On reflex I stepped backwards, bumping the nearby table. The sound of water sloshing made us both stop in our tracks. In slow motion, I watched a bucket topple over the edge, right towards Abell.

He tried to jump back, but he wasn't ready; the water spilled across the front of his shirt. “Shit!” he shouted.

“Oh no!” Cringing, I let my hands bob in the air, too unsure what to do with them. “I'm so sorry! I didn't even see that bucket!”

He stretched his arms, pulling the soaked cloth across his chest. The water had turned his shirt transparent, dark ink and hard muscles peeking through. The perfection of his body among all the beautiful flowers was like some high-fashion modeling ad.

Catching my breath, I stared straight at his stomach, following the dip of his abdominals into the top of his jeans. The edge of his briefs were visible, tattoos vanishing beneath the elastic band.

I knew exactly what it looked like under there.

Why the hell did I want to see it again?

“Hey,” he chuckled. “My eyes are up here.”

Flushing, I looked around frantically for a towel. “Uh, let me find something to dry you off with.”

“It's fine. You didn't get my jacket, just the shirt.” He shrugged out of the jacket, then tugged the soaked shirt over his head, exposing his bare skin. Ever so casually, he nodded towards the front of the store. “I'll just zip it over me so I can walk out of here. Unless you prefer this look?”

I was gawking again, but I didn't need him to point it out. Stumbling on my tongue, I said, “Sure. I mean, um, your jacket. Right. It should be fine!” Get it together! But how could I? Abell was impossibly sexy, and he was within touching distance.

If I reached out, I could run my palm right down his chest. Would it be warm, or cool from the water?

He stepped close to me, and the floral cloud was broken by the pine and maple scent that came off of him. “Did you want something, Nix? Something from me?”

My heart floated up, filling my throat. “No,” I managed to croak. “Nothing.”

The corner of his mouth moved upwards. “The future owner of Halloway Inc shouldn't be such a liar. It's bad for business.” Abell's hand cupped my cheek, and where he touched, heat bloomed.

In my ears, the drums pounded. My cells were buzzing, my body eager to climb onto his. I wanted to rub against him, I knew he'd be hard and soft all at once.

Kiss him, my body demanded. It'd be so easy; he was right there, inches away, he...

“Excuse me!” The florist shouted, rounding the corner. “Why is he stripping?”

Retreating so fast I bumped the table again, I stared at the woman with my eyes bugging out. I knew I looked guilty—I felt guilty! What was I doing? What had I almost done?

My mouth fell open. “He isn't stripping!”

Abell grinned, reaching down to brush the button of his jeans. “I could, if you two want.”

I wished I could find a big crack in the ground and crawl into it. Maybe I'd grow back as a weed! Weeds couldn't be humiliated!

The florist crossed her arms, her face a puckered knot. “I think you should tell me what flowers you want. Then you should leave.”

“I'm so sorry,” I stammered, shooting a fierce glare at Abell. “I'll keep him on a leash next time.”

His smile went ear to ear, boyish and amused.

He's trying to be charming. Flicking my eyes up and down his exposed tattoos, I shivered as if I was the one covered in icy water. Fuck. He IS charming. Abell was inching his way past the barrier I'd set up in my heart.

And I hated it. All of it.

You should know better. Don't be so naive! I had to be strong, cold, disconnected.

Why did he have to make it so hard?

“Miss,” the florist snapped.

“Oh.” Startling, I scanned the rows of flowers all around us. “Right, sorry. The ones I want are...” Different petals flew through my vision; every shape, every color, for any occasion. I knew nothing about weddings, how did I narrow down my choices?

Something bright caught my eye.

That's it. That's the one.

Abell's words had influenced me. Last time that had happened, we'd nearly kissed in my kitchen. He's dangerous, I reminded myself. He's using you!

Even knowing all of that, my heart still went fuzzy when I heard Abell inhale sharply.

He'd realized which flower I was picking.

Reaching out, I brushed the shiny green stem. “Here,” I whispered. “This one.”

The blue tulip was cool to the touch.

- Chapter Seven -

Abell

Nix was silent as we left the florist.

Was she feeling the same distorting bundle of emotions that I was?

Looking down on her, how the winter sun turned her hair into copper, I tried to see into her head. I failed, fucking obviously, but I still tried. Willing myself to become psychic was as likely as her spilling her guts to me.

The incident in that greenhouse had left me stunned. Not the water, not how she'd eaten up the view of me as my shirt soaked through. Nix had listened to my wistful murmur about a damn flower.

She'd listened.

To me.

Only one other person had ever done that.

My jacket was chilly against my bare skin. I'd zipped it up, carrying my damp shirt in a tight ball in the crook of my elbow. Across the street, the mall looked like someone had vomited tinsel and ribbon all over it. Christmas is in the air, I mused.

She was looking at her feet, at the clouds, at anything except me. The car was gone; she noticed, digging out her phone to call the driver back.

“Wait,” I said, waving my hand. Nix froze in mid-dial. “Don't call yet.”

“Why not? We're done out here.”

Flipping my wet shirt at her, she caught it just before it hit the ground. “Not quite, Sugar. You owe me a new, preferably dry, shirt.”

Gripping the soggy fabric, her eyebrows crawled as high as they could. I was waiting for her to argue, I had a whole spiel ready to counter her.

Nix tucked her hair behind her ear, marching over the crosswalk towards the mall. “Nothing too expensive, okay?”

She didn't even try and disagree with me. My sneakers skidded over the pavement behind her. “Are you feeling alright?”

Dodging the seasonal crowd, she held the mall door open for me. “Of course. Why?”

“Well. You're not being difficult, for a change.”

Her lashes fluttered rapidly. “Are you trying to politely call me a bitch?”

Laughing in my throat, I walked ahead of her through the busy mall. “Never say I don't have tact.”

Her heels clicked violently across the hard marble. Under her breath, she muttered, “It's not me being weird, it's you.”

“What was that?” I asked.

“Nothing.” Pulling up short, she grabbed my elbow and tugged me into a store. The sensation of her fingers gripping me lifted a wave of heat through my center. “In here, they have good clothing.”

It was a brightly lit shop, the tall front windows painted with giant gold and black crowns. Cabo Street, I thought, recognizing the store. Nix had good taste, though that didn't shock me.

From the start, she'd made a point of dressing in fine clothing. She was almost obsessed with how she looked, to the neurotic point of fussing over her hair when we'd been fucking.

Even her underwear is classy, I thought, remembering the shiny lavender lingerie.

“Abell, look at this one.” She was fingering the hem of a dark red shirt. As I got closer, she spread it out, showing me the golden design along the arms. “Nice, right?”

Brushing my hand over the material, I nodded. “Soft. I like soft things against my skin.”

She bit the edge of her mouth, her laugh nervous. “Of course you do. Want to try it on?”