“I am.”

“I have a delivery for you, and we were told not to stop banging on the door until you answered.”

Her heart kick-started in her chest as her body broke out in gooseflesh. No one had ever bought her flowers before. “Um, okay?”

And then it was like a circus. She swore people just kept coming in, placing bouquets of different colored flowers all over the apartment. Finally, when it was done, one of the guys turned to her with an annoyed look. “The ones on the counters are in order. Start with that one,” he said, pointing to the kitchen counter and at the large bouquet of cream peonies.

And then he was gone.

Looking around as the sweet aroma of all the flowers hit her, she was stunned in place.

What in the hell was going on?

Who were they from?

Vaughn came to mind, but she almost didn’t believe that.

Walking toward the counter, she reached for the card that read: Read me first.

Her movements were jerky, and she found that she was shaking as she opened the letter, her heart jumping into her throat when she saw the messy handwriting.

So, I had to go into the flower store because they wouldn’t write what I wanted. Bear with me, I have horrible handwriting. I’m a lefty, but:

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Brianna Soledad. From the bottom of my fucked-up soul, I’m sorry. If you give me the chance I so greatly need, I will spend the rest of my days apologizing to you. You said you want someone to fight for you. Well, here I am. Let’s do this. You know I love a challenge.

Covering her mouth, she let out a sob as she shook her head. This wasn’t happening. No. She couldn’t believe it. He let her walk away. He didn’t want more than sex; this wasn’t him. But yet, the proof was in the writing. “What are you doing, Vaughn?”

Blinking past her tears, she read on:

I picked cream peonies because they reminded me of your skin. The skin I love to kiss…and touch.

Go to the next card.

She shook her head, and her face broke into a grin as she reached for the next card that sat in an even larger bouquet of pink peonies.

I picked pink because they reminded me of your lips, the way your skin blushed when I told you that I thought you were gorgeous that one time on New Year’s. I meant it.

They also remind me of your extremely hot pussy. (That’s the part they wouldn’t write and also all the cuss words. Did you know I have a foul mouth? That’s what the old lady at the shop keeps saying. She’s watching me right now, probably thinking I’m a thug.)

Go to the next card.

Laughing through her tears, she held her gut as she laid the card down, tearing open the next one on some bright white daisies.

I got the white because you have strands of bright white in your hair. When I lay down with you back in San Jose, I found them all, running my hands along them. I thought how interesting they were and how soft they were. From that moment, I always seek them out when you have your hair in that crazy bun of yours. Your hair isn’t even long enough, but I love it. It’s adorable on you.

Go to the next card.

As she reached the end of the card, away were her nerves, replaced by excitement. Reaching for the next card that was in a bouquet of light green roses, she tore it open.

Just to let you know, the color of the roses is mint green, and I picked them out because the first time I saw you across the hall, moving in your stuff, you were wearing a mint green sweater.

Next card.

Moving to the bouquet of orange carnations, she laughed as she read the card.

These are for the Cheetos that were in your hair. Yes, I remember them.

Next card.

Excited to reach the end, she picked up the much larger card from the gold-dusted white roses interspersed with a few purples ones, which threw her off a bit, but she tore the envelope open anyway.

To the end, we are, but I hope it doesn’t mean THE END for us. I don’t like the sound of that. Plus, I don’t accept defeat well. We both know I tend to get a little irate.

But I picked gold because of the color of your dress at the New Year’s party. I remember you blew my fucking mind, Brie. I mean, my jaw dropped, I was so blown away by your beauty. I remember that I just wanted to get you naked. But then I did, and I didn’t want you to leave. I think that’s when I started to get scared. And when Jensen got on to me, I left my apartment. Seeing you in the hall, I had to have you because you made me feel right. Normal. I didn’t have to deal with my feelings, I could just have you. Everything I said, I meant with all the parts of my soul.

You asked me if I looked at you and saw all that you said. Kids, dogs, and all that. Well, the purple roses are for the jersey Quinn Adler wore when I went to lunch over at the Adlers. I thought that day that maybe I wanted kids, and as soon as I thought it, I thought of you.

But I fucked up.

And I own that, completely.

But, Brie, I can’t stop thinking about you.

I bet you’re wondering why there are so many flowers in the room. I might have overexaggerated (Yes, I had to ask how to spell that, and the old lady just shook her head at me), but each one represents the minutes I’ve spent thinking of you since San Jose.

I miss you.

I think you’re beautiful.

I want you. More than you’ll even know. Not just in a sexual way because that’s a given, but in the sense that I want to make you happy.

And I hope that throughout the day today, you’re home…

Because I’m nowhere near done fighting for that chance.

Covering her mouth, she closed her eyes as she fell into the chair behind her. Opening her eyes after a moment, she gazed around the room at all the flowers, and her heart, it swelled to the point it hurt in her chest. Then she found herself laughing.

She was in so much trouble.

“Do you think the pizza got delivered?”

Jensen looked up from his computer and nodded. “It just said delivered.”

“And they put the message in sausage?”

“Yes, I made sure to draw out how to do it. If they want the tip, it will say, ‘Brie, nothing says I want another chance like pizza.’”

Vaughn grinned as he cracked his knuckles before hitting reserve on the computer for Etch restaurant. “Reservation made.”

“Maybe you should wait. If she doesn’t want to go, you’ll be out some cash.”