Page 24 of Knot in Bloom
Her sweet scent deepens and understanding dawns in her expression. Color rises in her cheeks.
“The coffee twice a week, how you happened to be walking past when the roof leaked. You’ve been taking care of me.”
“You noticed.” My voice comes out rougher than intended.
“I noticed.” Her voice gets more intimate. “It was the most thoughtful thing anyone’s done for me in a long time. You never made it feel like charity or pity, just... kindness.”
“You deserve kindness, Sadie. You deserve someone who pays attention to what you need.”
“Do I?” The question comes out more vulnerable than she intended. As if she’s genuinely uncertain about her own worth. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m just good at convincing people to care about me temporarily.”
The uncertainty in her voice makes protective instincts unfurl in my chest. How can someone so gifted at reading what others need be so blind to her own value?
“You don’t convince anyone of anything,” I say, shifting closer until I’m near enough to catch her full scent and see how her breathing quickens. “You just are who you are. Someone who creates beauty and notices when people are struggling and makes everyone around you feel important. That’s not a performance, it’s just you.”
“You really see me that way?”
“I see you as you are. Someone worth knowing, worth caring about, worth the kind of attention you give everyone else.”
The admission hangs between us, more revealing than I intended but honest in a way that feels necessary. Her scent turns sweeter at my words, arousal mixing with that floral warmth until I’m drunk on her proximity.
“Levi.” My name on her lips sounds like prayer and promise combined.
“We should probably...” she starts, then stops as if she’s forgotten her thought.
“Should probably what?”
“Focus on inventory.” But even as she says it, neither of us reaches for the papers scattered across the table, and neither of us looks away.
“Is that what you want to focus on?”
“No.” The word comes out barely above a whisper. “But I don’t know what I’m supposed to want.”
“What do you mean?”
She sets down her wine glass carefully, buying time to find the right words. “I mean I’m not used to having options. To having people in my life who care about different parts of me without expecting me to choose or prioritize or figure out how to be fair to everyone.”
“That sounds like a good thing.”
“It is. I think.” She tucks hair behind her ear in that nervous gesture I’ve learned to love. “I just don’t know how to navigate it without overthinking everything or worrying that I’m leading someone on.”
“You don’t have to figure it all out tonight. You’re allowed to just be here with me without it meaning anything more or less than what it is in this moment.”
“And what is it?”
I take a breath and choose honesty over safety. “It’s someone who cares about you hoping you might want to discover what that could mean.”
Her breath catches, and I can see her pulse jumping at her throat. “What do you want it to mean?”
“I want to know what you taste like. I want to find out if you hum when you’re content the same way you do when you’re working with flowers. I want to read to you on Sunday mornings and bring you coffee that’s actually good instead of whatever you make in that ancient machine upstairs.”
Heat flares in her eyes, and her scent spikes with arousal and surprise mixed together. “Levi.”
“What do you want, Sadie?”
She looks at me for a moment, weighing possibilities and consequences, finding the courage to be honest. “I want you to kiss me.”
I don’t need to be asked twice.
