“That works perfect. I’ll call Trisha and tell her we’ll meet her at the first house around four.”
“Okay.” She nods. “Meet me back here at three-thirty?”
“I will.” I push away from the counter. “Thank you again, Mary.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She swipes her hand through the air. “Now get out of here so I can work.”
I chuckle, throwing a wave up as I spin around and quickly exit the lobby.
The late morning sun scorches down on me as I make my way through the parking lot toward my dad’s old Plymouth. My cell starts vibrating right as I reach the driver’s side door. Pulling the device from my pocket, an instant smile grazes my lips when I see Blakely’s name flashing across the screen.
“I knew you couldn’t resist,” I say, skipping over the formalities.
“Couldn’t resist what?” I can hear the smile in her voice.
“Although I’ve got to say, I didn’t think it would take you this long. Four days, that’s an awful long time to make a man wait, B.” I tisk, sliding into the car.
“You know that’s the funny thing about phones. They work two ways.”
“This is true.” I chuckle. “But this can’t be a one-sided friendship. I can’t always be the one coming to you.”
“You’re ridiculous.” She snorts.
“Are you calling to tell me you’ve decided to come with me on Sunday?”
“No.”
“No?”
“I mean, I still haven’t decided. I’m actually calling because I wanted to see if you were free for lunch today.”
“It just so happens that I am. What did you have in mind?”
“I don’t want to close down the shop for long. What do you say we hit McKinney’s across the street? You used to always love their club sandwich.”
“You remember.”
Ignoring my comment, she continues, “Anyway, eleven o’clock work for you?” I look down at the clock on my dash to see it’s already ten-thirty.”
“Eleven works perfect. I’ll meet you at the shop and we can walk over together.”
“Okay, see you then.” She hangs up abruptly.
I pull the phone back and stare at the blank screen for a long moment, not really sure what the hell just happened. Shaking my head, I drop the device onto the passenger seat before firing the engine to life.
It only takes me about ten minutes to make it across town to where Florence’s is located. I park on the curb in front of the shop, but instead of waiting in the car, I decide to head inside. I haven’t seen her since last Saturday when we had dinner at her parents’. I feel like I’m going through withdrawals.
If it were up to me, I would be calling her and showing up to see her every day, but I can’t force myself on her in hopes that she’ll choose me over him. I can’t approach it that way, not if I want any shot of winning her back.
I know Blakely well enough to know that if her hand feels forced, she’ll veer the other way, and that’s the last thing I want.
It’s killing me, though. Knowing she’s with him. Knowing he’s the one holding her at night and the first one who gets to see her face every morning. I try not to think about it, mainly because it hurts too fucking much, but most days I can’t help it. It’s the first thought that crosses my mind every morning when I open my eyes. It’s what I think about every night before I doze off. I can’t shake it. And yet, in some weird way I know it’s only temporary. He may have her now, but it’s only a matter of time before she realizes it isn’t where she wants to be.
So I’ll play her little game. I’ll pretend to just be her friend. I’ll smile and act like everything is fine. And then when the time is right, I’ll take back what’s always been mine.
“I said eleven.” Blakely gives me an annoyed look as I push my way inside the flower shop.
“Close enough.” I shrug, unable to fight a smile.
“I’m going to be a few minutes. I made some new arrangements that I need to get into the coolers.” She avoids my gaze as I cross the room and step up next to her.
“No problem. I was already in the car when you called. Figured I’d head on over. Here, I can help,” I tell her, not missing the way her hand shakes slightly when I reach out and take the vase she’s holding. “I’ll get these stocked and you can bring out the rest.” I gesture toward the back where the storage and assembly room is located.
It’s really nothing more than a large open space with two long tables set up in the middle; various flowers, vases, ribbon, balloons, and just about any other crafty thing you can think of, strewn over top of them. Or at least that’s how it was when we were kids. I haven’t been back there in years.
“You don’t have to help.” She finally looks up, her dark eyes uncertain.
It’s strange. It almost feels like she doesn’t want me here and yet she’s the one that invited me.
“I want to.” I tilt my head toward the back. “Go.”
“Okay.” She grins, seeming to relax slightly.
I watch her cross the length of the shop, my gaze drawn to where her dark skinny jeans cling to her ass. I have to suppress a groan. It’s been far too long since my eyes have traveled down her incredible body. Since my fingers have glided along her perfect skin. Since I’ve felt myself buried deep inside of her. It was always my favorite place to be. The one place I always felt safe. The one place where I could forget everything and everyone and simply feel. No one but Blakely has ever made me feel that way.
I’m still staring in her direction long after she disappears into the back room, my fingers biting into the vase I’m holding so tightly it’s a wonder the glass hasn’t shattered.
I shake my head and refocus, sliding the bouquet into the cooler. I manage to unload all ten arrangements and have them stocked by the time Blakely reappears with another full cart.
“How’d I do?” I ask, closing the cooler door before taking a full step back.
“Not too bad, actually.” She seems a bit surprised by this fact.
“Need I remind you that I did this with you every day after school for years? I’ve had a lot of practice.”
“I remember.” She looks down as she pushes the cart through the shop to the set of coolers to my right. “Though to be honest, it feels like a different life.” She throws me a sad smile.
“Yeah, sometimes it does,” I agree.
We’re silent as we work side by side stocking the remaining two coolers. It isn’t until B slides the last vase onto the shelf that she turns to me.
“I’m sorry.” She shakes her head. “I thought this was a good idea but now I’m not so sure.” She turns, preparing to walk away.
“Hey.” I reach out, wrapping my fingers gently around her forearm to stop her progression. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No.” She blows out a slow breath. “It’s not you. I just... I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“B.” I step up in front of her, my hands going to her face as I guide her gaze up to mine. “It’s me. Just tell me what’s going on.”
“I don’t know. I guess... I guess I just missed you,” she stutters out, her cheeks reddening at her confession.
I can’t fight the smile that takes over my face, or stop myself from stepping in closer.
“Is that so?” I tease, feeling her tense at my nearness.
“Don’t make me regret saying that, Asher.” She huffs.
“Never,” I tell her, my thumb sliding along her bottom lip which causes her to suck in a shaky breath.
“Asher,” she warns.
“Sorry.” I drop my hands and take a full step back. “Sometimes I forget I can’t touch you like that.”
“I know this is hard. But you said...”
“That I want to be friends. And I meant that. But it doesn’t magically make my feelings go away either, B. I can’t turn them off.”
“I know the feeling.” I can tell the instant the words leave her lips that she wishes she could take them back. As much
as I want to call her on it, to push her into telling me exactly what she meant by that, I know in doing so I’ll only end up pushing her further away.
I give her an easy smile and shove my hands into the front pockets of my jeans in an effort to keep myself from reaching out and touching her again.
“What do you say we go get that sandwich now?” I ask, rocking back on my heels.
“Yeah. Okay.” She nods.
Chapter Sixteen
Blakely
“So, how’s Tyler?” Asher asks, leaning back in his chair after polishing off the last of his sandwich.
“He’s good. He’s actually in New York right now,” I say, instantly regretting saying as much.
“So that’s why you invited me to lunch.” Asher crosses his arms in front of his chest.
“That’s not why. I invited you because I wanted to see you. After last weekend, I don’t know. I guess I just really started to think about what you said. About how we were friends first. And you’re right, we were. You were my best friend. And I’ve missed having you in my life. Not just as my boyfriend, but as my friend,” I stutter out nervously.
“Does this mean you forgive me for leaving?”
“I already told you I forgive you.”
“Yeah, but we both know you were just saying that in an attempt to make me go away,” he points out.
“True,” I answer bluntly. “But I am trying to. I’m trying to understand.”
“I’m sorry.” Asher stares at me from across the table and all I want to do is climb into his arms and hold him so tight. “I did what I felt like I had to do to survive. I’m so sorry you got caught in that cross fire. I’m sorry that in my attempt to grieve my father, your life was completely upended. I’m so sorry, B. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to say it enough.”
“What’s done is done.” I force a smile. “We can’t change the past. All we can do is move forward.”
“Speaking of moving forward, I’m going to look at a few houses this afternoon.”
“Wow.” I nod slowly, a little surprised by the news.
“Wow?” Asher eyes me curiously.
“No, I mean, it’s a good thing. I just didn’t expect you to start looking so quickly.”
“I wasn’t originally planning to but it’s time. Mary agreed to go with me so I could have a second opinion. I’ve done so much in my life, but this is the first time I’ve ever bought a house. It feels like a really big deal.”
“It is a big deal.” I swallow past the knot in my throat. “So, Mary’s going with you?” I ask, trying to play it cool.
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t realize you and Mary were that close.” I can’t stop myself from expressing my shock, an unexpected wave of jealousy washing over me.
I know it’s completely unwarranted, especially given the fact that I’m planning to marry another man in a couple of weeks, but the thought of him and Mary together makes my skin crawl.
“Out of everyone in this town, she’s the only person that’s been truly nice to me.” He shrugs. “Which is kind of weird because I always felt like she hated me when we were together.”
“She never hated you. I think she just felt like she had to compete with you,” I say, wondering if maybe I might have misread the situation even then. If Mary had a thing for Asher, certainly I would have known a long time ago... Wouldn’t I have?
“Probably because she did.” He chuckles. “Anyway, I’m meeting her this afternoon. Trisha has a few places lined up for us to walk through.”
“So you’re really doing it?”
“Yep. I’m really doing it.” He reaches across the table, sliding his hand over mine. I look down, sucking in a sharp breath before Asher seems to realize what he’s done. Quickly withdrawing his hand, he gives me a sad smile. “Sorry.” He quickly adds, “I know it’s been six years, but I can’t get used to not being able to touch you.”
“Asher,” I start.
“It’s okay.” He lets out a slow sigh, looking out the large window next to us where Florence’s Flower Shop can be seen perfectly across the street. “I’m guessing you’re probably going to need to head back soon.” He looks back to me.
“Yeah, probably.” I check the time on my phone.
“Have you thought anymore about Sunday?” he asks and I’m honestly surprised it’s taken him this long to bring it up.
“I have.” I pause.
“And?”
I open my mouth to tell him I can’t go, that it’s one thing to ease into this friendship by sharing a meal, but it’s quite another to spend nearly the entire day together. Four hours of which will be spent alone in the car, but for some reason all of the excuses I was prepared to give him die on my tongue.
“Count me in,” I say instead, not able to regret it when that brilliant smile of his lights up his face.
“Seriously?” he questions like maybe I’m messing with him.
“Seriously,” I confirm. “I mean, unless you were hoping I’d say no.” I cock a brow at him.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t expecting you to.”
“I think it’ll be fun,” I say, not sure who I’m trying to convince. Of course it will be fun. The question is, will it be the kind of fun that’s appropriate for a woman who’s getting ready to marry another man to have.
I don’t know if it’s Tyler being out of town, or Asher doing what he always does to me, but I haven’t been able to get him off my mind. It’s been that way since he came back, but this week it feels different. I can’t pinpoint it or even begin to understand where the change occurred, but I find myself wanting to be with him rather than wanting to avoid him.
Like today for example. I told myself a million times not to call him, yet what did I do? I broke down and called him. After checking my phone every minute for the last four days, I couldn’t take it anymore. Inviting him to lunch was my excuse. Truth be told, I felt the overwhelming urge to hear his voice. And even now, even though I know I need to go back to work, I can’t make myself move from this table.
“Me too,” he agrees, pulling me back to the conversation at hand. “We will probably want to get going kind of early. Does nine o’clock sound okay to you? I can pick you up at your place.”
“Nine sounds perfect, but I’d rather meet at my parents’ house, if that’s okay.”
“Don’t want me to see where you live?” he questions.
“It’s not that, I just...”
“You’re afraid that if I know where you live, I’ll show up unannounced. And I’m guessing your fiancé wouldn’t like that all too much.”
“No. I mean yes, but no that’s not it. It just feels wrong having you come to the home I share with Tyler. Like I’m betraying him somehow. I would feel more comfortable if we met at my mom and dads’.”
“And what does Tyler think about you and me spending time together? I’m guessing he can’t be too thrilled about it.”
“It’s fine. He trusts me,” I lie.
I haven’t even told Tyler about dinner at my parents’ yet. I don’t know how I’m going to even begin to explain this. I know I shouldn’t be doing it. I know I should be avoiding Asher at all cost, but it’s like there’s this underlying force that’s driving all my decisions. Even though I pretend to be in control, I’m actually not at all.
I plan to tell Tyler everything when he gets back from New York. If I can convince him that Asher and I are trying to rebuild our friendship, I think he will be supportive. Ty is incredible that way. I’m not saying he won’t be upset that I didn’t tell him everything right away, but I like to think that in the end he’ll accept it because he knows how important Asher was, or is, to me. I never tried to hide that from him or downplay what we had. If anything, sometimes I think I was too honest, which may serve to come back and bite me in the future.
“Well that’s good. If I were him I can’t say this is something I would be okay with.” He gestures between us. “I
f you were mine, the last place I’d want you to be is out spending time with another man.”
“Are you trying to talk me out of going to the beach with you?” I sit back, trying to figure out his play.
“Not at all. I’m just saying, he’s clearly a better man than I am.”
“He’s pretty incredible,” I agree, not missing the hurt that passes over his face for the briefest of moments. “Anyway, so nine on Sunday?” I revert back to what we were originally talking about.
“Yeah. I’ll pick you up at your parents’ house.” He nods, quickly pushing to a stand, the chair legs skidding loudly against the tile floor. “I should let you get back.” He waits for me to stand before dropping some cash on the table.
“Okay,” I agree quietly, a little thrown by his quick change in demeanor.
I wait until we’ve stepped outside and crossed the street before addressing him again. “Hey Asher.”
“Yeah?” He stops, turning to face me.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I’m just sorry.” I shrug, not really sure how to apologize for something I shouldn’t feel the need to apologize for in the first place.
If we’re friends, and that’s really what we’re doing here, I shouldn’t feel guilty for talking about Tyler. But every time he comes up I get this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Oddly enough, I feel like I’m betraying Asher by being with Tyler and not the other way around.
“Hey.” He reaches out and tips my chin up with a gentle nudge before letting his hand fall back down. “Don’t apologize for being happy.”
“I just...”
“Don’t,” he cuts me off. “I’ll see you Sunday, okay?”
“Okay.” I shuffle from one foot to the other, feeling like I should say more, yet having no idea what that should be.
“This was fun.” His easy smile falls into place.
“It was,” I agree, holding my breath when he leans in close.
His lips brush the side of my cheek so softly I’m left wondering if they actually touched me at all, before he pulls away.
“Bye, B.” He winks, turning toward his car seconds later.
Love Me Like You Won't Let Go Page 11
