Page 51 of Petals and Plot Twists
He crosses through the kitchen and into the living room where he pulls a t-shirt out of a laundry basket he’s currently using as a dresser. I gotta say, I’m sorry to see the view go.
“The Sunday puzzle?” he asks. “Any luck?”
I pick up my phone again and reopen the app. “I’m still working on Saturday,” I say. “And I’ve made very little progress.”
He drops into the chair across from me. “Want me to look?”
“Absolutely not,” I say. “You’ll know all the answers, and then I’ll feel dumb.”
He rolls his eyes. “You aren’t dumb. Saturday is the hardest one. I can never do it without help.”
“Right? Me neither. I’m solid on Mondays and Tuesdays, but after that, I can’t do them without auto-check. Do you turn on auto-check?”
His lips twitch. “More like…I sometimes have to check one or two letters?”
“Peter!” I yell. “See? Now I do feel dumb.”
He grins. “It just takes practice. We can work on it together if you want.”
I slide my phone across to him. “Do you want coffee?”
“Yes, please,” he says.
I make him a cup while he enters who knows how many answers into the puzzle. When I sit back down and put his mug in front of him, he slides the phone back, and the puzzle is close to a third done.
“Are you serious right now?”
He runs a hand across his face, and I notice the stubble dusting his cheeks. How have I never noticed how handsome he looks with stubble? How have I missed how deliciously sexy this man is first thing in the morning?
“I could be wrong,” he says as he reaches for his coffee. “Just read them over and see what you think.”
I try to read them over, but my focus is completely shot. With Peter sitting across from me, with his gravelly voice and his messy hair and his very sexy stubble, there’s no way I’m answering any of these clues.
I need to have a conversation with Willa.
And possibly go for a very long walk. And then spend some time with my hands in the dirt so I can figure out what to do. I do my best thinking when I’m gardening.
Wait.
That’s it.
The garden! I just need to get Peter onto the roof.
Every single time I’ve told Willa or Allison that dating Peter would be entirely too complicated, I’ve meant it. My relationship with Peter is one of the most important ones in my life. I don’t want to lose him. Ican’tlose him. And if trying to love him meant losing him, I can’t imagine it ever being worth it. Which is why I would never risk a relationship without some kind of guarantee.
But Ihavea guarantee. If the flower blooms for us, the risk is gone.
If it doesn’t, then I’ll know we aren’t destined to be in love, and I’ve somehow gotten my feelings jumbled up. And we won’t have to wreck anything trying to figure that out on our own.
“Hey, what are you doing today?” I ask. “Want to help me do some weeding up in the garden?”
Peter narrows his gaze at me, like he can’t quite believe I asked, and I remember his allergies.
“So I can be miserable for the rest of the weekend?” he says. “I’m actually going to play racquetball with Archer today. Then he’s taking me out for lunch. Don’t worry, though. I’ll absolutely be home in time to help with your date.”
Ugh.My date. I forgot I had another one scheduled for tonight.
I haveseveralscheduled for the upcoming week—probably because I’ve been working so hard tonotlike Peter. My dates have clearly become my defense mechanism.
