CHAPTER 1
He’d bought flowers. Expensive flowers. A freaking bouquet of them.
Who were they for? A friend? A date? When had he gone on a date?
Aspen Davies tapped her indigo-painted nails against the marble kitchen island as she stared at the receipt like it would somehow answer her questions.
Maybe he’d bought them for a sick aunt?
No. These were pink roses. A man didn’t buy pink roses for a sick aunt. Lilies? Sure. Tulips? Absolutely. Butnotpink roses. Pink roses were romantic. They were an I-like-you-let’s-date flower. An I’m-attracted-to-you flower.
Was he dating someone? Was heattractedto someone? Who? Nancy from the grocery store? She hadn’t been able to take her eyes off him when they’d gone in for rice last Thursday night. Or maybe it was Lorelei from the library. She was cute. Sweet. Had a girl-next-door vibe that guys usually loved.
DidJesselove that?
Argh. Why did she care? Jesse was a roommate. Heck, he was her landlord, if you considered the fact that he owned the house and she was just renting a room.
She didn’t care. There was absolutely no caring happening here. None.
So why was she standing in the kitchen, stressing about some flowers on a receipt like she was crazy?
Her phone rang, Callie’s name flashing on the screen.
“I’m losing my mind without you,” Aspen said to her best friend, not even bothering with a hello. “Two entire months and poof, my mind is gone.”
“I miss you too.”
“No, you don’t understand. I’mreallylosing it.”
“Your whole mind or just a little bit of it?”
“You don’t believe me? This morning, I left the conditioner in my hair and didn’t realize until I was out of the shower and pulling on jeans. I put my shirt on backward. Now I’m obsessing about something that should absolutelynotbe taking up space in my head.”
“First of all, every time I’ve left conditioner in too long, it’s just made my hair softer. I’m sure your blond locks are glowing. Second, if the shirt is a plain color with no logos or words, no one will notice. And what are you obsessing about?”
She nibbled the inside of her cheek, gaze returning to the receipt. “He sent someone flowers.”
God, it sounded as silly out loud as it did in her head. He was nothing but a friend to her…she shouldn’t care.
“He, as in—”
“Jesse. You know, the former Ghost Ops soldier who offered me a room in his house. The man who’s a million feet tall, with gorgeous tattoos down his arms and brown hair that’s far softer than it has any right to be.”
“How do you know how soft his hair is?”
“You can tell by looking at it.”
“I can’t.”
“Can we stick to the matter at hand, please? I’m going crazy without you.”
“That is not the matter at hand. The matter is why you care if Jesse sent someone flowers. You keep telling me you’re just friends.”
“Wearejust friends, and I don’t care. I just… If he’s dating someone, I should know.”
“And why is that?”
“Because we live together and that’s etiquette. He’s bound to bring said date home, and I would like a little heads-up.”
