Amongst The Wildflowers (Fleurs d'Amour Book 3)

by Amali Rose

  “Yeah, sounds like a plan.” I pause before blurting out, “Except we slept together last night.”

  “Get out!” She slaps my shoulder in surprise and I somehow grimace and laugh at the same time. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were going to!”

  “I didn’t plan it, it just happened.” I shake my head. Could I be more of a cliché?

  “Well, how was it? I need all the details. God, I can’t believe you slept with him so soon.”

  My brow creases at her words, a wave of embarrassment washing over me.

  “No, no, no,” she exclaims when she notices my expression. “I’m glad you did, I’m just surprised, that’s all. It’s not like you to act so impulsively, but I’m all for it.”

  I nod my head and consider her words. “The thing is, it didn’t feel impulsive. It doesn’t feel like we’ve only been together for six days.”

  “That makes sense, I think.” She shrugs. “You two have this crazy long history and I guess this is a natural evolution. Plus, when you’ve spent ten years wanting to jump someone, it’s only natural to do it as soon as you have the opportunity.”

  “It hasn’t been ten years, jeez. Maybe, like six or seven.”

  “Whatever.” She rolls her eyes. “So, how was it?”

  “It was good. Really, really good.” I blush, and her eyes widen.

  “Really? God, your first time isn’t supposed to be really, really good. I kind of hate you now.”

  “I mean, it hurt. When he first, you know.” I scrunch my nose up remembering the pain. “Yeah, that really hurt, but he was sweet, and he didn’t rush me. Then it felt good, with just a tiny edge of pain, and then it just felt good.”

  Our eyes meet, and we say in unison, “really, really good” and dissolve into giggles.

  Sleep is forgotten, and I spend the next hour or so giving her a blow-by-blow account of last night. Pun totally intended.

  We’re debating going out for lunch when there’s a knock on the door and Evie jumps up to see who it is.

  She lets Tash in and my heart sinks a little.

  I’ve only seen her in passing the past few weeks, going out of my way to avoid her. I know it’s ridiculous, but a part of me is annoyed at her for flirting with Ethan. Which makes no sense because Tash flirts with every hot guy. Plus, we weren’t even a couple. I mean, I was dating someone else for goodness sake, and Tash didn’t know about my feelings for him.

  I have enough self-awareness to realize that it’s jealousy. My inner witch telling me that I can’t compete with Tash’s lean body, or her intense green eyes and gorgeous auburn hair.

  With her heart-shaped face and cupid's bow mouth, she’s the epitome of what I wish I looked like, and I struggle to believe that Ethan wants me when he could have her.

  Shaking myself out of my funk, and berating myself for being so juvenile, I greet her warmly.

  “You guys want to go out for lunch? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!”

  Evie side-eyes me. She still hasn’t entirely forgiven Tash for the ugly jab.

  “Sounds good, do you wanna just hit up the dining hall? That new vegan place has an incredible pumpkin couscous salad and I’ve been craving one.”

  They both look at me as if I just declared my love for an alien species and I shrug.

  “It’s good!”

  Evie looks at me, her eyes sparkling mischievously. “But is it really, really good?”

  “Shut up.” I snort.

  Tash looks between the two of us, a wary expression on her face. “I feel like I’m missing something?”

  “Nope, just ignore her.” Standing up, I quickly swap my sleep shorts for a pair of yoga pants and throw on a hoodie. “Let’s go.”

  We’re headed out the door when my phone pings with a message and I read it while trying to keep up with Evie and Tash, both of whom have legs considerably longer than mine.

  ETHAN: I can smell you all over my sheets.

  Oh, God, how can eight words from him make my face flame like this?

  ETHAN: I love it when you blush.

  I look around as though I’m going to find him standing next to me, but he’s nowhere in sight and I sigh in exasperation. While I’m considering how to respond, my phone goes off again.

  ETHAN: Where are you?

  ME: Headed to the dining hall. Wanna catch up later?

  I get no response, so I shove my phone back in the pocket of my hoodie and hurry to catch up with the others.

  Twenty minutes later, we’re seated at a table in the quiet dining hall when I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

  Tash, who is sitting across from me, looks up to my right and a slow, lazy smile spreads across her face. She starts twirling a lock of hair around her finger and tilts her head in a way that can only be described as coquettish.

  Lord, this girl could give lessons on flirting.

  I know he’s coming before I see him, and despite this, I still jump when he appears behind me and his fingers squeeze my ribcage and tickle.

  “Aaah! Don’t do that!” I duck my head down in embarrassment and do a quick check to make sure no one heard my squeal, while Ethan chuckles beside me.

  He turns his attention to Evie, who is sitting beside me, and slides her chair around to the end of the table and pulls another chair up to the table and takes a seat.

  “You don’t mind, right?” he throws out.

  “Jesus, too bad if I did, I guess,” she throws right back, and I smile, watching their back and forth.

  I glance over at Tash and see her watching the three of us with surprise. I don’t have time to worry about it because before I can make sense of what is happening, my face is in Ethan’s hands, my mouth is pressed against his and my mind empties of every thought except how good his tongue feels sliding against mine.

  He pulls back ever so slightly, his lips still resting on mine and I feel them twist up in a smile.

  “Hi.”

  “Hey.”

  He brushes another soft kiss across my mouth, then turns to look at the plate in front of me with a look of disgust.

  “What is that?” His voice completely horrifed I take advantage of his distraction to chance a look at Tash and see her staring at Ethan, wide-eyed and mouth agape. I can’t help the small sliver of satisfaction that I feel.

  “Pumpkin couscous salad. You want some?” I offer up a heaping forkful to him with a quirked eyebrow.

  “Fuck, no.” He pushes away from the table noisily. “I’ll be back.”

  I watch him walk away, admiring his butt as he goes. It’s a really nice butt.

  “I’m just running to the bathroom.” Evie swallows the last of her mac and cheese and follows in the same direction Ethan just headed.

  As soon as she’s gone, the air shifts and I feel the tension pulsing between Tash and me. I choose to ignore it and dig back into my salad, hopeful that Ethan and Evie return quickly.

  “So, you and Ethan, huh?” Her voice is slightly higher pitched than normal.

  “Uh, yeah, it’s pretty new.”

  “I thought you were dating Michael?” I hear a note of accusation, but I’m not sure if I’m imagining it, and, for the first time, it hits me how bad this looks. Jumping straight from Michael to Ethan. I’ve been in my own little happy bubble for the past week, surrounded by people who knew our story and were happy for us. I had almost convinced myself that Michael was just a bad dream.

  “We broke up. We were never serious though.” I hate the defensiveness in my voice.

  “Right.” She takes a sip of her water, her eyes sizing me up. “Well, I’m happy for you. He’s a good guy, and I knew he had feelings for you.”

  “Thanks, I really do appreciate that. I would hate for there to be any awkwardness between us.”

  “Oh God, no. No awkwardness. Although, you know…” She looks at me reproachfully. “If you had told me you were interested, I never would have flirted with him. I would have just let you have h
im.”

  I ignore the twinge of annoyance I feel at her insinuation that I needed her to step aside. I ignore the desire to yell at her that he wanted me, even when he could have had her. I even ignore the impulse to poke my tongue out at her.

  Instead, I take the high road. “It was a confusing situation. But thank you, that means a lot.”

  She reaches across the table and takes my hand, squeezing it gently, and smiles at me. Her genuine smile. The one that lights up her face and reminds me why we’re friends.

  “I really am happy for you, Lay. You deserve a good guy, and I think you two make a great pair.”

  “What about you, who are you see—” My phone starts vibrating across the table, interrupting me, and my heart does a happy flip when I see my sister’s name on the screen.

  I turn to Tash. “I’m so sorry, it’s my sister.”

  She waves me off. “Take it, don’t even worry.”

  “Hey, CJ, what’s up?”

  “Bubs! You free next Saturday?”

  “I think so, why?” Knowing my sister, I’m almost scared to ask.

  “Girls’ night, baby girl. Girls’. Night!”

  Ethan

  The locker room is humid and a thin sheen of sweat sticks to my skin. Seth is beside me bullshitting on about something, but all I can hear is Bradshaw’s voice, bragging about some girl he nailed last night.

  The fucker makes my skin crawl.

  “She moaned like a bitch porn star when I stuffed her with my cock.”

  I’ve replayed those words over in my mind a million times since he spat them at me last week. Every time I do, I relive the satisfaction of his bone-crunching beneath my knuckles and feel the itch to do it all over again.

  “Dickhole, are you even listening to me?”

  “What?” I slam my locker shut and sit down to lace up my Converse, trying to concentrate on Seth’s voice.

  “You and Layla coming to Hound Dog to celebrate?”

  I roll my shoulders and consider his question. I don’t really feel like I have anything to celebrate. It was a close game, and the guys did a great job to pull out a touchdown in the last three minutes, giving us a two-point win against our biggest rival. I, however, had nothing to do with the win and my ass spent the game warming the bench.

  “Nah, Layla’s going out with her sister tonight and I agreed to have dinner with my dad.”

  Seth’s eyes light up at the mention of Jackson Miller, the way most football fans do, and if I was in a better mood, I would invite him to join us. But after receiving a two-game suspension earlier this week for aggressive behavior, I know I’m about to get my ass handed to me, and I’d prefer not to have an audience for it.

  “Okay, cool. We’ll catch you at home then.” He gives me a knowing look and slaps me on my back before making his way out of the locker room, shouting out goodbyes and joking around with our teammates the entire way.

  Sighing, I stand up and roughly run my towel over my still-damp hair. No one will be joking around with me anytime soon, they’re all still pissy about me knocking out their captain. It turns out no matter how much of a douche he is, the team doesn’t appreciate the new guy putting him on his ass in front of a roomful of jocks and sorority skanks.

  I throw my bag over my shoulder and after giving a quick goodbye to the few guys not hanging on Bradshaw’s every word, I head out through the tunnel that leads directly to the parking lot.

  My night starts to look up when I spot Layla standing at the end of the walkway, a huge smile on her face, talking to my parents, her arms wrapped around Emme’s shoulders.

  There’s a selfish part of me that hopes she’s blowing off her plans for tonight to be a buffer between my dad and me.

  “Ethan!” Emme’s voice is a screech as she breaks away from Layla, running at full speed and throwing herself into my arms.

  “Hey, Oops.” I wrap my arms around her and let myself savor this brief moment of adoration.

  She pulls back slightly until she’s looking me in the eye. “Why didn’t you play today? It’s so boring when you don’t play!”

  I meet my father’s sardonic expression over Emme’s shoulder and grimace slightly.

  “Alright, Miss Emmerson, if you want to get to your sleepover in time, we need to leave now,” my mom interrupts.

  “Oh, yay! I’m sleeping over at Meg’s tonight.” Emme leans in to whisper in my ear. “We’re gonna stay up all night, but don’t tell Mom, okay?”

  “Promise.”

  She plants a loud kiss on my cheek and jumps down.

  “You two come for brunch tomorrow. No excuses.” My mom hugs me close. “I’m so happy you two finally got your act together.” Her voice is low so only I can hear her, and my gaze cuts to Layla who is standing back watching us with a look of happiness on her face.

  “Me too.”

  After a protracted round of goodbyes where Emme hugs and kisses each of us multiple times, it’s finally just my father, Layla, and I standing there.

  The rest of the team has started to trickle out and I notice the side looks and double takes when they notice my dad. Layla picks up on the shift in my mood and presses her body close against mine, stretching up and kissing my jaw.

  “Hey.”

  “Hi.” My voice is raspy, and I pull her in tight, still not quite believing that I’m finally allowed to touch her like this.

  An awkward cough distracts us both and Layla steps away, her cheeks burning and my body already missing the comfort of hers.

  “Are you joining us tonight, Layla? You’re more than welcome.” My father’s eyes are warm and his invitation sincere.

  “Uh, I can.” She quirks an eyebrow at me in question and despite how badly I want her there tonight, I know how much she’s looking forward to going out.

  “No, she can’t, Dad. She’s going out with Cassidy tonight.”

  “Oh, well, that’s a shame, but I’m sure you’ll have much more fun with your sister.” He chuckles. “And I’ll make sure Ethan has bail money set aside, just in case.”

  Layla giggles. “Oh God, my parents would kill her if they ever got that phone call again.” She pulls her phone out and checks the time. “Okay, I have to head off then. You guys have a great time and—” she turns to me, wrapping her arms around my waist, “—I’ll message you later.”

  “Yeah, do that.” I lean down until my mouth brushes against hers and I steal a taste. “Definitely do that.”

  “See you later, Mr. Miller.” She throws him a wave and my dad smiles at her indulgently.

  “Goodbye, Layla.”

  I watch her walk away, enjoying the sway of her rounded ass, while Dad surreptitiously checks his phone.

  “You ready?”

  “Yeah, let’s get out of here.”

  I lead the way to my truck and we make our way to his favorite Italian restaurant, indulging in idle chit-chat while I fantasize about the giant bowl of pasta I’m about to devour.

  All the casual back and forth lulls me into a false sense of security, and by the time the waitress brings our food to the table, I’m almost convinced Dad is going to let my transgression slide.

  Just as I’m about to dig into my spaghetti bolognese, his voice pulls me up short.

  “A two-game suspension, Ethan, really?” My hands tighten around my cutlery.

  “I’m not going to apologize, Dad. The guy’s an asshole and he deserved worse than what he got.”

  “I don’t doubt that he did, but you need to think about the team. The team always has to come first, son.”

  “Fuck the team, Dad. Fuck them.” My entire body is tense, and I can feel an angry pulse start to beat in my temple.

  He glares at me across the table and I can see his jaw clenching. This goes against his entire ethos for life. I know my father loves us, but I also know his team will always come first. He doesn’t know any other way, a fact which has been proven time and again. You would think when he retired from the Giants, it would have been our
turn. Instead, he accepted an offensive coordinator position with them and they remained priority number one.

  I won’t live that way. A team will never mean more to me than the individuals I love.

  “You committed to this team, Ethan. You owe them more than this.”

  I slam my cutlery down, drawing a few glances from nearby diners, but I couldn’t care less.

  “I owe them shit, Dad. I never asked to be on the team, you did that. You pulled fucking strings I never wanted you to pull and left me with no choice but to say yes.”

  He looks completely taken aback by my response. “You were playing football in Washington, you’re telling me you weren’t going to play when you came home?” His tone is defensive, but I can’t bring myself to give a fuck. This is a conversation we should have had a long time ago.

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. I had no intention of trying out for the team. I came back here to sort things out with Layla and finish my degree, that’s it. Why the hell would I force my way onto an established team when I really couldn’t care less about football?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, of course you care about football, you led your high school team to the championship twice. I was there, I saw how much the game meant to you. If it didn’t, why would you have gone on to play at WSU?”

  I exhale harshly, contemplating his question. Because, despite his defensiveness, he has a point. I do enjoy football, but it was never the all-encompassing passion that he feels.

  I lean back in my chair. “I played at WSU because I could just enjoy the game. There was no pressure. Do you have any fucking idea how hard it is being your son and living up to those expectations?” He starts to talk, but I cut him off. “Do you know what it’s like to feel the weight of disappointment crushing you because your father is a football champion and you don’t want to follow in his footsteps?”

  “Now, stop right there.” He points at me angrily. “I have never, not for one single second, been disappointed in you. It’s just—” he runs a hand haphazardly through his hair, “—you could have been great.”