Page 87 of Petals and Plot Twists
“He said he appreciated the honesty, but he wasn’t surprised. Not after he saw us together after the storm.”
I think back to that afternoon, to how worried I was when I found Sophie at the top of the stairs, shivering and soaked to the skin. “I maybe came on a little too strong that day,” I say.
“You didn’t,” Sophie says. “It was sweet, the way you were worried about me.” She stabs her chopsticks into the half-eaten kung pao chicken and sets the container to the side. “Okay, I’m going to tell you something, but I don’t want you to think it’s the reason I’m here.”
“Keep talking,” I say, reaching for her discarded food. I can’t quite reach, so she grabs it and hands it over.
“The flower never bloomed for me and David,” she says, and I freeze, mouth open, the bite of chicken I just picked up falling back into the container with a plop.
“It didn’t?”
She shakes her head no. “But it’s important to me that you know I decided to come herebeforeI learned the truth about what happened. You aren’t my backup plan, Peter. You’re mymain plan.Myonlyplan.”
“But youdidsee the flower bloom, right? So…I don’t understand. If not for you and David, then…?”
“For Willa and Archer,” she says. “They were on the roof at the same time. I didn’t see them because they were making out behind the rose trellis, but they were definitely there. Willa remembered specifically because of the storm.”
I breathe out a chuckle. “And to think how much trouble they caused,” I say.
“That’s what I said!” Sophie says. “But also, it was the nudge I needed, so maybe I’m not so mad about it.”
I’m not sure I’ll ever be mad at anything again as long as Sophie is beside me. Not even when, right before I drift off to sleep, she whispers into the darkness, “Just for the record, we definitelyaregoing to the NASCAR Hall of Fame before we fly home on Saturday. Whether you like it or not.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sophie
Peterand I try to get on the same flight on the way home on Saturday, but it proves to be more logistical trouble than it’s worth, so I arrive home to The Serendipity before he does. I’m restless waiting for him. Pacing my apartment. Too preoccupied to do much of anything until he’s home.
Even though Peter has been a part of my life for a very long time, I am currently obsessed with him in new and miraculous ways. I cannot get enough of him. Of his kisses. Of the little smirk he gives me when he’s trying to be flirty. Of his open admiration. The man gives me compliments like he’s making up for lost time, and I am here for it.
When he finally texts that he’s arrived and invites me up to his apartment, I practically run the whole way there, sprinting up the grand staircase to the second floor and flying down the hall to Peter’s door. I’m raising my fist to knock when the door swings open and Peter is standing there, wearing the NASCAR t-shirt I bought him in the hall of fame gift shop after our tour yesterday afternoon.
I smile when I see it, then I launch myself into his arms.
He laughs and stumbles back with an oof. “Sophie, you saw me this morning. It’s been what, nine hours since we were last together?”
“I don’t care,” I say before pressing a kiss to his neck. “It was the longest nine hours of my life.”
“So this is how it’s going to be now.”
“Mm-hmm,” I say. “You started it. Now I’m hooked.” I press another kiss to his skin, moving toward the curve of his jaw. “Besotted,” I whisper. Another kiss. “Obsessed.” My lips move to the corner of his mouth. “Madly in love.”
He lets out a low groan, his hands sliding to my face. He kisses me soundly, thoroughly, until I’m breathless and weak in the knees. But then he pulls back and grins. “This isn’t what I called you up here for.”
“But it’s so fun,” I say, my hands skating up his chest. He catches my hands with his and takes a step back. “Come on. I want to give you something.” He leads me into the kitchen and has me sit at his table, then he disappears into his bedroom.
I glance around, noting how clean and ordered his apartment looks, despite the construction zone it’s been over the past few weeks. I’m still laughing about Steve’s final advice to Peter about how to handle his flickering lights, but I’m guessing now that we’re together, they won’t be giving him any more trouble. I’m as sure of that as I am that if Peter and I ever do make it onto the roof together, the flower will definitely bloom.
Not that I need it to.
I don’t. Not anymore.
The happiness and assurance in my own heart is all the sign I need that Peter is my happily-ever-after.
Peter reappears in the kitchen, and I gasp when I see what he’s holding in his hands. He sets the LEGO greenhouse down on the table, fully constructed and perfect.
“Peter! It’s beautiful.”
