We went inside the flower shop, and I was immediately hit be floral, earthy scents. Plants hung off the walls, and people were wandering about through long, tall aisles.
There was some way that being around a bunch of plants like this always sort of muffled the noise, and it was like there was a magical tingling in the air.
Oliver was in front of me, walking down one of the aisles like he had been in here a thousand times and already knew where to go.
My eyes lingered on the edges of his hair, watching how his high-fade blended into his neck. Then I couldn’t stop myself from lingering on the roundness of his ears, then traced down the curve of his neck. The back of his neck was pristine as it plunged into his back.
I wanted to pull down the back of his collar and look at his naked back, maybe run my tongue down it…
The foreign thought startled me, and I had to shake my head to get it out of my mind.
We got to the back of the store, where it was even more jungle-y. Vines were pouring down from the shelves, and the quiet tingling in the air intensified.
It felt… intimate. And being with only Oliver here was causing all kinds of confused feelings to swirl around within me.
“What’s the password?” he asked me, flashing his bright smile.
“It’s… uh…” I said, totally lost for words at seeing his beautiful grin. “I remember looking it up earlier. It’s the word for my favorite flower, irises…”
“Oh, iridi,” Oliver said.
“You know Italian?” I asked.
“Yeah…” he said, but his eyes went down as if he was embarrassed.
I mentally bookmarked that for later.
There was an old man at the back of the shop whose face looked like an Easter Island Head brought to life. He looked like he’d never smiled a day in his life, and had his arms crossed protectively over his chest.
“Do you think we have to tell it to him?” Oliver whispered in my ear.
I shuddered as his words tickled my senses. “We can try.”
Before I could step towards the man who had his brown eyes keenly trained on us, Oliver took a few steps towards him.
He started saying things in Italian, the words flowing together like it was some kind of spell.
The old man responded in kind.
I watched in wonder, completely lost. Though, I couldn’t help that I was starting to feel some admiration for Oliver. He had access to this part of the world — this culture — that I didn’t.
It was fascinating. Though, I couldn’t put my finger on why I felt fascinated.
At the end of their exchange, I only caught one word: Iridi.
At that, the old man smiled a toothy grin, turned, and parted some vines like a curtain. Behind them was a door.
“That’s it,” I said breathlessly.
“Well, let’s go bitch about our exes then,” Oliver said with a grin.
Chapter Eleven
The door opened up to a small, charming little bar. My eye was immediately drawn to the shelves behind the bar, holding variously-colored bottles of liquor like they were jewels. Plants hung from the ceiling, colorful paintings were on the walls, and marble sculptures of naked men dotted the room.
“This is… incredible,” I said, taking it all in.
“It’s okay,” Oliver said haughtily, crossing his arms. “It’s still not like New York.”
I frowned. Even though I knew it was only a matter of time before his attitude came back, I had no idea it would come back so quickly.
Wordlessly, I went up to the bar to get away from him. He followed.
A few minutes later, we were sitting at one of the tables in the darkness underneath a curtain of vines. Three cute little candles were on the table in front of us, and the soft lighting made him look even more attractive.
Oliver swirled his drink — something that resembled a bright pink Manhattan.
I looked down at mine, a bright green concoction in a jeweled goblet.
“So, you just heard me break up with someone,” he said finally, addressing the elephant in the room.
“I did,” I said carefully, trying to read his face.
He was watching me just as carefully.
I was quiet and waited for him to continue. There was a pause in the air as I waited for him to speak, but I couldn’t deny that there was energy between us. The longer we were quiet, the more of a charge it got.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore; I couldn’t take those green eyes sussing me out like that. “Well, cheers to being single,” I said, clinking my glass to his.
His face pulled into a grin. “So you are single,” he said.
Something in the way he said that tugged at my curiosity like undoing a shoelace. “What do you mean by that? Was it ever a question?”
I took a sip of the green liquid, the bittersweet licorice taste swirling in my mouth.
“Someone’s been asking,” he said, raising an eyebrow.
I glared at him. Just like with Mason, Oliver enjoyed being the keeper of secrets.
“Who?” I asked, taking the bait.
“Just… people,” he said. “You know how they are around here — everyone loves to gossip.”
“Not me,” I lied.
“Bullshit. You’re the worst kind; you’re a secret gossip,” he said.
I was careful not to change my expression; careful not to let the truth leak out. “What do you know?”
“I know Mason’s been asking you all sorts of questions about Alina, and you know about that whole mess.”
“I don’t know anything,” I said, sliding my eyes over to one of the naked statues. Again, I thought of the scene tomorrow where I’d be pressed underneath Mason in a bed.
My pants got tight as my cock stiffened and blush rose into my cheeks.
His green eyes narrowed, and there was a pause as he waited for me to spill.
I looked back at him, then took another sip of my drink. “We’re having drinks, not tea.”
“Ooh, you want to talk about Mason,” he said.
I stiffened. He was too observant.
“I thought we were going to talk about your ex,” I
