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“Peach blossom, green carnations, white jonquil, white pansy, and a kumquat tree.”
Robbie laughed, but he shook his head. “That’s oddly specific.”
“Yeah, I don’t like your chances,” Lina mumbled. “Oh, wait. They can do commissions or requests.”
“Do it.”
“It’s going to be fairly exxy.”
“It’s fine.” He’s totally worth it. But that also probably meant I wouldn’t be getting them this week. “If there’s a wait, I might have to make him some more paper flowers in the interim.”
Robbie sighed. “My god, you really do have it bad.”
I shot him a glare. “How are your origami skills?”
Chapter Ten
Linden
Keats was so stinking cute.He was so undeniably adorable and thoughtful, and every day that passed was a day I fell harder into love.
Because over the course of the week, our test results came in.
On Tuesday, the syphilis and gonorrhoea results arrived in our inbox, and he sent me two neatly folded almond blossom paper flowers. Negative, for us both.
The note with it read,Almond blossom for a promise.
On Wednesday, the hepatitis results came in and he sent me a tiny origami white flower.
White heather for strengththe note read.
Then on Friday, the chlamydia results arrived, and he sent me a yellow origami blossom.Celandine for the joys to come in our future, the handwritten note read.
All our tests so far were negative and while I was not surprised, I was still relieved.
He’d come to my place on Wednesday and he’d grinned, pleased with himself when I showed him the small botanical display of paper flowers.
“You like them?” he’d asked.
“I love them,” I’d replied. “I’ll need to find a better way to display them, maybe get a glass case. But they’re my absolute favourite thing in the world.”
He’d wrapped me up in a slow hug and breathed me in, simply content to hold me. He never hinted at more, never pushed for sex, not since the condom incident. It wasn’t any kind of big deal, and I was more than happy to spend the night curled up on the couch with him, eating takeout and watching funny TV shows.
But on Friday when he knocked on my door, I’d barely gothelloout before he stepped inside and collected me for a hug. The kind of hug that slotted us together, two halves of the one whole. Slow and unhurried, no urgency, no desperation, just a ‘god, I missed you’ hug.
“You okay?” I mumbled into his neck.
“Hm,” he replied, pulling back and lifting my chin so he could crush his mouth to mine in a filthy kiss. He pulled my body to his, flush and hard in all the right places, then he pushed me up against the wall near the door.
“Was a week too long?” I asked, when we broke for air.
He stopped kissing my neck. “I’m trying to take it slow.”
I ran my hands down over his arse and ground our hips together. “And how’s that working out for you?”
His breath was half groan, half chuckle. “Poorly. And I was doing so well until you opened the door.”
I pushed him back a fraction and pinched his chin. “After all the paper flower gifts you sent me this week, you’re gonna be having a lot of sex this weekend, so if you wanted to start now, I would not be opposed.”
