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Presley’s smile widens, and she looks up to her mom. “Mom, he said I’m strong, did you hear?”
Her mom rubs the top of her head. “I sure did, honey.”
“How have you been, Andrew?” the woman asks. She gives me a graceful smile, and some of my jealousy melts away.
“Things have been good,” he says. He lets go of my hand for a moment, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “Fallon, this is Josie, my date.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say, offering her my hand. She takes it, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. Her eyes are the most beautiful shade of green, and a glance down at Presley reveals that she has the same eyes.
“Likewise,” Fallon says. She drops my hand, then uses a pointer finger to tap on her chin. “I feel like I’ve seen you before. I recognize you.”
Andrew interjects. “Oh, you have.” I look up at him, noting that he only has eyes for me right now. “She was the florist for Megan and Isaac’s wedding.”
“Oh my god, that’s it!’ Fallon proclaims. “God, you have such incredible talent. Presley kept the bouquet that you made her, and a few of the rose petals that she tossed down the aisle.”
I turn my attention to Presley, who is now looking at me like I hung the moon. “I’m so glad you liked your flowers, Presley! Maybe someday I can make you another bouquet.”
Presley aggressively nods, her toothless smile widening with each movement. “Yes, please!” she practically squeals.
“You got it,” I say. I lift my eyes back to Fallon. “Now that Andrew mentions it, I totally recognize you, too. You looked stunning at the wedding.”
“Thank you,” Fallon says with a grateful smile. “It really was an incredible day.”
She’s about to say something more, but Lucy calls the group to attention. We wave goodbye, and Andrew leads me back to our table. Presley and Fallon sit closer to the front, in the row behind Norma and one of her friends.
Lucy gives the few newcomers a moment to get their things together. Andrew scoots his chair closer to me, pulling the small plate with him. “I got us a bunch of random snacks, and then, I got some drinks to try too.” He hands me one of the cans, labeled Dry Pear Cider. At first glance, it isn’t something I would pick for myself, but I’m willing to try it because it does sound like it could be good. I’m not familiar with the brand though. Blue Ox Brewery. Inspecting the label closer, I see that the company is local to Ivy Ridge.
“Oh, that’s cool, it’s a local place.” I crack open the can, and take a sip. It’s totally different than what I thought, the dryness of the cider also joined with the subtle sweetness of the pear flavor. “Wow, this is really good,” I say, taking another drink. “Have you ever been to this brewery?” I ask. I hold out the can, offering him a sip.
Andrew's eyes light up with a hint of humor, but I can’t quite place why. A curl falls over his forehead, and without thinking, I automatically push it away from his eyes. Andrew chuckles, taking my hand from his face, pressing a kiss to my fingertips before giving me my hand back. “Yeah, I guess you could say I’ve been there a few times.”
“Maybe we can go sometime,” I offer. “There are so many places I still need to try here.”
“You bet,” he murmurs, leaning over to kiss my temple. I take another sip of the cider, and Lucy starts the class.
18
ANDREW
“You know, I really don’t understand how mine turned out so bad,” I state. Our paintings are sitting in the backseat of my truck as I drive us toward her place. Hers is a beautifully painted replica of the example, only she went all out, changing the colors of her flowers, even going as far as adding more into the background. Mine, however, is the definition of color theory gone wrong. I tried to mix a few colors to make something fun and bright, but it only turned into a deep green that was oddly reminiscent of the color of Shrek’s skin. “I followed every single step, by the book.”
Josie’s currently looking out the passenger window, desperately trying not to laugh. She curls her hand into a fist, resting it on her pursed lips. After a long moment, she speaks, and I can tell she’s trying her best not to cackle as she does. “I think your painting is great, honey. You need practice, that’s all.”
Ignoring the flutter in my chest at her calling me “honey”, I continue. “You’re saying that because you like me. It’s horrible. You can say it.” At a stop sign, I reach over, hooking my thumb under her chin so she’s looking at me. “Say it.”
Josie purses her lips again. I start driving, only moments away from her house now. “I do like you, a lot. And I also think that your painting is fine,” she whispers. Her eyes begin to water from the strain of holding back her laughter. It’s fucking adorable.
“Petals…” I tease. I pull my truck into her driveway, shutting it off.
“I’m not gonna say it, Andrew.”
“I’ll get it out of you, one way or another. That’s what relationships are all about, right? Honesty?”
Josie gasps slightly, hesitating a long moment before speaking. “Is that what this is? A relationship?”
I shrug. “I think it’s headed in that direction, don’t you?” I honestly hadn’t really considered the alternative.
Josie nods. “I didn’t want to assume, but yeah. I think so too.”
