Page 22 of Wild Flower

Miranda:You’re the best!

Finn:I’m going to my university class now, and I’m turning my phone off.

I don’t bother to give her a chance to respond before clicking the power button. Instead, I think about Becca’s tattoos and how I’d rather be photographing them instead of this garden. Clearly, my male fucking gaze has a one-track mind.

Should I call Archer? Do I tell him about the flower shop or just show up to surprise my muse without him? I still have a damn photography assignment to do. Maybe I can ask Becca to model.

Archer told me to be patient and wait: lether come to us.

But thinking about her has me itching to take photographs … and I’m not feeling patient in the slightest.

13

BECCA

Istare at Miranda with my mouth open, gawking like a hungry bird awaiting its next meal.

Finn is Miranda’s cousin?

Miranda has cornered me at the back of my shop. I may have a hose with a spray nozzle to defend myself, but Miranda has an incriminating look on her face (and the fact that I suck at lying on her side).

Are Miranda and Finn close enough that he’d tell her about how I lifted my skirt so he could watch (which was so hot I’m clenching my inner muscles just thinking about it)?

They can’t bethatclose. I didn’t even know Miranda had a cousin that lived on the island. Of course, that doesn’t mean Finn isn’t the type to regale his kin with his conquests. The man has kinks. Maybe he enjoys showing off his trophies.

“I didn’t know you had a cousin on the island,” I deflect, avoiding her questions like I’ve been arrested and I don’t have my lawyer present. “Or that he worked at Flambé.”

Miranda narrows her eyes at me. Neither of those things are lies, yet I still seem guilty.

“The restaurant was busy last night and Finn couldn’t cover our table,” Miranda reveals. “Not that you should be sad; the alternative was your hunky bat-wing man.”

“Bat-wing man?”

“Like that Romantacy series you read.”

“Romantacy?”

“Romance and Fantasy? Hello! Isn’t that what those influencers say on social media?” Miranda frowns. “You read that book about fated mates, and then you couldn’t shut up about wanting a long-haired, bat-boy in your life. Well, order yourself some online bat-wings and play dress up, because Archer is ready to satisfy!”

Miranda has no idea the type of fantasies I’d like Archer to satisfy—or that I’d like her cousin involved. Also, I caught that comment about not being sad Finn didn’t wait on us, which means Miranda has no idea hehand fedme after she left.

“Bat boy fantasies sound kinky,” I say, fishing to see how Miranda will react.

“Girl! Please do all the utility belt, upside down kissing, kinky things that I can’t. I need to live vicariously through you.”

“Live vicariously through me? What about Kyle?” I raise an eyebrow. “You were ready to climb each otherin front of melast night!”

“Flambé is hot,” Miranda agrees. “Okay, fine!” Miranda throws her hands up in the air. “My sex life is great. I just wantedyouto be enjoying more than your one-handed romance novels and trying to get hot by looking at anthurium stamens.”

“Ido notlook at my plants to get aroused!” I spray her with my mister.

Miranda squeals as she walks up to the anthuriums. “But look at these things.” She points at the plant. “These are phallus central!”

The flowers are made up of a large, red, lily-pad-like petal (the spathe), and in the center is an erect-looking, yellow spadix (which Miranda incorrectly called a stamen). At least she knew they were called anthuriums.

But she has a point. The spadix definitely looks like a dick. And though the yellow phallus is only the size of my pinkie, in relative proportion to the spathe it’s wildly impressive.

“I’d be deranged if I was excited by the male genitaliaof flowers!” I toss at my friend.

---