Page 43 of Romancing in Rot

Stop.

He’s just being nice. Encouraging. A trainer proud of his trainee. That’s all. Stepping back, in that jewelry store, he made it very clear that he doesn’t want anything more than friendship.

Embarrassment crawls hot up my neck.

I stab the needle into the fabric.

It’s not like I’d know what to do with him anyway.

Nothing says dream woman like emotionally stunted with a crowbar.

Real attractive, Clair.

Poppy sits beside me with her sketchbook balanced on her knees, tongue tucked between her teeth as she draws something green and, judging by the tiny crown, royal.

“Is that supposed to be Joanie as a frog?” I ask.

Poppy doesn’t look up. “She’s a ribbiting princess.”

“Can we put this up in the window she sleeps next to?”

She nods and a mischievous gleam sparks in her gaze. “Already planning on it.”

God, I love my girl.

A shadow falls over us.

My hand moves before my brain catches up, sliding the note beneath Poppy’s sweater like I’m hiding contraband.

Leon steps out from beside his truck with something tucked under one arm.

A bow.

Small. Compact.

Pink.

Poppy’s pencil freezes mid-scratch.

I shift closer to her before I realize I’ve moved.

His steps slow, and instead of coming any closer, he lowers to one knee a few feet away. The firelight catches on the pale scar across his throat as he rests the bow across both open palms.

He looks at Poppy.

Then at me.

Waiting.

Waiting for me?

That should not feel as shocking as it does.

Only once I nod does he pass the bow to Poppy.

Her eyes go huge. “For me?”

He nods once, then reaches for his notebook. His pencil moves quickly before he turns the page toward her.