Asking.
Inviting.
Hinting.
Spending.
Hunting me down.
Naturally, I was curious. Curiosity and boredom had led me to this moment. He didn’t have much of my time to waste tonight. Business was calling. The second I felt anything but comfort in his presence would be the second our time together would end.
I pushed the button to shut down my screen and wrapped my hands around the doorknob. Simultaneously, I smoothed my hair to refresh my style.
“Good evening, Kimberly.”
My brows furrowed at the sound of the name Kimberly. I squeezed the knob, prepared to shut the door before realizing Brandon wasn’t calling me by my government name because I hadn’t given it to him.
Chuckling, lowly, I rolled my lips together, smoothing out my lip gloss. I wanted to share the news that he had the wrong name, but decided against it. The handsome, dark, and buff ex-NFL player had spent nearly fifty thousand on Kimberly. Royce was worth so much more. I wasn’t sure if he was ready to meet her yet, so it would be Kimberly for now.
“Good evening, Brandon.”
“For you,” he said, extending his right arm to hand me the beautiful bouquet.
Though my face remained pleasant, my thoughts were the farthest from it.
I hate flowers.
And dates, actually.
Men as well.
Talking stages, especially.
“Thank you.”
“Is it really that bad?”
“Elaborate.”
“Getting flowers. This must be your hundredth bouquet this year.” He chuckled.
“I had intentions of reserving my thoughts, but since you insist– I hate flowers. Don’t bring them again unless you don’t want me in your company. And, make this your last time mentioning what another man has done for me. Because then we’d have to talk about how you aren’t touching their gifts with a ten-foot pole. Let’s try a bouquet of checks next time. Flowers don’t do shit but die.”
The words were at the tip of my tongue. Instead of letting them fly, I smiled with flared nostrils.
“If we’re going to hint at what other men have done for me in the past, I will have to mention how much of their budgets they reserve for me. Let me know when you’re ready.”
“Just like that?”
I accepted the roses.
“Yes, love.”
I eased the blow with a word frequently used on women after a bunch of bullshit had been spewed.
“I think I’m in love already.” He laughed, placing his hand across his heart. “You ready?”
“Yes. One second. I need to put these in water.”
