A text comes through, and I check my phone.
Boston: I’m doing some work today with Crave. You should come meet them.
Crave is one of my favourite bands, but there’s no way I’m going to go meet them. That would send the wrong signal to Boston. I decide to ignore his text, hoping he might take me more seriously.
“Why are you suddenly looking stressed?” Sienna asks.
I hold up my phone. “Boston. He invited me to meet Crave today. I just wish he’d get the message that we’re over.”
“Crave! Holy shit! I’ll go. I wanna get my Jett on.” Jett’s the lead singer, and Sienna’s had a slight infatuation with him for years.
“Settle down, Jett’s getting married. You’re out of luck there, babe. What about Van?”
“Ugh, that’s right. I keep reading all about the plans they’re making for their wedding. Presley this, and Presley that. I wanna vomit at how perfect they seem for each other. But I don’t think Van’s my type. If I couldn’t have Jett, I think I’d have to choose Hunter.”
I laugh. “You do know that the stuff you read in those magazines is rubbish, right?”
“Don’t burst my bubble, Lorelei. According to what I read yesterday, Hunter is looking for a woman, and he has this thing for blondes. I could totally be who he’s looking for. You know I’ve always had a thing for drummers.”
Before I can respond to that, a delivery guy knocks on our door. He’s holding a huge bunch of red roses. Glancing between us, he asks, “Either of you Lorelei Winters?”
“Wow,” Sienna murmurs. “The man doesn’t muck around when he sends flowers.”
I take the flowers. “Thanks.”
As the guy leaves, Sienna says, “There has to be at least a hundred roses in that bouquet.”
I pull the card out of the envelope.
Lorelei, I’m sorry for being an asshole. Please forgive me.
My tummy does somersaults. No man has ever sent me flowers after an argument. It’s not so much the flowers that mean so much to me, but rather the fact he’s making an effort.
I grab a vase out of the cupboard and arrange them in it. “I’m going to call him now and talk this through.” I don’t want to wait for him to reach out. If I could, I’d go to him so we could discuss it in person, but I have an appointment in an hour that I need to finish preparing for.
“No need. I’m here.” Ashton’s deep voice sounds from the doorway.
I turn to find him coming my way. His eyes burn with determination. I can’t deny it—as much as he sometimes pushes me to places I’m not sure I want to be pushed, this fierce drive of his is one of the things I like about him the most.
“I’m just going to pop out for a bit and leave you two alone,” Sienna calls out, but neither Ashton nor I respond. He’s on a mission, and I’m held captive by it.
“Thank you for the roses,” I say softly, suddenly feeling unsure of this conversation.
He comes all the way to me. “I didn’t come to discuss flowers, Lorelei. I came to apologise in person. I won’t make the mistake of taking over and not thinking about your feelings again.” He closes the tiny distance between us and snakes his arm around my waist to hold me close. “But you need to understand that the best way to deal with a disagreement like this is not to run from me.”
His commanding tone and bossy words snap me out of the spell I’m under. Pressing against his chest, I say, “I appreciate the apology, but not the directive that went along with it. If I need a time-out, I need it, so don’t come here telling me how to deal with a situation.”
God, can the man be any more arrogant?
He refuses to budge, not allowing even a small gap between us. His hold on me tightens. “I’m not telling you that you can’t have your space. What I am telling you, though, is that I don’t like leaving a disagreement hanging between us when we’re apart from each other. Next time this kind of thing happens, have your time-out, but do it under the same roof. And when you’ve calmed down, come to me so we can fix it then rather than waiting the night.”
It’s in moments like this that I wonder about my mental state. One minute I’m irritated with him because of his arrogance, the next, my irritation is completely gone. I often swing between emotions with Ashton, and that’s not something I’ve experienced with a man before. My emotions have pretty much always remained steady when I’m with someone.
Steady and a little boring.
Not a moment with Ashton is steady or boring.
Grasping his shirt, I say, “How do you always get away with being arrogant and bossy?”