Page 16 of He Loves Me Lots


Font Size:  

“There we go!” she says aloud, admiring her handiwork with a little nod and a small smile of satisfaction.

I can feel my already pounding pulse quicken some more, knowing it’s almost time to reach out and take the flowers, anxiously anticipating to chance a touch from those fingers against mine.

Now, it feels like that’s all it would take to make the volcano in my pants erupt and get down on all fours with her. Right fucking here in the store and howl like a wild animal in front of these elderly rain walkers.

But my overprotective feelings for her are matched by the need to go slow. I almost ruined it once. There’s too much at stake to risk it again.

“How much do I owe you?” I hear myself ask, noticing that her own look and tone are different somehow. Like she’s all business or something.

Or maybe really just not interested. She’s a people person, and I see that.

Maybe I’m just having some midlife crisis, wanting to be twenty again because my hormones are all outta whack. I read about it somewhere recently.

“Oh, these are on the house,” she says quickly, making me give her a sidelong glance.

Glad to see that smile of hers again, but I didn’t come back for flowers. If I have to buy her entire store out every day just to get to see her, I will. However, I won’t be expecting a handout either.

“It’s fine,” she assures me, signaling to the line of ladies who’ve picked their dollar plants that she’s coming.

“Your friend’s bunch kinda paid for these, I’d say…,” she shrugs.

She holds them out to me, but I miss her hand somehow as she passes the bunch to me.

One final brief look from her tells me I’ve blown it again somehow. How did that happen?

She looks strong, though. Nothing wrong with that. It’s the kind of brave face someone puts on when they don’t want to show their true feelings.

Which leads me straight back to the “you’re just too old for her, James” theory I’ve had buzzing in my frontal lobe since I first set eyes on her.

I watch her move to the other end of the counter. Those three feet feel like a thousand miles.

And hopelessly, shamelessly staring at her fine ass and body from behind, I stand and look as long as I can before it’s clear I’d be making a scene if I stayed.

Again, it’s that big guy thing. A gigantic man just standing staring at people? They don’t like it. And I can tell Jasmine’s intentionally avoiding my eyes. I’m not sure why.

But I can feel her body calling… loud and clear.

She needs me, even if she doesn’t want me. I do know she needs me as much as I need her,but that’s not a decision I can make for her.

Not many twenty-year-old boys would have that thought. But age, wisdom… call it whatever you want. I still need to respect Jasmine’s decision about whether she’s interested in me.

Maybe I did just get the wrong end of the stick? Easily enough done with someone so perfect.

Seeing how bright and cheerful she is with her customers, it’s clear she’s in a league of her own—as a person, not just a florist, either.

Using the flowers to cover what I know is going to be a problem, I leave the tiny florist shop for the second time today.

It’s still raining cats and dogs, and the last place I feel like being is farther away from Jasmine. So, noticing the little coffee place right next door, I feel a little stirring of the legal professional in me. I need to grab a mug and do what I should’ve done while watching her building last night.

Get clear on how to go about this. Formulate a plan. Arrange my briefs.

How can I present a case, let alone win one with Jasmine, if I don’t even have one?

And speaking of arranging my briefs… I wonder if this place has a bathroom…

Someone needs to adjust a few things, so I don’t look like I’ve got a canoe stuffed down my pants.

I squeeze into a wooden chair by the door and notice how empty the place is. I shift more of myself under the table, trying to conceal the problem in my pants.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
Articles you may like