Page 77 of First Comes Love


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And even if I can’t do more than stare at Minette across the room, it might be better than thinking about her while I’m alone in my apartment all night with my hand around my dick.

“Yeah…alright. I’ll be there. I’ll head up when I get home from work.”

“See ya then.”

I grab my jacket and head out the door. Thanks to Alyse, I have plenty of time to run down to my studio and get a solid day in if I don’t fuck around too much.

I still walk past the flower shop on the way, though.

Can’t hurt to have a peek.

Two

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Minette

I love starting work early. The grey, quiet dawn pulls around me as I walk down the street.

The shop is always so beautifully still, I can almost hear the flowers speak to me.

I always dispose of the older flowers first. It’s a sad job, but I like to know they have been mulched and donated to local gardens for compost. Then I receive my orders of fresh flowers and spend my morning organizing bouquets and arrangements.

This used to just be a hobby until Mom and Dad died. Now I work each flower arrangement with a desperate calm.

Like if I bring order to these flowers, I can somehow bring order to my life. If I see beauty, beauty will know me.

Since my parents’ death, nothing seems to really affect me anymore.

I did my crying and screaming. I told the world it wasn’t fair. It didn’t care.

While in my shop, I have some sense of peace. At home, in the big empty apartment, there’s only silence and my own whispering thoughts.

It’s almost 8 a.m. so I open my doors. Just up the street, I see that guy Andy who lives in The Bradford.

I think he’s friends with Evan, who has been going out with my friend Emilia…well, kind of going out.

I linger by the door, fussing with some small, dried flower arrangements. Andy runs his hand through his hair, eyes focused on a newspaper. His black hair curls around his neck and the line of his collar.

He’s wearing grey slacks and a white business shirt that’s open at the neck.

His pale green eyes flick up from the paper and look right at me. I freeze. We’re only about ten feet apart, him on the street near the trash can, and me safe behind my window glass.

It’s like the world falls away, and the silence that usually rings in my ears takes over the noise of the busy street.

It’s as if Andy and I are the only two people on earth.

I feel a sweet tingle between my legs, and I start blushing furiously, looking back down at my flowers. I used to be a party girl, but not anymore.

I can’t disturb the silence inside my mind too much. I can’t connect with people. I just think they can’t possibly understand what I’ve been through.

I want the kind of love that makes me feel secure. Like I can trust the world. Like I can let myself be happy.

I can feel hot tears brimming in my eyes. I look away quickly, trying to distract myself. Andy isn’t at the edge of the street anymore.

He’s walking towards me.

I pause in the doorway, a smile springing on my lips. I wish I was wearing something a bit sexier—not just a floral t-shirt dress and comfy flats.

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