Jewel Ann - Idle Bloom

“He lives alone?”

“Yes, well, I think so.”

“Does he have a girlfriend?”

Alex asks some brilliant questions. It’s just now occurring to me that these might have been a few of the basic things to ask before requesting that he fondle my breasts until I exploded with my first male-induced orgasm while dry humping his crotch.

“I’m going to say, no.”

“So you asked?”

My face wrinkles. “No.”

“Then why do you assume no ?”

“Because we … kissed.”

“Eeeeee!” Alex squeals standing up, bouncing on the couch and clapping her hands like a circus monkey.

Finally, she sits back down. “Did he see your—”

“No.”

“But you’re going to let him see—”

“No! I mean …” I shove my knotted-up yarn in my bag. “I don’t know, I like him and he looks at me like a child does the first time seeing Disney World. I just want to enjoy it for a little while before I have to face the look that is inevitable.”

“You don’t know that, and your tattoo is beautiful, Flower. He might not even notice.” She strokes the back of my hair like the big sister I never had even though she’s only six months older than I am. “So, is he as hot as Chance?” She giggles, lightening the mood.

“Hotter.” I beam.

I should have walked over and knocked on Oliver’s door yesterday to get the awkward post make-out encounter over with before the start of another work week. Now I’m nervous with equal parts fear and anticipation as I get ready to take the stairs down to the subway where I know he’ll be standing looking all sexy in his worn jeans, T-shirt, work boots, and if I’m lucky, a nice five o’clock shadow.

He’s so tall it’s nearly impossible to miss him, but this morning I don’t see him anywhere. Perfect. He’s probably chosen a different route just to avoid the pathetic neighbor who begs him to give her an orgasm but does absolutely nothing in return. Why’d I have to be so damn greedy?

The doors snap open and I shuffle onto the subway car grabbing a rail among the morning crowd. I don’t have his cell number or know if he’ll be by the greenhouse today. The more I replay Saturday night in my head, the thicker the cloud of insecurity becomes.

“I’m thinking of asking my neighbor out on a date. Do you recommend flowers or chocolates?”

The whisper of his voice in my ear steals my breath. I bite my lips together to control the emanate grin that’s becoming a tangible emotion smeared across my face.

An uncommon phenomenon occurs: My body boils over with heat at the same time chills trickle down my neck and spine from his breath across my ear.

“Neither, unless you’re like fifty years old,” I reply and turn.

A lady sitting to the right of where I’m standing, probably in her fifties, grins with a growing blush as she buries her nose in a bouquet of red roses. The guy next to her, dressed in some sort of security uniform, holds a box of chocolates and shrugs when I look at him.

Oliver has a Cheshire cat grin on his face, making a poor attempt at looking casual and innocent.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi.” My grin wins over. “So this neighbor of yours, what do you think the chances are of her saying yes?”

He rolls his eyes up to the ceiling and scratches his chin. “Um, I’d say fifty-fifty. She’s unpredictable.”

The train slows approaching his stop. He leans down and brushes his lips from the corner of my lips to my ear. “Have a good day,” he whispers, leaving me in a puddle on the floor of the subway car.

“I thought you requested that your VIPs not show up in large groups.” I smile over clenched teeth as Maggie exchanges her seventh brown bag special in a row for cash and no receipt.

“You think there’s some sting operation set up across the street or something?” She laughs.

“No, I think law enforcement officials landscape around their own homes too, and I don’t think they’ll wear their uniform just to warn you to stash your grass.”

“You do realize, dear, that a few of my VIPs are in law enforcement, right?”

“That’s not going to make your case any stronger in court.”

She shoos me away with her hand. “Your Handy Hunk will be coming by soon, go check his order.”

And just like that, I’ve forgotten about Maggie’s eminent demise. A warm, fluttery giddiness swells in my chest as I skip to the back. Never before have the words Handy Hunk made my heart race. I wonder if Oliver has said anything to Chance. My ability to count plants and check them off the order sheet is nonexistent.

As the truck backs in, I attempt casual: work gloves on, work gloves off; stare at the truck, stare at the sheet; pen behind my ear, pen clipped to the front of my shirt.

“It’s official, Monday no longer sucks.” Chance leaps into flirt mode in record time, as if he has any other mode.

“Hi, Chance.” I smile trying to look at him and not the other door of the truck.

“Well, don’t you sound chipper today. Is that happiness to see me I detect in your voice?” He reaches for the pen clipped on my shirt to sign the credit slip.

I squint my eyes, peering at the back window of the truck. I’m surprised Oliver hasn’t gotten out yet.

“So … still working at the hotel?” I feign nonchalance.

“Yep, last day. Oliver will probably have all the holes dug before I get back there. He’s working with some extra energy today, wish I could say the same.”

Fireworks ignite inside me thinking about Oliver having extra energy because of me.

“I have no doubt it’s because of the hot waitress from the hotel’s lounge that keeps bringing out cold drinks to him. I offered to stay and do the digging, but he insisted I come get the plants. It’s about time he decided to get dirty with something other than actual dirt.” Chance chuckles as he starts to load up the back of the truck.

The fireworks fizzle out. I could easily dismiss the waitress comment from Chance, after all, I’m sure he thinks all men are like him, but I can’t figure out why Oliver sent Chance to get the plants, knowing I’d be here.

“You make it sound like Oliver’s a monk or something.”

“Might as well be. I can’t share why, but I can say he hasn’t had sex in … years. So naturally he has to be ready to explode and that waitress is definitely the spark that could set him off.”

“I didn’t need to know that.” I try to sound offended by yet another brash comment from Chance, but the truth is I do need to know this. Shit! It hits me how close to losing it Oliver probably is especially after what I did to him, or didn’t do to him last night.

“Yeah, well don’t mention it to him. It’s a sensitive subject,” he says while loading the last plant.

“Because you know I have a habit of discussing people’s sex lives, especially those I’ve known less than a week.” I shake my head trying to not overshoot my why-would-I-bring-it-up-to-Oliver attitude.

“Fair point.” Chance smiles. “Stay gorgeous.”

I want to be pissed and rant about how all men are the same, but I was the one who had the orgasm the other night. Hell, I asked for it! The pang of disappointment is from cracking the door to let in the possibility that Oliver is different, that his eyes could see me and not my scars.

Oliver

I can’t remember the last time I wanted time to fly. That’s probably the reason I feel stuck and lost. When I stopped running from my past but hadn’t yet looked to my future, time stood still. I’ve heard that’s considered living in the moment, but I think that requires a certain amount of appreciation for that moment. So for me, looking at my watch and anticipating something in my future, even if it’s only a few hours into my future, should be considered real progress. Once again, I’m self-diagnosing and self-treating my screwed-up mind. It’s money in the bank.