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I huffed out a breath. “This is the last time. I swear. Because I have a plan.”
“Uh huh, right.” Clearly not believing me, he nodded and sent me a knowing smirk. “Whatever you say, Gabs. But I think you like him wooing you.”
“Ugh. Definitely not.” Not him, anyway. “How was school?” I countered, ready to change the subject. “Did you have your spelling test today?”
“Yep,” he answered. “It was fine. But guess what?” He brightened as he added, “Dawson tried to burp the alphabet at recess but threw up on Hailey Market’s shoes instead. It was awesome. Then Ethan ran faster in gym than James—though neither of them could beat me—which no one thought was possible. And Phoebe got in trouble during library when she lifted her dress, and everyone saw her Shopkins underwear.”
He rattled on about fourth grade drama the rest of the way home, which helped ease my conscience that he was okay after all. Maybe he wasn’t going to have a relapse.
At home, I helped him with his math facts and one-minute fluency reading, then I peeked into Papá’s room, checking on him. He waved me off, grumbling something about being fine before I could even ask as he watched some tattooing show on the television. So I left him be.
Miguel had already gotten onto his tablet and was playing some game with annoying repetitive music, so I felt secure about leaving the apartment.
“Hey, I’m going to pop out for a minute. If you need anything, get Papá or call my cell, okay?”
He tossed out a distracted-sounding okay, which told me he probably wouldn’t move from that spot for at least an hour or more. But I hurried out the door, still worried and hoping I wasn’t making a mistake about leaving him alone with Papá, even for a brief spell.
Thank goodness Rosewood was located near our building; it only took me a few minutes to reach it.
All the way there, though, I let myself grow more and more upset over Diego’s persistence.
It was a good thing I’d never fallen victim to his charms, because the guy toyed with women’s emotions. I wasn’t even a person to him, just a conquest to be won. He cared nothing about me or my hopes and dreams. As soon as he would’ve gotten what he wanted from me, he would’ve abandoned me like yesterday’s trash, caring nothing about any pain or heartache he might’ve caused. It was disgusting. I mean, how did guys like him make it through every day without constantly getting kicked in the nuts? He wasn’t even being romantic with the flowers. This honestly was bordering on harassment.
Good and pissed by the time I made it to the flower shop, I bulldozed my way inside, ready to kick ass and take names.
Inside, the sweet smell of flora instantly enveloped me. Light, calming background music played from speakers, and the man at the counter seemed friendly and personable as he checked out a purchase for two customers.
I ignored the two women paying for their items and narrowed my eyes on the man as I marched forward to slap the bouquet onto the counter in front of him. When the roses kind of exploded, leaves and petals spraying everywhere, I cringed, not expecting quite that much flair.
The man, who’d been in the middle of ringing up a purchase, jumped and turned to me.
He blinked, then lowered his gaze to the bouquet before he immediately brightened. “Hey, those are our flowers.”
“I know.” Scowling, I folded my arms over my chest. “I read your store’s label on the ribbon. That’s why I’m here.”
Finally catching on to my mood, he frowned with a sense of worry. “Is there a problem with them?”
“No,” I muttered. Dammit, he was being too nice. He wasn’t supposed to be so nice. It was going to make my anger look all unjustified and ugly. Ugh. ?
?They’re absolutely gorgeous,” I reluctantly agreed. Then I stiffened my spine and announced, “So I want you to stop selling them to the bastard who keeps giving them to me.”
Chapter 10
Gabby
“Oh!” The flower shop cashier pulled back in surprise. “I’m sorry.” He looked truly sympathetic when he asked, “Did you guys not make up this time?”
“Make up?” I shook my head, frowning at him. “This time? What the fuck are you talking about? There was no making up, because we’ve never been together.” I pointed insistently toward the roses. “These aren’t apology flowers. They’re a bundle full of I-want-you guilt trip from a guy who won’t take no for an answer.”
“Ooh,” a voice cooed from next to me. “That’s bad.”
And another echoed, “Real bad.”
I whirled to find that the two customers who’d been paying for their purchases were openly listening in on my complaint.
Then I jolted when I realized I actually knew one of them, and she lived in the same building as me. “Kaitlynn! Hey. What’re you doing here?”
And why didn’t you answer your damn door on Halloween night to help a desperate girl out, huh? I didn’t add.
