“Forgiven you? For what?”
“The whole ‘gorgeous’ thing.”
Ah.
How can I be mad that his nickname for me, a wonderful one, is what outed us?
“Did you do it on purpose?”
“I don’t think so. I-I feel hella possessive about you, Denny. And I know you were putting distance between us on campus. So, if I did do it on purpose, it was my s-subconscious staking a claim. I’d never do anything to actively hurt you. You know that.”
Because I appreciate that candid answer, I nod.
Maybe I was stressing before, but…
I smack another kiss on his lips and snag a hold of his hand. “The capsaicin will do the punishing, but I forgive you. Come on. Let’s get this show on the road.”
That kicked puppy look fades from his expression. It’s replaced with a gleam of excitement, which has me sighing.
Again with the craziness—he wants this.
He wants people to know we’re dating.
I yank his hand, but he shakes his head then snags one of the flowers from the posy he picked.
Zac’s been giving me flowers for weeks.
Me.
Not the apartment.
Me.
“Here.” His lips quirk at the corner. “Gladiolus is the August flower.Seemed pretty fitting considering this whole thing was birthed then. Red for love. White for purity. Yellow for friendship. Purple for beauty.” He slips the purple one out and hands it to me. “So the world knows what I think of you.”
“Not the white for purity?” I tease, refusing to acknowledge how thick my throat feels.
I’m not crying.You’re crying!
“Nah, I robbed you of that last week. And I got this idea from your idol?—”
My brow furrows. “Gracie Bukowski?”
“Yep.”
From out of nowhere, he plucks a brooch. I gasp then melt as he snags a hold of his jersey, pierces the fabric with the backing, and settles it in place.
As he tucks the flower into it, he offers, “The antique dealer said it was pretty old.”
Peering down at the flower and the brooch that pins it to my chest, I whisper, “Thank you, Zach.”
“Anything for you, Denver.”
For a second, I hang in limbo.
Wanting to cling onto that sweet, sweet softness in his expression as he looks at me.
All while knowing men, hockey players in particular, speak out of their asses most of the time.
