Page 8 of Wallflower in Bloom

He fucking hated auditioning, and it would be impossible to find another acting job this stable. One where he could support his dad, his agent, himself, and the old tuxedo gent currently in the bathroom stretching his paws.

This mucked up his plans, not being able to stay with Gray. He could turn tail and return to Vancouver tomorrow, lying low and spoiling himself with food delivery while the paparazzi lurked outside his apartment. However, Todd would murder him if he had to withstand a five-hour flight so soon after the last one.

Perhaps I could hide out here.

The guest suite was comfortably outfitted. Quilts and blankets were everywhere. Extra supplies like toothpaste, a toothbrush, and shampoo were in a guest basket in the bathroom. Violet hadn’t even known he’d been coming, yet she’d been completely prepared for him.

Fascinating.

The bedroom overlooked her expansive, gorgeous back garden, and he spied a pond with a small orchard behind the greenhouse.

He pulled out his phone to check the time and saw fifteen missed texts. Two from Shay, continuing to hound him about sending a statement to the press. The rest were from random women he’d hooked up with before everything went to fucking hell.

Britt (Model/Actress??)

U around? Wanna try a 2 night stand?

Madi DO NOT ANSWER.

Wyd?

Jess (Montreal)

Had a lot of fun a few nights ago. Want to come over?

Ignore, ignore, ignore.

He couldn’t do relationships. Anything more than one night, and he’d start developing feelings.

And feelings led to inevitable disappointment.

The one-night rule kept him and his dates safe, given he never knew where his life might lead as an actor.

After his mom had left him and his dad for her acting career in the States, he promised he’d never leave anyone like that. So, better to keep everyone at a distance and just have some fun.

But it was impossible to have fun when he was up to his eyeballs in stress after fucking up his life.

His stomach growled. It was 9:00 on a Sunday in a small town, so food delivery was out of the question. There had been, however, a delicious-looking plate of biscuits on the gigantic old farm table in the kitchen.

He’d brave Violet’s fandom for a snack to stave off his hunger.

He wandered downstairs, and as he bounded into the kitchen, he stopped short. Violet was ferociously scrubbing the countertop as if it had cast a pox upon her family.

Her gardening overalls and the smudge of dirt adorably perched on her left cheek were gone. The old stained gardening gear had been replaced by an enormous men’s Penn t-shirt and yoga pants, which highlighted shockingly shapely legs.

She whipped around as if she’d been caught stealing, her hair still wet from a lightning-quick shower. Her unruly curly mop of auburn hair spilled out from the messy bun she’d plopped on top of her head.

He caught a glimpse of her shape as she turned, and his interest was piqued. Jack loved a curvy woman, but he’d promised Gray within an inch of his life he’d keep his hands to himself.

Gray knew Jack’s weakness for lush curves that looked ripe and ready for taking. Thighs thick and sweet, like molten honey he wanted to sink into. Breasts that looked like they might be absolute nirvana if he ever got a proper look beyond the enormous, boxy shirt she wore.

But Violet’s cartoon princess eyes blinked from behind thick glasses, and she looked as innocent as a startled woodland creature.

Of course, he wouldn’t make a move on her in this state.

“I’m sorry the place is such a mess.”

“I assure you, mine is worse.” He wanted to put her at ease as he wandered into the kitchen. “You don’t need to be afraid of me. It’s fine you watch the show, you know. I appreciate it. But I make you nervous, so I’ll find other accommodations tomorrow.”

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