Page 109
“I don’t need flowers.”
“Mm, not true. Every woman needs flowers at least once in their life.”
“Well, I’m not every woman,” I fired back.
It wasn’t that I didn’t like them, I was just… caught off guard.
I’d never been given flowers before—except from my admirer. But that didn’t count, did it? Only it did, because he was my admirer. Manic was the only man who had ever given me flowers.
Embarrassment and a hint of…
God, I couldn’t even place it. Whatever it was, a lump formed in my throat. I blinked hard, overwhelmed with an emotion I hated but couldn’t quite name.
He stopped near the café’s exit and faced me. “Do you not like them?”
“I—well…” I fumbled my words. “...yes.”
“Then say, ‘thank you’ and accept the flowers. As much as I enjoy that blush of yours, I’m sure Naomi would hound you with questions if it doesn’t go away,” Manic quipped, his lips tugging up at the corners.
“You’re insufferable.” I growled and stuck my nose back into the bouquet as I mumbled a thank you.
He breathed a quiet laugh and led me toward our car.
“So you keep saying.”
The minutes in the car dragged, and as we drove down the highway, a nervous jitter ran through me as I was unsure of what to think of the flowers. Surely it meant nothing, but even though I loved every single one of them, it lingered at the back of my mind.
I stared out the window, confusion whirring my thoughts.
I was at war with my feelings for the one man I needed to hate, but couldn’t seem to find it in me. At some point in the last few weeks, it had disappeared entirely.
They were just flowers, Sutton.
I was immediately pulled from my thoughts when warmth skated across my skin. I glanced down, my breath hitching, as Manic placed his hand on my thigh and gently squeezed.
Heat crawled up my neck.
He didn’t say anything, only fixed his eyes on the road, but I witnessed the smallest of smiles creeping up the side of his mouth. Yet that small smile eased the compressing of my lungs.
What the fuck was he doing to me?
When we finally arrived at the mansion, one of Ronan’s staff members greeted us at the door, then called for Naomi through an intercom. We waited in the elaborate foyer with too-expensive tile and a large circular table centered in the room. Behind the table, the grand staircase stretched to the second floor, its carpet stirring the vague memory of exiting Ronan’s office to find their nurse with Axell.
After a few minutes of waiting, Naomi finally stepped in from what I assumed was the dining area.
This place was too large to make sense of it all, and I shook my head. I’d already gotten lost in the mansion once, and I had no intention of walking off again.
Naomi squealed, clapping her hands, and a beaming smile lit her face as Manic kissed her cheek and extended her gifts. All I could do was awkwardly stand there with my hands clasped in front of me. My palms were too clammy to do anything else.
“Thank you, Manic. I love them, just like every year.” She batted her eyelashes and sniffed her bouquet for a few seconds before passing them off to a nearby maid. “Place my gifts in my room and the flowers in a vase for me, please. I would love for them to be on my nightstand.”
The maid nodded and scurried off.
“Happy birthday,” Manic said, placing his hands into his pockets. “Any big plans for tomorrow?”
“Actually, I would love it if you—”
“No.” Manic shook his head.