“Rip,” I started, not even realizing I’d forgotten the “mister” part, “you can stop now with the flowers, all right?” He didn’t look up as he asked in that congenial, soft voice, “You didn’t like ’em?” “It isn’t about whether I like them or not—” He still didn’t glance over as he cut me off. “You liked them then?” “You know I do. They’re beautiful—” “You don’t like them in your room anymore?” I blinked. “No, I like them there—” “So…?” he asked, still busy doing whatever it was he was doing. I didn’t glance at his butt. I didn’t.
He cracks me up for no reason 😭
