Page 73 of Petals and Plot Twists
He has pleasing features, and he looks like he’s in decent shape. And even though I’ve only just met him and we’re currently standing in a closet together, I’m not getting any uncomfortable or predatory vibes. But I find myself utterly uninterested in making more than the most basic observations. I’m sure the man is nice, but my brain keeps shifting back to Peter, thrumming with a need to get out of here, to find him and assure him that I’m okay.
Even on the first floor, I’m sure he heard the hail, and he’s probably worried about me.
Can David really be my soulmate if I can’t stop thinking about someone else?
The rain finally eases up, and David looks at me over his shoulder. “Should we make a run for it?”
I nod and follow behind him as he leaves the closet and rounds the corner to the stairwell door. He holds it open for me, and I hurry inside, waiting as he comes in behind me.
He wipes the water from his face and looks over at me. “Wow,” he says through a chuckle. “I haven’t seen rain like that in a long time.”
Footsteps sound on the stairs before I can respond, and I look down to see Peter quickly approaching, a worried look on his face.
“Hey,” Peter says as he reaches the top of the steps. His hands fall on my shoulders, then shift down my arms, like he’s cataloging my person, making sure I’m whole and well and safe. “I heard the storm and got worried. Are you okay?”
My eyes dart to David, who is watching our interaction closely, but Peter’s attention stays wholly focused on me. “I’m okay,” I say. “I managed to cover the flowers before the hail started, but I couldn’t avoid the rain.” My teeth chatter the slightest bit—the air-conditioned cool of the stairwell definitely lends a bite to my very damp skin—and Peter frowns. He yanks off his hoodie and wraps it around me, his hands chuffing up and down my arms to warm them before he finally looks over at David.
“Who are you?” he asks, his tone polite but cool.
“Um, this is David,” I say. “He helped me cover the flowers.” It’s a stupid introduction, but what else can I possibly say? “David, this is my…friend, Peter.” I hesitate on the wordfriendbecause Peter is definitely more than that now, but we’re only a few hours into our new relationship dynamic. Feels a little soon to be throwing around words likeboyfriend,especially when we’re supposed to be taking things slow.
David extends his hand to Peter. “Nice to meet you,” he says as Peter shakes his hand. “Sophie and I were supposed to have a lunch date today, but apparently, the storm had other plans.” David looks at me. “Listen, I’m sure you’d like to change into something warm and dry. I’m feeling the chill myself, so I’d like to do the same. Should we reschedule for another day? Maybe one with a sunnier forecast?”
I have to at least give the guy props for not reacting to Peter’s presence with any hint of jealousy. Even though I’m technically supposed to be his date, and I’m standing here wearing Peter’s hoodie, David still seems perfectly cool and confident.
I nod. “Sorry about forgetting. And thank you for your help with the flowers.”
David steps toward the stairs. “No problem,” he says with a wink. “It’ll make a great story if we’re ever asked how we met.” He looks at Peter. “Nice to meet you, Peter. Sophie, I’ll call you.”
Peter and I are silent as David makes his way down the stairs. One flight, then two, three four before we hear the echoing click of a door opening, then falling shut.
Peter takes a deep breath, then holds out his hand. “Let’s get you downstairs and into some warm clothes.”
I slip my hand into his and let him tug me down the steps, but I can’t do this. I can’t walk with him, talk to him, let him take care of me without telling him the truth.
“Peter?” I say, giving his hand a quick squeeze.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says without pausing his steps. “You had a lot of dates scheduled. And this just happened between us. I get it. You don’t need to explain anything.”
“That isn’t it,” I say.
Peter is walking faster now, and I’m struggling to keep up, my wet sneakers squelching on every step. He grips my hand a little tighter.
“Peter, wait. Can we stop a second? I don’t want to fall.”
This, finally, snaps him out of whatever blind emotion was driving him down the stairs, and he turns, stopping two steps below me so we’re almost eye to eye.
His eyes are full of something I can’t quite read. He almost looks frustrated, but it isn’t that. It’s more like he’stormented.
“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice soft. “I’m being an idiot.”
“You aren’t,” I say. “That was a really weird situation up there.”
He licks his lips, his hand tightening around mine. “You forgot you had a date scheduled?”
I nod. “I made the plans a few days ago. I’m not sure how he got into the building. I told him we’d meet in the garden, and I planned to have you let him inside. But then, after we—after last night, I completely forgot until he showed up right before the rain started.”
Peter takes a deep breath, his eyes turning glassy for a second, like he’s remembering something.
