Page 19 of Heartless Pucker in Love

“Because you thought you were better than me, that’s why.”

My jaw slackened. What? That was the most ridiculous and untrue thing I’d ever heard. Why would he think that? How did we even get to this? Why on Earth were we arguing like we meant something to each other? “That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s the truth.” He shrugged. “So, I teased you a little to knock you off your high horse.”

“A little?”

“Hey, I recall you being equally vicious, if not more, Flower Child.”

I pointed a finger at him and glowered. “Call me that one more time…”

He lifted a brow. “Would you rather I call you Hippie?”

Grinding my molars, I reined in my temper. If he wasn’t already injured, I probably would have thrown something at him. Damn him! He always drove me to this. He opened his mouth or even looked at me, and I’d lose my shit. It wasn’t just because he made me face emotion I’d rather keep away either. It had a lot to do with me stupidly crushing on him since that first day of kindergarten when he held my hand and told me I’d be okay.

I’d been a confused, emotional five-year-old because even at my age, I knew things at home were going to shit with my parents fighting all the time. Julian thought I was crying because I was scared about my first day at school. The real source of my fear was the precariousness of my home life. He had no idea the comfort that hand and those sweet words brought me. I thought he was the cutest, sweetest boy ever...until he made other friends and became a complete asshole.

My shoulders sagged. Hippie. I’d heard that so many times. It wasn’t the words, it was the way the other kids said them and laughed after. “Call me whatever you like, you’re certainly paying me enough to. Besides, it wouldn’t be the worst thing you’ve ever done to me.” Nothing he chose to call me could ever compare to the broken heart he left me with on prom night.

He held my angry gaze for a while, the smirk fading from his lips. He shuffled forward, winced, and gingerly stood up. “Look, April about that night, I?”

“Doesn’t matter now.” I forced out a smile, remembering why I was there. To do a job because the money was great, nothing more, nothing less. “Call me if you need me. If not, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“April…”

I made my escape and closed the door before I did anything foolish like tear up in front of him. As I scurried to my room, I couldn’t help thinking how crazy it was for a boy to break a girl’s heart when they weren't even in a relationship.

10

APRIL

Ten years earlier…

“Oh, my gosh. Oh, my gosh,” I squealed when I opened my locker and saw another flower. Lips pursed, I looked around to see if I’d drawn any attention. The last thing I wanted was to give people any more reasons to think I was weird. Taking my excitement down a notch, I returned my attention to my latest gift. It was a pink lotus. I loved lotuses. They grew in the pond at Oakland Park. I was always fascinated with how the flower floated on top of the dirty water, standing out like a rare beauty. My secret admirer knew all of my favorite flowers. The fact that he had to break into my locker to get them in there aside, I was touched. If he knew all my favorite flowers, that meant he’d been watching me for a while. Not creepy at all in this case. It was so romantic.

I glanced over both shoulders again and picked up the piece of white paper that sat beneath the flower. A note was always left with the sweet gift. This had been going on for two weeks now, and I was already in love with my secret admirer. He seemed to know me so well. A guy that paid attention was a plus—so I’ve heard from some of the girls that chatted about their boyfriends. I wouldn’t know. My eighteenth birthday was in a month, just one day after prom, and I’d never had a boyfriend. Having one never appealed to me until I started getting the notes.

Heart pounding, I read the short message:

Flower Child,

I gasped. Wait a minute. There was only one person who called me that. Surely, it couldn’t be Julian. We butted heads at every turn. There was no way he had the hots for me. He could be such a jerk sometimes; yet, he was so gorgeous with his blonde, blue-eyed good looks. He wasn’t one of the popular jocks but all the girls still swooned when he walked past. There was just something about brooding, bad boys in leather jackets who sped around on motorcycles, I guess. He was disgustingly cool. The epitome of the guys my mother demanded her daughters stay away from.

“No way, it’s him,” I muttered and read on.

You must know who I am by now. Who else knows all your favorite colors and flowers? Who else gave you such a cool nickname?

I gasped again. Julian. I could imagine the lazy grin on his face and the spark of humor in his pretty blues as he wrote the note.

That’s right, babe. It’s me, Julian. I’m your secret admirer.

It didn’t even annoy me that he called me babe like he did all the girls. “He called me babe, oh my gosh.” What was happening? It was like I was living in an alternate universe where quirky, awkward April got the cool guy’s attention as if she was one of the cheerleaders.

I think it’s time we stop fighting and start loving, don’t you? I decided to reveal my identity because I want to ask you to prom.

Will you go to prom with me, Flower Child?

Now that I knew he was into me, I was cool with the nickname. It was like our thing now. I gazed at the note, wondering how’d he get my answer. Then I felt eyes on me. It set off a series of strange sensations. The back of my neck prickled, and a delightful chill ran through me...or heat, rather. I felt hot, and my abdominal muscles clenched. I slowly turned around and my breath was knocked from my lungs. Julian stood further down the hall, arms folded. He leaned against his locker. He was dressed in his usual leather jacket, and he had his helmet hanging from a finger. His head was slightly tilted as his eyes practically penetrated me. He was looking at me funny, kind of like he was seeing me for the first time or something. I gulped, clutched the flower and note to my chest and smiled.

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