He lifted an arm, sniffing himself, and I made no attempt to hidemy disgust. “Yeah, I do. Okay, I’ll see you later at B&B.”
And he hurried off to the bathroom, patting me on the shoulder ashe went. I eyed the glass he had left on the table, along with the empty paperwrapper from his sandwich, and I shook my head. I glared down at the floor,eyeing the little blue-eyed cat we had adopted together and whispered, “Don’tworry. He just gave me all the motivation to take shit out onhimtoday.”
I finished my sandwich in silence and wondered what to do aboutNate, or if I should even do anything at all. I picked up the wrappers andglasses and I walked into the kitchen, only to find my vase filled with freshdaisies.
And just like that, I was happy, and I smiled at the flowers.
Some things follow us throughout our lives, as though they werestitched into our souls from birth. Daisies were one of mine.
Daisies brought me happiness, and peace. They brought me to timesin my youth when things were good, when things wereokay, and theybrought me to hundreds of times in my adulthood when Devin had bought them forme. To make me happy, to calm a dark mood, to fill the apartment with sunshineand goodness, because you can’t stay sad around daisies.
And I couldn’t stay sad around Devin.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Devin
Black & Brewed wasour love child. Mylearned craftsmanship and eye for carpentry aesthetics, coupled with her loveof the various mediums of art, all mellowed out with a brooding ambiance,artisan teas and coffees.
Ittook us two years to turn the place into our conjoined vision, and we had doneit all without killing each other. If anything said we were perfect together,that was it. Our dynamic was solid, and even when we were disagreeing aboutwhether to put slate or ceramic tile down in the bathroom, we could do itwithout wielding knives.
Iwaspretty certainI’d lose my mind if I were ever tolose that.
“Ohlook. It’s Devin,” Brooke said dryly as I walked in, turning her head from thetable she was busy wiping down.
“Ohlook. It’s the muse behind my next song,” I replied, setting my duffel bag andguitar on the floor.
Herhead of platinum blonde hair lifted, and her eyes widened with surprise.“You’re writing a song for me?”
“Ohyeah,” I said, narrowing my eyes, staring off toward the exposed beams alongthe ceiling. “It’s called, ‘Penis and Peroxide.’”
Brookegroaned, dramatically rolling her eyes as she dropped her head back down tolook at the table. “Why must you be such a dick?”
“It’sa nice song, I swear. It’s just a tribute to your favorite pastime and haircolor.”
“I’mgonnatell Trent you say this shit to me, and thenhe’s going to disown you,” she said, scrubbing furiously.
Igasped and flattened my palms over my heart. “He wouldnever!”
Kylieentered the room, wiping her hands on her apron. “Do youreallyhave totorture her?”
“She’sjust so easy,” I responded, shrugging apologetically as I turned back to theagitated Brooke. “Whichmightbe why Trent’s with her in the first place...”
“Dammit,Devin!” Brooke’s voice was shrill, and her now thrown back head, told me shewas two seconds away from shoving a broomstick up my ass.
Thatwas my cue to leave her alone. Until next time. “So. How’ve things been here?”I asked, looking between Kylie and the angry Brooke.
Brookestood up tall, cocking her head at Kylie. “Well, our favorite purple-headedslut shamelessly flirted with a very married cop earlier …”
Ilaughed. “You need to cut that shit out. His wife is going to kill you oneday.”
Kyliesighed, clutching her hands over her heart. “I can’t help it. He’s so hot.” Shehad been pining over the guy since we first walked into town, and I stillhadn’t gotten used to the jealous tick in my heart. “Besides, it’s innocent—hiswife knows that. She also knows that he flirts back.”
“Uh,he doesn’t flirt with you,” Brooke said, shaking her head.
“Sure,he does.”
“I’mpretty sure he thinks you’re delusional.” Brooke tossed her gaze at me andpleaded for backup with her eyes.
