Up in Flames (Rosemary Beach 13)

Her face was emotionless as she stood there with her red hair blowing off her face in the Gulf breeze. The fire in her eyes that I used to see every time she looked at me was gone. The attraction that sparked when our eyes met no longer lingered. She meant every word she’d just said. She wasn’t trying to hurt me or get a reaction out of me.

“I want to go into my house, take a shower, and watch TV. Alone. Please leave. Don’t come back unless you’re invited. I’m moving past this and you. My heart is no longer in it. The game we were playing is done. I’m ready to live life without you. I wasn’t before, but I am now. Enjoy all your girls and all your silly games with someone else. It won’t be hard to find another female who’s stupid enough to adore you with nothing in return. That’s what you need to stroke your ego, so go find it. Because you won’t find it here anymore.”

Nan stepped around me, then glanced back at the flowers in my hand and took them. She held them up and smirked. “These are a weak and cliché way to smooth things over. Next time you attempt to play with a woman’s heart, try the big-boy approach, and don’t spend your money on silly flowers that mean nothing. Jesus, what did I ever really see beyond your pretty face?” With that final insult, she tossed the flowers onto the ground and went into the house.

When the door clicked closed behind her, I stood there, unsure what to do next. That hadn’t been what I’d expected. I’d thought she’d yell or cry. I figured the roses weren’t enough, but maybe they would soften her up so I could talk to her. But she’d left me speechless. I had no words to respond to the hateful things she’d said to me. That side of Nan I had never seen. I’d heard about it but never witnessed it.

My chest felt hollow, and yet there was a sharp pain where she’d shot me right there in the center of it. No woman had ever spoken to me that way. But then again, I’d never met a woman like Nan before. I reached down to the pebbled ground to pick up the roses she’d tossed aside so heartlessly.

If she weren’t a job, I could walk away and forget her. I didn’t have to take this abuse. I didn’t have to let her hurt me. But she was a job. She had begun as a job, and she would finish as a job. I couldn’t let my feelings for Nan cloud my vision right now.

Nan

I wasn’t going to sit and sulk in front of the TV any longer. Binge-watching One Tree Hill on Netflix all day yesterday was enough. Today I would need to run off all the popcorn, string cheese, and peanut butter crackers I’d eaten since my run-in with Major. Then I was going to see if I could take Nate to the park. Both things would help get my mind off Gannon and my pathetic existence.

Dressed in spandex shorts and a Lululemon sports bra, I headed out to the beach to run until my legs no longer worked. I wasn’t as tight and muscular as I wanted to be. But when a girl liked her peanut butter crackers and milk as a bedtime snack, it was hard not to have little soft areas on her body. My new goal was to fix that. I might not be perfect, but I’d damn well try my hardest.

Major

He didn’t call me. He never called me. He just showed the fuck up when I didn’t want to see him. Which was always.

“She’s been home for three days, and you still haven’t made any progress. Did you seriously think roses would fucking win Nan over? This isn’t a damn romance novel. Goddammit, man, think.”

I took a drag off the cigarette in my hand before looking up at the man standing in front of me. He was beyond annoyed. He was pissed as hell, and I was about to be out of a job. Maybe I needed to be out of this job. Maybe this shit wasn’t for me.

“Women love roses,” I replied, wondering if this was true or if he was right and that sort of gesture only worked in romance novels and movies and shit.

“Women fucking pretend they like flowers. Men like the idea that they can please them by buying them something so damn easy. But women are complicated as fuck. They don’t want flowers. They want thought. They want sacrifice. They want to own you. They don’t fucking want flowers that’ll just rot and die in a few days.”

This guy got Nan to fall for him, and he thought that made him the damn Einstein of women. What the fuck ever.

“Here, take these.” He handed me six envelopes, each a different color: blue, purple, pink, cream, mint, and yellow. “When I text you, you’ll go to where I tell you and give her the color envelope I instruct. Then just walk away. Don’t try to talk to her. Don’t try to charm her with your idiotic looks. She’s over it.”

He turned to leave, and I looked down at the envelopes. “What’s in them?” I asked, confused but ready to try anything.

He paused. “A man’s apology.”

Then he left.

Five minutes later, I got the text.

Walk to the beach in front of your apartment complex. When you see her, give her the pink envelope.

Nan

I hadn’t been paying attention to my surroundings, or I would have seen him and turned around. The music playing in my ears was drowning out the world, and I’d been focused on pushing myself one more mile. This was the sixth mile, but I intended to run ten today just to numb myself.

But he was there in front of me, on the beach, right in my path. I had to come to a stop or run over him. There was a good chance he’d chase after me anyway, and I’d rather remind him one more time that I wanted him out of my life.

I was pulling out my wireless Beats earbuds when I realized he was holding out a pink envelope. I reached for it. Once I had the smooth, heavy stationery between my fingertips, he let go and walked away without a word. What the hell? I looked down at the envelope and then back up at him as he walked up the path toward the street.