Page 35 of The Other Side

“Those are my favorite flowers to plant,” I confess.

He bobs his Adam’s apple, our gazes locked. Flashes of bright yellow petals burst between us. Just as the sound of our innocent moans rings against our ears.

I drop my chin, tucking the loose strands of my half-up, half-down hairstyle behind my ears. “I’m actually gonna plant them soon,” I add. “The best time is typically around the beginning of May. If you have some time, maybe you could stop by to see them when they’re fully bloomed.” My head peers up, landing on his secure stare. “I’m not an expert gardener or anything, but I’ve come a long way since I first started.”

My stare runs over him, heart thrusting beneath my chest. But a muted buzz hums from the tabletop, and my eyes plummet to the source.

It’s his phone.

Julia.

His fingers cover the evidence, his thumb clicking the screen off. “Cal⁠—”

The mere mention of my name pops my attention to the adjacent wall.

“I told you I wasn’t in a committed relationship, and that was the truth. It still is,” he defends.

I scoff, my fingers brushing a stray piece of hair from my face. “I’m rambling on and on about stupid sunflowers, and you just sit there and let me do it. It’s the worst kind of rude.”

His hands land on his chest as he leans in. “I’m rude for listening to you speak?” he asks lowly.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

He chucks a laugh, pivoting his head to the side.

My gaze pinches, and now I’m the one staring at him. “Does she know about me? Does she know you’re here with me right now? Huh?”

He wags his head at me, a firm gleam in his hazel eyes. “No.”

“W-why not? Why didn’t you tell her?” I ask, panic glazing my throat. “I can accept the fact that I’m a little dishonest with Jesse, but I won’t accept that from you.” My teeth grit. “Not you.”

“She knows where I stand with her.”

I purse my lips as I drop my eyes. Both my palms cradle my latte, and I scrape up enough courage to continue. “If you were ever going to take a request from me, could you please erase sunflowers from your mind? I’m mortified enough as it is.”

“No, I don’t think so,” he refutes. “A rose? Yes. Lilacs? Sure. But sunflowers?” I lift my head to meet his softened stare. “There’s no other flower like it.”

My eyes well up as I prepare the words I’ve always dreamed of telling him.

I’ve been intimate with a few guys since Brant. In college. After college. Jesse. They came with experience, and the intimacy was satisfying enough, but they never came with sunflowers.

They never came with sunflowers.

“Thank you for giving me a favorite flower.”

His rugged jaw pulses. Our gazes glue under the white lights before he dips his attention between us.

Then he seizes my hand in his to raise our cupped palms. “I got you, Dove.”

My arms snake around the back of his neck as I lift onto the toes of my sneakers. “Thank you, Dove,” I mumble into the nylon of his coat.

And I found someone, out of the entire universe, to defend me with his entire soul.

His hands plant at my lower back. My chest instantly pastes to his steel torso, and I decide that it’s possibly my favorite spot to be. “I got you, Dove,” he murmurs, placing a kiss on the top of my beanie. “Always.”

My heart flutters. Rapidly beating as those words pump every deadened nerve to life inside of me.

He got it right.