JANE
It’s a long day to close, and as I head home after locking up the shop, my feet feel almost as heavy as my heart.
Not only does the sting of Gio’s rejection refuse to fade, but I won’t even have the balm of Jackson’s smile when I get home because he called to ask if he could go to the park to play soccer with Tanner and Chase for a few hours after school.
And since Tanner’s mom will be dropping him off, I’ll be alone in the house until dinner.
Staring out the window as the L carries me home, I wonder what it’s like to be one of those women who finds a happily ever after with a man.
Not that I’m particularly lonely—or starved of love. Jackson is the only reason I need to keep on living, and Blossoms gives me purpose and makes my life fulfilling.
I just wonder sometimes what it would be like to have someone to share it all with.
Shaking my head, I turn my attention to the people in the train car with me, to remind myself that I’m not the only one without a relationship.
I search each of their faces, studying the degrees of emotion, but my mind keeps playing tricks, looking for the similarities the men have to Gio, pretending one of them might be him.
Less than half the people in my car are wearing wedding rings, and while a few couples lean close to share secrets or hold each other’s hand, the rest of us are just going about our daily lives, heading to or from work—or wherever our final destination might be.
The train pulls into the station with a metallic hiss, and I get off at my stop, leisurely strolling the last few blocks to my townhome.
There’s no sense in rushing without Jackson at home waiting for me.
I check the mailbox then take the time to literally stop and smell the roses creeping over and between the white picket fence posts surrounding my yard.
Then I open the front gate to make my way up the walk, searching for the reasons to be happy so my steps won’t feel quite so dejected.
A yelp jumps from my lips when I look up to find an unexpected figure waiting on my front porch, and I cover my mouth with my fingers, an embarrassed smile stretching across my lips over my jumpy reaction as Gio rises from his seat on my front steps.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you,” he says as he dusts off the seat of his pants.
“No, it’s fine. I just didn’t see you there.” I give an airy laugh as I approach, my steps inexplicably lighter.
My eyes land on the bouquet in his hand, and I immediately feel guilty for the bubble of relief that rises in my chest. “Does that mean things didn’t go so well? With the girl?” I add, gesturing to the flowers.
What kind of person—what kind of friend—does that make me if I’m hoping the answer is yes?
Worse yet is the hope silently spreading through me that if things didn’t work out with her, he might just give me a chance.
Should I even want to be his second choice?
The easy answer is no.
Does that make me pathetic if I would take it anyway?
Before I can get too far down that path in my head, Gio smiles, and the voices fall silent.
“I actually haven’t asked her yet,” he says, amusement teasing the edge of his tone, then he extends the bouquet toward me. “So, what do you think? Would you be willing to have dinner with me tonight?”
Stunned speechless, I stop before him, my jaw dropping as I stare down at the flowers I helped him pick out.
I should be angry with him over such a dirty trick—turning my emotions in knots all afternoon just so he could surprise me with the exact flowers I would want.
But then I think of the woman he described in my shop, and all I feel is giddy as I reach for the flowers.
Holding them up to my nose as if I don’t already know exactly how good they’ll smell, I inhale deeply and smile.
Gio knows just how to knock me off balance, but somehow, it only makes him more charming.
