I grin impishly at her as I come to lean beside her. “I have my ways.”
She tries to hide her smile, but I catch it.
“You have any roommates?”
She shakes her head. “No, it’s just me.” She seems to stumble over that last word but quickly recovers, yanking open a drawer with a clatter.
She lays out my flowers on the table and starts cutting off the ends with a pair of scissors.
Did I even plan what I wanted to say to her when I saw her? Or was I just hoping that she’d jump into my arms as soon as I walked through the door?
“I haven’t stopped thinking about the wedding,” my mouth says before my brain can catch up.
She jumps with a gasp. “Shit,” she hisses, holding her hand. “Ow.”
Concerned, I step forward and gently tug her hand free. “Let me see.” I rotate her hand, a small bead of blood visible on the tip of her index. Without thinking I raise her finger to my lips and kiss away the pain.
Her finger is warm under my lips, reminding me of the last time I kissed her skin. She blinks up at me until I finally let go, the taste of her blood in my mouth singing to me like I’m a vampire and she’s my muse.
She yanks her hand away and rushes to the sink. Turning the faucet on she says quietly, “I’m such a mess.”
“You’re not a mess, pretty girl. I’m just a very overwhelming person.”
She laughs under her breath.
“Bandaid?” I ask.
“Bottom drawer.” She gestures with her chin.
I rummage around until I find a little box of bandaids, slipping one out and spinning her towards me. Gently, I wrap it around her finger, and I can’t help pressing a final kiss to her wound. When I look up, we’re much closer than anticipated. I can almost count her eyelashes.
“Jackson,” she whispers.
“I should probably go,” I say reluctantly. I’ve barged into this woman’s home, made her cry, wounded her with my flowers and essentially sucked her blood. Overwhelming indeed.
“Oh,” she says, taking a step back and not looking at me. “Yeah okay.”
“Can I get your number, pretty girl?”
Her head snaps up. “Don’t call me that,” she says reflexively as if I haven’t said it multiple times today.
I bite my lip. “Can I get your number, Rosie? Please?” I add on the end.
She nods. “Yeah, yes. That’s a good idea.” She says it formally, like this is suddenly a business transaction. “One second.”
Rosie darts through the door I presume leads to a living room and returns a moment later with her phone. “Put yours in here too so I have it.”
I dutifully take her phone and send myself a text before saving my number in her contacts.
“Can I call you?” I ask as I hand it back.
She tucks it in the pocket of her sweatshirt. “Yeah, we should meet up. To, uh, to talk.”
I nod my head. “Talk. I’d like that.”
She doesn’t say anything else, instead wraps her hand around her bandaged finger. “Okay, well.”
“Yeah, I’m leaving, I’m leaving.” I lift my hands up.
