She put together a bouquet while I stood there feeling like an idiot. When she finished, it looked good, simple with white and blue and some greenery mixed in.
“This work?” she asked.
“Yeah. That's perfect.”
I paid and took the flowers. I left the shop before I could second-guess the entire plan.
The training facility was another ten-minute walk. I got there just as afternoon sessions were wrapping up and could see fighters through the windows working bags and sparring.
I waited outside and leaned against the building with the flowers in one hand, trying to look like I belonged there instead of like a man who'd bought flowers on impulse and was now questioning every life choice.
The door opened. Fighters started filing out. Then Declan appeared.
He was sweaty with hair damp and sticking to his forehead. He was wearing gym shorts and a compression shirt that showedoff every muscle he'd spent years building. He had his bag over one shoulder and was talking to Mara.
He looked beautiful, tired and beat up and absolutely fucking beautiful.
He spotted me. His expression shifted from surprised to confused to something softer when he saw the flowers.
“Troy.” He crossed the distance between us. “What are you doing here?”
I didn't answer with words. I just grabbed his shirt and pulled him in for a kiss that tasted like sweat and sports drink. I kissed him in front of Mara and the stragglers still leaving and anyone else who happened to be watching.
When I pulled back, Declan's eyes were wide. “What was that for?”
“Because I wanted to.” I held out the flowers. “These are for you.”
He took them automatically and stared at them like he wasn't sure what to do with flowers. “You bought me flowers.”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because we're going on a date.” I grabbed his hand. “Come on. You're done training for today anyway.”
“Troy, I have paperwork to?—”
“Fuck the paperwork. Mara can handle it.” I looked at her over his shoulder. She was grinning like she'd just won the lottery. “You've got this, right?”
“Oh, I've definitely got this.” She waved us off. “Go. Have fun. Don't come back until tomorrow.”
“I'm covered in sweat,” Declan said.
“I don't care. We're going.” I started pulling him toward where I'd parked the rental car. “Trust me. Just for today. Can you trust me?”
He studied my face and looked for the angle and the catch.
Then he nodded. “Yeah. I can trust you.”
Relief flooded through me. “Good. Then get in the car.”
I drove us to a diner on the north side, the place Declan had mentioned liking once in passing with good breakfast food served all day and booths with cracked vinyl that had seen better decades.
We slid into a booth near the back. Declan set the flowers on the table between us and still looked at them like they might bite.
“You really bought me flowers,” he said again.
“Is that okay?”
