“Lighten up,” he says unapologetically. “You and I know what we are.”
“I know what I am, and I’m nothing like you.”
“Too bad for you. Maybe you haven’t been admired enough to know it’s the best feeling in the world. A hell of a lot better than love.”
I really want to argue with him, but unfortunately I happen to agree with his theory that love isn’t all that great. I was convinced Sam and I had a happy, one-in-a-million relationship, and even that ended with me getting dumped so suddenly and so harshly I still have whiplash. “Well, I’m sure you never run out of admirers,” is all I say.
“Exactly. Hey, hang a right here.”
“I know how to get to your house,” I argue but turn right anyway.
“I’m not going to my house. Drop me at that little bungalow up on the left.”
“You really just conned me into giving you a ride to some booty call’s house.” I shake my head as I slow to a stop in front of a cute little Craftsman-style house.
Reeve grins proudly. “Thanks for the ride. Just for that, I’m going to give you a cut of my tips after all.”
“No, thanks,” I say, trying to sound like I really mean it.
He pulls out his wallet and peels off a ten-dollar bill that he deposits on the console between us. “See you around.”
“Ten dollars? Are you serious?” It must be a fraction of what he made in tips tonight. “Keep it, Reeve.” I crumple up the bill and throw it at him, but he’s already out of the car and it lands ineffectually on his empty seat as he shuts the door.
I squash the urge to scream obscenities out the window and instead take off without looking back at him. What an asshole.
ELEVEN
reeve
“Let’sgo with two dozen pink roses,” Cam says to the lady behind the counter at the flower shop. “Actually, wait. Can we do three dozen? Or four? Whatever it takes to make it look super deluxe and over the top.”
“Sure.” She pushes aside a display of glass jar candles and bags of potpourri to make space on the white countertop for a pad of paper. “We can do it up nicely.”
“What’s with the hundred roses?” I ask Cam. “If you’re not careful, Minnie’s going to think you’re accusing her of turning fifty this year.”
“Tell you later,” Cam says, then turns to the flower lady. “And maybe we can throw something white in there.”
“Baby’s breath?” she suggests.
I shake my head. “No way. Minnie doesn’t like that. What about that dragon flower?”
“Snapdragons?” the woman asks.
“Yeah, that’s it. That would work, right?”
“Sure, white snapdragons. That’ll be lovely.” She writes that down, then looks between me and Cam. “How sweet of you guys to remember your mother’s birthday. You’re brothers?”
“No,” Cam says at the same time I say, “Yes.”
I wink at the lady. “We are. He just likes to pretend we’re not because, you know, look at me. The only time Cam here isn’t the best-looking guy in the room is when he’s standing next to yours truly. Sucks to deal with that your whole life.”
She presses her lips together to hold back a smile. “Well, I’m sure she’s very proud of both of you. My son couldn’t tell you my birthday if he was looking at my birth certificate. So just the rose arrangement for today?”
“That’ll do it,” Cam says, pulling out his wallet.
“Hold on. The roses can be from you, Cam. Let me get my own for Minnie this year. What’s that big flower she grows in the yard, the huge one with all the petals?”
“Delilah?” Cam says.
