Page 38 of Afterglow
Fletcher surges with a blush, and I’m on top of the world.
“So, I know it’s against the date idea jar rules,” I begin, “but if I finish my practice questions today, wanna go wildflower picking?”
“Can we hold hands again? F-for practice.”
“Sure, Fletcher. We can practice.”
If Fletcher Donovan asked me to sleep on the highway, I’d agree with a smile. This silly, bashful man is going to ruin me.
Chapter 15
What About the Hand Holding?
Fletcher
“It says hereit’s illegal in Ontario to pluck wildflowers from where they naturally grow.”
“Damn it,” Bea snaps. “Now what?”
“We could choose another idea.”
“Wait—I’ve got it!” She hustles to the foyer and shoves her feet into slip-on sneakers. “Come on, come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“Just drive, I’ll show you.” We race down the hallway and into the pickup. “Take Rideau toward 99.” She giggles, the mischievous, childlike glee making her cheeks go rosy. For the next ten minutes, I’m too busy admiring her to notice we arrive at a familiar neighborhood. “Okay, stop here.”
The hypnosis clears. I squint and look up through the passenger window. “What are we doing at Gabe and Wade’s?”
“You’ll see in a second,” she assures. Once we park, Bea leads me by the hand to the security desk. If my hand is in hers, I’d follow her anywhere.
She addresses the guard at the desk with a honeyed lilt. “Hi there,Stephen. How’s it going?”
Stephen’s response is delayed while he side-eyes her. “I’m doing well, and you?”
“I’m good, I’m good.” She claps a hand to the desktop. “I have alittleproblem, and I know you can help me out.”
“How so?”
“Yes! You see, my friends, Gabe Finch and Wade Boehner live in the penthouse here. And I’m supposed to water their plants while they’re vacationing in Florida, but—” she facepalms— “Gabe forgot to leave me a key card.”
“I see.”
“Their plants are so precious to them, and it’s been so sunny lately, I don’t want the ones on the rooftop to dry out. If you could let me and my friend here up to their penthouse?—”
“Do you have ID?”
She pulls it from the small wallet stuffed in her purse. “I’m on the list. So’s Fletcher” —her thumb points to me— “he’s friends with Gabe and Wade, too. In fact, he and Wade play hockey together.”
Stephen is still skeptical, switching his gaze between me and Behraz. “Which hockey team?”
“Ottawa’s team. The Regents.”
“Your ID, sir?”
The keyboard clicks as he searches our names on their safe-to-enter list.
“You can go up.”
