Thirty-One
LEXIE
Iunlock the door to my apartment, struggling with the key as I juggle my laptop bag, coffee, and a stack of mail. Three days back in the real world after my weekend with the pack, and I'm still finding it hard to focus on mundane tasks. My mind keeps drifting back to candlelit dinners, laughter-filled conversations, and five pairs of hands learning every inch of my body.
Focus, Lexie.
My living room, already crowded with inventory and shipping supplies, now resembles a high-end flower shop. Bouquets of every size and description occupy every available surface. Roses in deep crimson and pale pink, exotic orchids in vibrant purples, sunflowers the size of dinner plates, and lilies giving off a scent so strong I can taste it.
I set my things down on the only clear spot left on my coffee table and pick up a card from the nearest arrangement I brought in earlier since I didn't have time to glance at it after bringing it in. It's a stunning collection of deep, dark blue hydrangeas and white roses.
Lexie, these reminded me of your eyes when you laugh. See you Friday. —Jax
My eyes? They're brown, not blue.
But then I remember how he looked at me in his bedroom when it was just the two of us, his fingers gently memorizing my skin as we talked about nothing and everything. "They change color," he'd murmured. "Brown with flecks of amber in the sun, almost like the night sky in certain light."
He noticed that. Remembered it.
I move to the next arrangement, a wild, untamed collection of native wildflowers that somehow looks both chaotic and perfectly composed.
Can't wait to see you again soon, wild thing. —Z
A smile tugs at my lips. Of course Zayn would send something unconventional.
The doorbell rings, startling me out of my thoughts. Must be Jessica. We'd planned to spend the afternoon packing orders and catching up. I navigate the botanical obstacle course to reach the door.
Instead of my sister, I find a delivery man holding yet another arrangement, this one a massive basket of cookies, chocolates, and other artisan sweets, even though I haven't even made it a quarter of the way through the homemade ones Aidan sent over.
"Delivery for Lexie Goodwin?" he says, already looking tired. "Where do you want it?"
I glance behind me at my apartment, already bursting with flowers. "Honestly? Anywhere at this point."
He gives me a sympathetic look. "Anniversary?"
"No," I say, taking the enormous basket. "It's... complicated."
"Must be," he mutters, handing me a clipboard to sign. "This is my third trip here today."
I manage to find space for the new arrival on my dining table, displacing a stack of sweaters that now join their brethren on the floor. The card reads:
I'm a hazard in the kitchen, but I didn't want Aidan to be the only one sending you sweets. Can't wait to taste you again. —Dmitri
My face warms up. Definitely glad the delivery guy didn't see the note.
I hope.
Before I can process this, my phone chimes with a text from Jessica.
JESSICA: Running 10 min late. Adam ate a crayon. Be there soon!
I text back a quick acknowledgment, then take another bewildered look around my apartment. Nearly ever surface is covered in gifts from the pack. Little signs throughout the week that they're thinking of me.
I can't help but have a flashback to my last anniversary with Mark. I'd been searching months for his gift. A vintage camera he'd been lusting after for years, but could never find. When I finally saw one come up on one of the thrift shop sites I had constantly loaded in my browser tabs, I drove an hour just to get it only to come back and hear him talking shit about me to his best friend.
"Wait, I thought you guys were getting married," Paul had said as I quietly shut the door, having seen the car in the driveway and not wanting to interrupt.
His words stopped me in my tracks, though, and Mark's reply? It gutted me.
