Page 211 of When a Soul Cries

The flower shop was only a few minutes from Sugga’s house. I’d been inside less than fifteen minutes, but it felt longer because I didn’t know shit about flowers.

Give me contracts, property, negotiations, millions of dollars—I was good.

Put me between roses, lilies, peonies, and whatever the hell else they had in there, and suddenly I needed adult supervision.

Eventually, I picked an arrangement that reminded me of Sol.

Pretty. Soft.

But not fragile.

I paid and headed outside, adjusting the flowers in my hand as I crossed the parking lot. I was almost to my SUV when a familiar voice stopped me.

“Rome?”

My jaw tightened before I even turned around.

Ulani.

Of fucking course.

She stood several feet away with sunglasses pushed into her honey-blonde hair. Her green eyes moved from my face to the arrangement in my hand, lingering on the flowers long enough for one perfectly shaped eyebrow to lift.

“Well, damn.”

I turned away and continued toward my SUV.

“Rome.”

“Not today, Ulani.”

The sharp click of her heels followed me across the pavement.

“Who are those for?”

I didn’t slow down. “None of your business.”

“So there is somebody?”

That made me stop.

I turned slowly and found her standing a few feet behind me, arms folded beneath her chest like she had some right to question me.

“What part of leave me the fuck alone are you having trouble understanding?”

Her lips tightened. “You don’t have to talk to me like that.”

“Yes, I do, because apparently talking nice ain’t working.”

I turned away again.

Then her fingers closed around my arm.

Every muscle in my body tightened.

I spun around and caught her wrist.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”