15. CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
15
Ariot of color greets me as I step into my office.
Peonies, roses, carnations—a fragrant fusion of Wells’ apology.
In the wake of our last encounter a couple of nights ago, which was both intense and awakening, I've kept him at a careful distance. I couldn’t pull the trigger on ending things. Something in the way he looked at me spoke volumes—his offense wasn’t totally unforgivable, and he knows I’m a sucker for flowers.
Yet, I know the path forward with Wells will be challenging. We can't keep this a secret forever. That’s not fair to either of us. But the truth is, Wells isn't something I can give up, not yet.
I'll take the gamble not because I'm blind to the stakes but because I want to see what 'us' could mean for me. If it ends in flames, I won’t have a “what-if” eating at me for the rest of my life.
With a defeated sigh, I pull out my phone and unblock Wells on Instagram. This can’t go unnoticed, obviously.
And I love the damn flowers.
RORY: I love the flowers. Thank you!
WELLS: I’m glad.
WELLS: When can I see you again?
WELLS: And why am I still unable to reach you through text?
Because this is safer.
I stare at the message, the cursor blinking expectantly for an answer.
“Holy crap.” I glance up at Chloe, her eyes wide as she soaks in the multitude of flowers all over my desk, her desk, empty desks, and the reception area. “Damn, he’s good.”
See?
“It looks like a botanical garden in here.”
I smirk because I could charge tickets. “Want some?”
“You’re gonna need some help bringing them home.”
“Shit, I didn’t think of that.”
Chloe plops down in her chair and leans back before scrutinizing me. “You forgave him.”
“I unblocked him.”
“On your phone?”
“On Instagram.”
Her brows collide. “But you’re going to unblock him…on your phone, right?”
"He's asking when he can see me again," I admit and avoid, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement dance beneath my skin.
“So, why are you freaked out about giving him access to you through your phone? That’s, like, Dating 101, Rory.”
"I'm not freaked out…" My protest fades because, well, she's not wrong.
I completely am.
It’s another level.
One that should be simple because it is.
"You're scared," Chloe pegs me, her voice laced with that tell-it-like-it-is brand of honesty I both dread and rely on. "When's the last time Rory Sellers was scared of a guy?”
I mindlessly scoff. “I’m not. I’m not scared of him.”
“Seems like it.” She crosses her arms haughtily over her chest. “I mean, why else wouldn’t you treat him like a normal guy?”
“He’s my father’s—”
“I know who he is. I Google-stalked him on your behalf.”
“Chloe,” I lightly rebuke, as a wave of pride runs across my chest. “Geez…”
She smiles at me. “You’re welcome.”
Shaking my head at her, I still grin because this is ridiculous. I’m a grown-ass woman. I can do what I want.
“What’s eating you, Ror?” Chloe prods when my silence goes on a beat too long. “It’s not like you to run around in your mind like this. You normally just do. So do it.”
I shake my head, my smile slipping. "It's what Dad will think..."
“Since when does Rory Sellers worry about what anyone thinks? Like, ever?” Chloe leans forward, her eyes narrowed, not allowing me to look anywhere but right at her conviction.
It feels as though she's trying to inject me with her fearlessness, and I hate how much I need that right now.
But she's right.
I can count on one hand the times I've allowed someone else's opinion to dictate my actions—and those are blemishes on an otherwise unapologetic record of independence and resilience.
"Come on," she urges, her tone softening into the realm of encouragement. "You've never let anyone, not the team, not public opinion, hell, not even your dad, dictate how you live your life. Why start now?"
My shoulders drop as the truth of her words settles onto my skin. "You're right. It's just... complicated."
"Girl, the best things in life are complicated. But they're worth it. You're worth it."
“But is this worth it?”
“Do you think it’s worth it? Does he make you happy?”
Yes.
I bob my head, and she smiles wider at me.
"Good. Now, let's focus on what you're going to wear because babyyyy…” Something evil glimmers in her eyes, and I know exactly what she wants to do. She wants to torture Wells. “I have a dress that he will die over.”
“I’m not trying to assassinate the man.”
“You should. He’ll never be caught with a group of girls again.”
I run a hand down my face because Chloe doesn’t need a gun.
She has heels.