. The distance hasn’t helped.
One look at that blush and I’m back on the beach, her face pressed against my neck, her cheeks that same delicious rosy colour.
“What the hell is going on in here?” I ask, stepping into the room, careful not to knock any of the tables.
Letting out a groan, Abigail slumps into a chair beside the closest table. “They were supposed to come prepared.” She drops her head into her hands. “Wildflower Ridge’s biggest event ever and I’ve fucked it up already.”
“Did you order them to come prepared?” I ask, stepping closer and dropping into a crouch when I’m in front of her. She looks one second away from a full-fledged meltdown, not that I’d blame her with the sheer number of flowers currently in this room.
“Yeah, prepared, fully arranged in vases, the whole shebang. But it doesn’t matter, because they aren’t.”
“So, it’s not your fault.”
“Not sure the bride and groom are going to see it that way. You’ve heard what they’re like.”
“Super loaded, super fussy.”
She shoots a finger gun in my direction. “Got it in one.”
A phone chimes and Abi looks at me. I shake my head. “Not mine.” I pull it out of my pocket and show her the blank screen. Because apparently being near her has made me awkward as fuck. Go me.
