Noah: Need to talk about it?
Me: I’m feeling a littleconflicted.
My stomach twists as I send the message, choosing the truth. I don’t want to lie to him, and I know if I do, he’ll call me on my bullshit.
Noah: I figured. Meet for lunch?
Me: I have a busy day today.
Can you come to me?
Noah: Always. See you later, cricket.
I tuck my phone away and grab my drink from the counter. I sip my coffee as I walk the short distance around the block and get the shop open, flipping the sign and turn on all the lights. A wall of dried peonies greets me first, a variety of pinks and whites, and purples hidden in a foliage of green. I need to go through the readymade bouquets sitting in the buckets since a few are wilting, but for the most part of today, I have bespoke orders to complete ready for their collections plus any online orders that have come in overnight for delivery.
Once I have the front of the store cleaned up, I move to the back room where I can focus on my other work, collecting the flowers and fillers I need and place them in the buckets at the side of the desk.
The hours tick by quickly, my fingers turning sore as I work them, but I manage to get four bespoke orders completed as well as two orders that need to be sentout today for delivery. I’m just arranging the courier when I hear the bell above the door jingle.
“Noah?” I call.
His steps thump against the wooden floor as he makes his way back to me, coming to a stop in the doorway to lean against the frame. He looks pristine in his white shirt and black pants; the collar left undone while his mouth curls on one side in a grin that hits me right between my legs.
Jesus.
I’ve always found Noah attractive, not sure there’s a woman in this city who doesn’t think the same way, but now I’ve had a taste of him, that attraction has turned. Morphed into something desperate and needy. A deeper part of me, a part I cannot control, feels tethered to him, and that rope keeps tightening, growing taught as it tries to force me closer. To lose myself in him.
“Hey,” I squeak.
One dark smudge of a brow lifts in amusement, “Feeling a little shy?”
Heat blooms in my cheeks and I stare down at the stem I was working on, removing the thorns. “No.”
His warm chuckle makes the hair on my arms stand, but I don’t look up, not even when I hear his steps cross the room. His presence wraps around me as he comes to a stop behind my stool, his palms flattening on the desk on either side of me, lips at my ear.
“Friends don’t lie to each other.” His voice rolls through me, the vibration of it traveling from his chest and into my spine. My body responds, nipples tightening beneath my shirt, warmth pooling between mythighs. I shift and cross my legs, hoping to ease the ache forming there, pressing my thighs together.
“Let’s talk about it, cricket,” he says. “We can’t move forward with this if you choose to lie.”
Steadying my breath, “Does it feel weird to you?” I turn to look at him, his face so close to mine I can pick out every color in his eyes. He smells damn good, spicy and inviting, making me want to bury my face in his neck to get high on it.
“Weird how?”
“Well, you were inside me less than twelve hours ago.”
His eyes spark, “Hard to forget.”
“We’re okay?” I ask the one thing that has truly been bugging me. I can’t lose Noah.
“Sidney,” he softens, “Nothing changes between us.”
Nodding my head, my eyes dip to his mouth, “Just friends who fuck, right?”
A growling noise vibrates through his chest, “Sidney.”
“Mm?” I lift my eyes back to his, my breath stalling when I see the way he is staring at me. It’s intense and animalistic.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he growls, “It’s hard enough remembering how you looked when you came all over my cock, and right now I am trying to be supportive.”
