Page 118 of Chasing Sparks

Ironic that the man who hates the idea of happily ever after somehow muddled his way into one, while I sit on the sidelines, watching the events unfold from the cheap seats.

Ash has called both the store and my mobile dozens of times and texted twice that many, but I’m not ready yet. He’s lingered by the coffee bar inOne More Pageand in the parking lot, but I squirrel myself safely out of sight until he leaves.

I don’t know what to say to him—perhaps I never will.

I don’t hate Ash. Trust me, it would be easier if I did. But love, mixed with supreme disappointment over the recent turn of events, are my overriding emotions.

If he had cheated on me, hate would have come easily, and I’d likely be engaging in some serious revenge sex with any number of hot Sparkwood men right now.

But Lucille and Ash’s fling happened before our fateful night in the basement. I can’t hold it against him unless I’d like someone to dredge up my past decisions and hold them against me.

It was far easier when I was a teenager and could parade about, cutting ties and burning bridges without a backward glance. But the years have enlightened and softened me to the reality of the world.

Nothing is black and white—just muddy, drab shades of gray.

I’m certain Ash wants to remain friends—even Lucille mentioned the fact that I was Ash’s best friend—but what does that look like?

When you strip away the physical attraction, which I’m not sure how the hell to do, is there enough common ground to build a friendship?

Better question is, do I want to attempt that? Wouldn’t it be easier to walk away?

A ton of questions with no answers.

All I know is I miss him terribly.

Mina, as always, is my rock—steadfast in her support. Hell, even Braden has dropped by several times to check on me, although that might have more to do with Mina’s good looks than with my plight.

At least I slept last night, and I didn’t drink a drop of alcohol. I did, however, finish off a pint of chocolate ice cream.

Sue me. Who cares about cellulite now? No one’s looking.

Figures. The best sex of my life, and I’ll never have it again.

What a gyp.

Time to get to work. The busier I stay, the less I’ll think about Ash and the future we don’t have.

Tossing my hair into a messy bun, I shove my glasses up my nose and head out of my office.One More Pagesparkles, thanks in part to my rash of deep cleaning to keep the wolves at bay. My apartment is equally as tidy, and I’m considering offering my services free of charge to anyone in town, so long as it keeps me from ruminating on my broken heart.

Winter refuses to release her grasp on Sparkwood, so many of her residents continue to seek out my store for its glowing fireplace, book stacks, and hot cocoa. I’m blessed to own a bustling business, even if it is next door to the man I’m no longer allowed to love.

My gaze falls on a massive bouquet sitting on the front counter. Seriously, it might be the largest I’ve ever seen—a collection of daisies and irises in every color of the rainbow.

And I know who it’s from.

Ash has sent flowers daily. I guess he considers it his penance. The first day, I damn near threw it out in the dumpster, but then I changed my mind and left it to brighten the front counter.

Might as well add some color to these drab days. Plus, I don’t have to see it as much up there.

I haven’t thanked him for a single one, because that would involve speaking to him. I also haven’t read any of the cards, because my heart can’t handle that right now.

But as I move closer, I see there are two bouquets today. Guess Ash is upping the ante.

“I see he’s doubling his quota,” I mumble to Mina, nodding toward the smaller collection of dark red roses.

“Those aren’t from Ash.”

“Who are they from?”

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