Page 105 of Manic

A scoff escaped me, and I pivoted as he lifted a brow. I reached over and plucked the cigarette from his mouth, bringing it to my own. I inhaled deeply and scowled before handing it back.

God, I hated the taste, but his expression was worth it.

Manic stared at my mouth as he stood entirely too frozen in front of me. Comical. I smirked at the way his gaze lingered and exhaled.

“I probably wouldn’t spend a dime in a place like that if I could help it,” I answered. “I would rather spend my money on something I’d actually enjoy—or at least wear more than once.”

A sad smile lined my lips as I recalled all the ridiculous luxury my parents enjoyed, and the degree I didn’t want but was forced to get.

“I hardly even liked the luxury of college,” I added.

“Why did you go?”

“Parents' wishes, and all. At one point, I had hoped market design would eventually allow me to open something of my own. Now I’m not so sure I want to finish my classes.”

He studied me for a long moment before we continued our path down the street, our steps beating against the concrete while the trees swayed ahead. A blur of crimson leaves floated to the ground.

“What would you open?” he asked.

I chuckled at the curiosity in his question. Even though I knew what sat beneath the surface, after our meeting with Ronan, Manic’s mood has been more level the last few days.

“Like a bookstore or a library someone could get lost in. Add a cafe, and they’d never leave.” I glanced over. “Are we going anywhere else?”

“One more stop and we’ll drop the gifts off.”

I lifted my brows. “Where to?”

He nodded toward the end of the street—toward a red bricked building with arched windows. To me it looked like a simple café, but as we reached its doors, I realized it was much more than that.

The space opened up as we stepped in, walking right past the café and down a warmly lit hall lined with many sconces. Manic stopped outside a glass door and opened it, gesturing me inside.

My eyes narrowed as it brought me back to when he’d lured me into my own kidnapping at the mansion. He smiled, devious and cunning, and I knew he realized what I was thinking.

“Come on,” he urged. “It’s not like I can kidnap you again.”

I groaned and walked in, my boots halting on the black and white checkered floor. We were met with a sea of flowers, the air hanging thick with its scent—sweet, dense, and most definitely intoxicating. It carried a faint humidity that clung to the wisps of my hair. A domed glass ceiling rose above us.

My jaw dropped as I cast my gaze over the area. A hidden greenhouse I never knew existed before now. Though no greenery besides the rows of florals settled in the space, except for a small wooden counter on our left that held two potted plants. An older woman with dark hair and round glasses greeted us.

Who knew Manic had a heart for giving his sister flowers.

My chest warmed like the muscle beneath my ribs was thawing out until only puddles remained. I realized then that Manic would rather show he cared than voice it out loud. It was in the small acts of kindness and the thoughtfulness behind his gifts.

It was… endearing. An odd feeling for me to have for my kidnapper, slash admirer, slash… fuck. Whatever he was to me, I hated myself for feeling anything at all.

“Welcome in,” the woman said. “Look around and pick however many you want. I’ll make a bouquet for you.”

She stepped around the counter, handing us a pair of sheers and a woven basket with a warm smile. I was too flustered to give her my own, and so I just stood there. Manic nodded to the woman, then urged me down a row.

“Cat got your tongue?” he mused.

“No,” I clipped, then cleared my throat. “It’s just… a little overwhelming. How do you pick? Other than peonies, is there anything Naomi likes?”

We sauntered down a row lined with roses of every color on one side, while daisies, lilacs, and dahlias filled the other.

“White daisies,” he started and pointed to my right, “pink peonies, red and white roses, purple lilacs.”

A smile ghosted my lips as I began clipping the daisies, setting them in the basket one by one. I tucked my chin and cut a few more while he stood there.