Page 10 of Flash

“You were a shining spot in a really shitty day… twice, actually.” He twists his lips and I brace for the brush off, the ‘but, let’s leave it at that.’ “But—”

Maybe he’s just not a relationship kind of guy. As much as I want to shove my cum-flavored tongue back into his mouth and demand he fish out my card from wherever he put it and fucking call me, I resist the urge. I’ve learned the hard way that forcing relationships never works. It took more than once for that lesson to sink through my thick skull, as a matter of fact. I can want until I’m blue in the face, but if there’s nothing on the other side then demands and possessiveness are going to get me fuck all.

“Got it.” I cut him off to save myself the bruised ego. “Thanks for a memorable night.” I step around him, pulling open the door and striding into the hallway.

“Arrow.” Lewis is right behind me, catching my arm before I can get far. “How would you feel about keeping things casual?” His fingers dig into my forearm, scorching my skin like a brand.

If I’m being honest with myself, I’ve never managed to pull off anything casual. My heart always gets involved. I always end up more invested than the other person. I push too hard and make things fucking weird eventually. But with Lewis’s big blue eyes on me and the taste of his release still on my lips, I already know my answer.

“I can do that.”

He lets out a relieved breath and smiles as he reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone.

“Cool. Put your number in and I promise I’ll text you this time.”

Will he? I guess there’s only one way to find out.

Chapter 4

LEWIS

After the blowjob of a lifetime last night and some solid sleep, I’ve decided that maybe I acted like a little bit of a dick before. Obviously, that unhinged neon goblin twink next door has his own issues to sort out, but we’re neighbors now, and I need to make an effort to get along.

I stop on my way to the shop and pick up a couple of iced coffees and pastries from Row’s favorite bakery. Then I spend the ten-minute drive practicing my apology and working on my most friendly, contrite smile. When I pull into the parking lot of the strip mall my little flower shop now calls home, I’m surprised to see several people milling around outside of my door. I glance at the dashboard clock in my car and frown. Nope, I’m not running late. Well, if these people are so desperate for flower arrangements that they’re lining up for them before eight in the morning, I’m definitely not going to complain.

I grab the tray of coffees and the pastry bag and get out of my car. Which, for the record, is a new-to-me 2015 Civic that I bought after that dramatic bitch fucked off to car heaven. I can’t be too mad at her though, since her last earthly act was to land me the hottest hookup of my life. RIP, you beautiful drama queen.

As I climb out of my car and give my queuing customers a big grin to reassure them that I’m going to be right with them, it strikes me that the handful of people lined up aren’t my usual clientele. From the look of it, they’re mostly teenage girls. Prom isn’t for months still, and even then, it’s usually moms who come in to buy the corsages. Are pretty flower arrangements the latest TikTok trend? If so, halle-fucking-lujah, it’s about time my special talent became cool. Honestly, the universe owes me after a lifetime of mocking.

I hustle up to the door and balance my breakfast in one arm while I fish the keys out of my pockets to unlock the shop.

“Morning, Ladies,” I greet them cheerfully. “Are you all here for something special this morning? Maybe a lively sunflower arrangement or an elegant lily bouquet?”

They exchange confused looks and then one of the girls gives me a hopeful look while her friends nudge her from behind, prodding her into being the spokesperson for their little group.

“We heard you had Tay Tay tickets you were giving away, like, as a promotion or something? None of us have, like, any money to buy flowers, but we could Snap your shop and stuff if you just please, please, please give us the tickets?” She bounces on her toes as she unleashes the plea and I furrow my brow.

“Uh… sorry, but there must be some mistake. I don’t have tickets for anything, let alone a sold-out Taylor Swift concert.” I give them an apologetic shrug and watch as they all shuffle away in disappointment. “That was fucking weird,” I mutter to myself once they’re gone.

Where in the world they got the idea that I would have T-Swift tickets is beyond me, but whatever. Teenagers are weird, and one of their friends was probably fucking with them. I put it out of my mind and set about opening things up for the day, checking on my premade arrangements and pulling the ones that are starting to wilt. The bell over the door jingles and I look over my shoulder to see Rowan with his apron slung over his shoulder and a smile on his face.

“Are we in a better mood this morning?” he asks with a pointed look in my direction. I roll my eyes and gesture to the coffee and Danish on the counter.

“Yes, bestie. And by taking my offered treat, you are tacitly agreeing to not look smug when I slink next door later with my tail between my legs to apologize for getting off on the wrong foot.”

He picks up the Danish and takes a massive bite, flakes of the pastry crust clinging to his ginger beard before he brushes them off and smirks at me. “Deal,” he mumbles through a full mouth.

While he sips his coffee, he turns the phone on and then heads to the back to grab a broom. Before he even reaches the back room, the phone starts to ring. I wave him off and scurry over to answer it.

“Thank you for calling Little Shop of Flowers—”

“Are you the guy with the Taylor Swift tickets?” the person on the other end asks breathlessly.

I frown and pull the phone away from my ear, looking at it as if it’s going to hold the answer to what exactly in the fuck is happening right now. I bring it back to my ear and shake my head even though I know they can’t see me through the phone.

“I’m sorry, there’s some mistake, I don’t have any tickets. Have a beautiful day,” I say as cheerfully as I can manage. The abruptness of the dial tone in response makes me blink and then huff. “Well fuck you too then, spoiled child,” I mutter under my breath as I set the phone back down.

Rowan returns from the back with the broom and starts on the floors.

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