Page 86 of The Girlfriend Zone

Leighton startles, but she goes with it. “And?”

And I’m not sure what I’m looking for. But now that I’ve said it, I know I’m searching for breadcrumbs. “Fuck it,” I mutter, since there’s no point pretending with Leighton. “It made me wonder if she knows…” I trail off, hoping she’ll pick up the thread.

“She does. I told her,” Leighton admits softly. “A while ago.”

“What did you tell her?”

“That…I’d have seen you again. If I could.”

“Every fucking day,” I say, shaking my head and scrubbing a hand over the back of my neck. Then I look at her again, laying all my vulnerability on the table. “I should stop thinking about what that’d be like. Really stop. But it’s hard. I want to know I’m not the only one who feels this way. That I’m not the only one who hasn’t gone on another date. There was the auction date, but it was platonic. It was a PR charity thing. I want to know I’m not the only one who feels like nothing else could compare…”

She runs her hand along her arm, her fingers tracingthe flowers as if she’s grounding herself. Then her eyes meet mine. “Do you know why I have these?”

I’m dying to know every detail about her, especially with how deliberately she shifted gears. “I don’t.”

“One day, my sister and I went to a flower farm. We had the best time, checking out all the flowers. I took pictures of us. It made me so happy. But it also stayed with me because I understood then why I love flowers so much.”

“Why do you love them so much?”

“Because I can smell them—all of them. I can tell the difference between each one. The delicate scent of jasmine. The peppery scent of calendulas. The creamy, crisp scent of lilacs. I could tell them all apart. I could smell everything.”

Her voice carries a longing. But there’s gratitude too, for the way she can detect every scent.

“That’s why you have flowers on you,” I say softly.

“Yes. Because…I can enjoy them completely. Experience them completely,” she says, closing her eyes. When she opens them, they’re full of emotion. “I haven’t seen anyone either…since you.”

“Leighton, let me drive you home.” I sound like I’m begging and I don’t even care.

She shakes her head, a small, bittersweet smile on her lips. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She takes a beat. “And you don’t either.”

I drop my head, knowing she’s right. Appreciating she’s looking out for both of us.

But I walk her to the curb anyway and wait until her Lyft arrives. I hold the door open, watching her climb inside, the ache settling deeper in my chest. Letting her go is the right thing. It’s what we both need.

When I go back inside to join the guys, Asher pulls me aside to a corner of the bar. “Be careful.”

I arch a brow, feigning confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” he says, his tone low but firm. “You’re not exactly subtle, Miles. The way you look at her—it’s only a matter of time before someone says something.”

I sigh, dropping the facade. “Thanks, man.”

He’s right. That’s something I’ll have to work on this season, even if it feels impossible right now. Especially when an image lands on my phone a little later—the shot of my brother and me. I like the pic, but I love that she sent it.

27

THE FUCK IT STAGE

Leighton

Two weeks, four wins, two losses, and thousands of photographs of hockey players later, my savings account is finally growing.

It’s working, this plan to squirrel away money.

It’s working becauseI’mworking nonstop most days—bouncing from photo shoots with the Sea Dogs, to freelance shoots for The Sports Network covering the Renegades, to Birdie’s shop for coffee art, to boudoir shoots at Hush Hush. Word of mouth is my favorite thing, and since Cora and Aliza passed my name along, along with Katrina, who told her single mom support group, I’m booking boudoir sessions into December.

On Wednesday afternoon, I’m at Melissa Bergstrand’s house, AKA Cookie Melissa. Since video is nearly as easy to shoot on my phone as photos, I’m recording her as she takes me through her husband’s walk-in closet. Her nail art is pink and mint, inspired by unicorn cookies shemade earlier today—she told me she always matches her nails to her cookies.

---