my heart almost spontaneously combusts when I spot the singular flower in his hand, stem rolling between his thumb and forefinger. “Hello,” he greets, an adorable, dimpled grin on his face. I blink. “Ugh…fuck me.” Oliver’s eyebrows lift to his hairline, his cheeks coloring a demure shade of pink. “Pardon?” Shaking my head and cursing my inept choice of words, I usher him inside the house, blowing a strand of hair out of my eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean… Hell, what are you doing here? More importantly, why do you have a flower?” “It’s for you. I took a run down to the lake where we saw the
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