“Me.” I had to look away from him. I was too embarrassed, and he was being too understanding, which only made me feel worse. “It’s probably going to sound super immature—which is ironic because I assumed that out of the two of us, you were the immature one—but I think I freaked out when Kaylani showed up with Ryan. Not because it was Ryan, although that definitely didn’t help, but because it meantanotherone of my friends had found their person and I hadn’t. It’s hard being ‘the single friend’ after a while, you know?”
I snuck a peek through my lashes, mostly to make sure he was still there. That I wasn’t speaking into the void.
Not only was he there, but he was also listening. A captivated audience hanging on my every word.
“I get it.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, it’s—” The crack in his voice was like a punch to the gut. It was clear that I wasn’t the only one of us with some unprocessed hurt. “Sometimes it’s easier to play a role than be yourself.”
“Exactly.”
I squirmed beneath his penetrating gaze. His pupils dilated to pools of black, dragging me deeper into the unknown. Where did we go from here?
“Your dracaena is getting too much light.”
I reeled back. “My what?”
He pointed toward the large potted plant beside the front window. The one that had started dying the second I’d brought it into the shop. “Dracaena Giganta.”
The words effortlessly rolled off his tongue, sending a burst of tingles directly toward my pussy.
That was a first. Did I have a Latin fetish?
“They’re fairly low maintenance, but they prefer indirect sunlight.”
“Did they tell you that?” I teased, grateful for the lighter subject.
“They didn’t need to.” He pulled his wallet out of his pants pocket and tossed it on the counter. “I read it in a book.”
I finished checking him out after that. While I processed his order and bagged up his book, he rattled off plant facts like they were days of the week. Playing professional baseball and reading romance weren’t enough—from the sound of it, the guy was an expert gardener, too.
As soon as his transaction was finished, he plopped a gift bag that I hadn’t realized he’d come in with on the counter between us.
“What’s that?” I asked, pointing to the bag.
“Your teapot.”
“I told you I didn’t need another teapot.”
“And I told you I was buying it anyway.” He nudged the bag closer to my side of the counter. “C’mon, Nessa, you should know by now that I usually get what I want.”
We shared a smile. It didn’t escape my notice that for the first time in a long time, he had actually used my name.
“You know, you don’t need to be my fake boyfriend anymore if you don’t want to.”
“Who said I didn’t want to?” he asked, a challenge in his eyes.
“I just meant— I can come clean about the whole stupid idea.”
“Hey, I resent that. It wasmyidea to keep it going.” I caught my breath when he placed his palms on the counter and leaned forward. “Has it ever crossed your mind that maybe I just like spending time with you?”
I faltered under his transfixing stare. Pink had made no secret of his attraction to me, but until tonight, I hadn’t considered it might be more than that. What could a twentysomething baseball player with movie-star good looks—and a dick that apparently rivaled a porn star’s—want with me?
He had his entire career, his entire life ahead of him. Rose City was all I had ever known.
Rather than wait for an answer he was never going to get, he pocketed his wallet and backed away toward the door.
