Page 66 of Wallflower in Bloom

This was a lose-lose scenario. She couldn’t say anything too vanilla because then she’d be desperately uncool, and she couldn’t say anything too crazy because he’d run for the hills.

“I don’t know.” She stood at the bedroom door.

“Come sit.” He pointed to the empty side of the bed.

“But I was going to let you rest.”

“You are not going to leave me. I am injured.” He coughed.

Her lips quirked. “I thought it was your head.”

He put a hand to his heart and pulled a forlorn expression. “Heads don’t make sounds. Remember, your tree injured me. Spilling all your sexual fantasies on this list is the least you can do.”

Violet let out a bark of laughter. He got comfortable under the covers and pulled back the coverlet for her, inviting her in.

It’s only one night. Just until he feels better.

Violet slid under the covers and avoided his eyes. “I can barely talk about sex, let alone tell you my fantasies.”

He turned to her, nuzzled into his pillow. He closed his eyes. “I was a theatre major at university.” His voice was low and intimate in the small space between them. “I have heard, seen, or done everything. You cannot shock me.”

Hadn’t she wanted to be brave and bold only a few days ago? Where had that gone?

Violet wasn’t a virgin, exactly. She had experience, but not a lot, and not recently. Certainly not as much as a publicized playboy like him.

She didn’t usually enjoy being with another person. Thoughts of what she looked like and being the perfect girlfriend always swirled in her head. It was hard to let loose and focus on herself, the pleasure of it all. She’d only rounded a few bases and hit a home run to say she’d done it.

Her want-to-try list was long and scandalous by comparison.

She looked back at him, and his eyes were closed, but his thumb stroked her hand.

“We are waiting,” he mumbled, half-asleep.

Be brave. He was well on his way to sleep anyway. “You might have been a theatre major in college, but I’ve been a romance reader since high school.”

He pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her so she nuzzled into the nook of his chest. Every single nerve ending was awake, and goosebumps trailed down her arms.

This was exactly what she’d dreamed of. What she’d craved.

“And?” he whispered groggily.

Be bold. “Which means my want-to-try list is more of a want-to-try notebook. If I’ve read it, it’s…it’s probably on the list,” she admitted, her heart racing.

A beat of silence hung between them, and she thought maybe he’d fallen asleep.

“Fucking hell,” he slowly groaned. “As soon as the ice pick stops hitting my brain, we’re going through that notebook. Line by fucking line.”

He nuzzled her head and let out a big sigh, settling down for the night. Violet was frozen solid, trying to process what he’d just said.

A minute later, she heard his gentle snores and let herself wiggle with the excitement and absolute nerve-wracking realization that maybe he meant it.

JACK

After several days of rest, the pounding in Jack’s head finally faded away.

He’d scarcely seen Violet between her volunteer work, Bloom, and her garden. He and Todd had lain low, snacking on all the bits and bobs she’d left him in the kitchen.

He still hadn’t admitted he was so distracted by the mere possibility of her breasts that he’d knocked himself out cold.

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