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She paused for a moment, then I heard her moving around. “Why was he at your apartment so early? I thought you said he was living on his parents’ ranch?”
“Oh, he is. But he spent the night here last night.”
I heard a loud noise, then Krista cussed. “Fuck! I stubbed my toe. Hold on a second. Ryan stayed at your place last night? Did you guys…? Oh my God, did you finally pop your cherry?”
“No! We didn’t have sex, although I’m thinking he would have been down for it from the feel of his hard-on against my ass when I woke up.”
“Okay, I need to sit down. Start at the goddamn beginning. My head is swimming!”
After I explained everything to Krista, starting with me listening to the stupid podcast and ending with him kissing me goodbye—including the fact that he seemed to be pissed about the mysterious flowers—she was silent for a good minute.
“Are you still there?” I asked.
“I’m processing.”
“I know, it’s a lot.”
“Who sent the flowers?”
I pulled my head back in surprise. “After all of that, you’re wondering who sent the flowers?”
“Yeah. You don’t find it strange that someone sent you flowers?”
Shrugging even though she couldn’t see me, I replied, “Maybe they forgot to sign the card.”
“Maybe, but it sounds kind of odd to me.”
“Have you been listening to a crime podcast?”
Krista laughed. “No. Did you think about calling the florist?”
“Actually, no, I hadn’t thought of that,” I said as I slipped on a pair of jeans. “That’s a good idea.”
“That’s what I’m here for. Then, I think you need to invite Ryan over for dinner.”
“Dinner?” I repeated. “Are you serious?”
“Yes! Girl, it’s clear the guy has feelings for you. He raced to your place last night, he stayed the night with you, no questions asked, and what did you say he said to you before leaving?”
The memory of his words came rushing back to me, and I felt a warm sensation float through my body. Clearing my throat, I repeated, “He said it wasn’t hard waking up next to me.”
“He’s all but telling you how he feels about you.”
Laughing, I put the phone on speaker and set it down while I pulled a shirt over my head. “Krista, no one wants to believe that more than I do, but I’m tired of waiting for something to happen between us.”
“Exactly. That’s why you need to pull your grown-up panties on, go buy a hotter-than-hell dress, and ask him to dinner. It’s the modern world now, Morgan. Women ask men out all the time. Hell, I asked a guy out last night—and he’s still in my bed right now.”
I closed my eyes and shook my head. “You mean you swiped right?”
“I’m sorry, you have me confused with Heather. I didn’t meet him online. We met at…well, it doesn’t matter where I met him.”
Grabbing my mascara, I swiped some on then pinched my cheeks to bring some color into them. I didn’t have time to do my full makeup routine this morning. “You have to tell me where you met him now!” I giggled as I did a quick walk around the apartment to make sure nothing was on before I left.
“It’s not important.”
“It is if you refuse to tell me.”
Krista let out a long sigh. “Fine. I met him at a singles church group dinner thing. My mother forced me to go, and apparently his mother forced him as well. We only hooked up out of spite for them. But the guy did this one thing with his tongue…and holy hell.”
I groaned. “Ugh! No! Don’t say another word or I’ll gag. The last thing I need is to hear you describe your sex life. Especially when I don’t have one.”
“I’m simply saying, you could if you took the leap,” Krista said with a hint of teasing in her voice.
I knew she was right. And I had a feeling if I did ask Ryan out, he’d say yes.
“A hotter-than-hell dress, you say?” I mused, setting my alarm before I slipped out the door of my apartment and down the steps. Suddenly, my plans for today had changed. After working on designs for a bit and checking on the progress of the store, I was going shopping…for a new dress.
I watched the workers put a new window in with Georgiana right next to me.
“I’m surprised they were able to get it replaced so fast,” I said, shaking my head a bit.
“I think that had something to do with your father.”
Glancing at her, I asked, “What do you mean?”
“When they told me it would take a week to replace the window, he made one phone call and…well—” she motioned to the men working—“we have a window.”
My brows shot up, and I exhaled. “I guess it pays to have a well-known dad.”
Georgiana chuckled, but then her expression turned serious.
