"Mine's softer?"
Yeah, soft and— I shut my eyes.Stop being an asshole.
"Isn’t it?" Her voice brought me back to the present.
I grunted, grabbing the bag of potting soil and hefting it to the tabletop.
She tilted her head. "Maybe the clarity thingisa bit much."
"I'm sure it makesyoufeel better. But whoever the poor guy is, you should probably just punch him in the balls and get it over with."
She snorted. "There's nothingpoorabout him."
For some reason, Drakes's words echoed in my ears.
". . .my girl’s fine, though, dude. She’spricey…"
I scooped soil into the new pot, watching the dark, uneven pieces spill into a pile.
"It's just not," she said with a sigh, "simple."
"Seems simple enough to me."
"That sounded judgy," she said. "You don't even know me."
"I know you're here alone. You tossed your fuck-me pumps and found a place to cry—in the dark. I could guess," I said with a shrug, "but you're right, I don't know you."
"I didn't toss them. And they weren'tthathigh. I just… was done pretending." She bent down, pulling a small duffel into her lap. Red heels materialized, clacked on the floor and wobbled beside her feet.
I gently pulled the cornflowers from the small pot, coaxing dirt from the mishmash of roots before settling the plant into new soil.
"You're not exactly mister popularity either."
I held back a chuckle as I met her gaze. "I was here for the party."Yeah, right.
She pressed her lips together and out. One eyebrow arched. "No party in here, though. Looks like a guy potting plantson a Saturday night."
I swallowed my grin. "Root emergency."
She stared. "You just made that up."
"Fine, it could've waited. But the sooner…"
She leaned forward and buckled a delicate strap around her ankle. The world might've stopped then, and I really wouldn't have cared less.
Nothing could have waited, ever. I needed to be right there—with her, at that moment. The tops of her breasts barely visible inside her neckline, the strong line of her calf. That unbelievably tiny strap that was its own statement of confidence and…dear God, how long had it been? "The…I was here?"
"'But Why?’ Is the question." She settled back into the chair. "Supposedly here for a party, but no hint that you'vebeen drinking—and so much revelry and debauchery nearby."
"Idiots keep hiding pot out here. Have to check a couple of times a night, every time there's a party," I grumbled. "And there’s always a party."
"Greenhouse guard duty?" Her lips curled and her eyebrows lifted. "So that's it. Youdressed uplike a wallflower to blend in."
Ha ha. "Cute. But I found someone who needed a friend." I held up the pot of cornflowers. "You were here too."
The smile that bloomed on her face was worth the awkward attempt at a joke. I caught my breath.
"Thought you said you don't talk to them."
