Practice Makes Perfect: A Novel

It’s nighttime before I can get away to find Annie.

I still don’t fully know what happened this afternoon. Everything seemed to be going well, and then I called her sexy and everything fell apart. She said something about it being a nice line and working perfectly. But I’m not sure what about that would have hurt her so badly.

All I know is that the look she had before she shot up from the table gutted me. She was smiling with tears in her eyes. One glance at those blue eyes filled with emotion, and I wanted to beg her to stay so I could fix whatever happened. I haven’t been able to shake the image from my head all day. And now I’m finally off work, and I’ve been trying to hunt Annie down. I checked her house first, but her truck wasn’t there. And then I drove by Hank’s, and she wasn’t there either.

Even though her shop is closed, I decided to come by anyway, and sure enough, there she is. The town is dark, but her shop is lit up like a glass box. I see her in there standing in front of the wooden worktable, shoving stems of greenery into a vase like it personally offended her. Her long blonde hair is piled on her head in a messy jumbled heap, and she’s wearing a light pink oversize sweatshirt that’s draping off one of her shoulders. I’ve never seen her undone like that, and it’s making my pulse race. My fingers ache to sink into the back of her messy hair and wreck it even more. Seeing her bathed in light and surrounded by flowers from out here in the dark makes me feel like a man who slipped out of hell and is glimpsing heaven.

Annie takes a step back from her worktable and presses one sweatshirt covered fist to her mouth, appraising the bouquet she’s been working on, and then apparently deciding she hates it and ripping all the stems out again.

I try the door, expecting it to be locked, but it’s not. The bell chimes above my head as I step into the warm shop.

“We’re closed,” Annie says without even checking to make sure a serial killer isn’t about to murder her.

“That’s too bad because I really need to buy a bouquet for a woman,” I say, and Annie’s body stiffens. “It’s an emergency.”

Slowly she turns to look at me. Her face is a study in embarrassment, but I don’t know why. I’ve never wanted to crawl into someone’s head and read all of their thoughts like I do with Annie. My need to understand her, to know every desire, every hope and fear and longing, scares me.

“What kind of bouquet do you need?” she asks, tugging the sleeves of her sweatshirt—which I can now see has a slightly faded Charlotte’s Flowers logo on the front—over her fists and bunching them up at her chest.

I squint one eye. “An apology bouquet.”

Her face softens and her hands fall to her sides. “Will…you have nothing to apologize for.”

“I do, though—I said something that really hurt someone, and I don’t know why.” I take two steps closer. “But I want to fix it. I want to make her feel better. So if you could make her a bouquet that you would like to receive, I’d be so grateful.” She watches me closely as I edge even closer to her. “Or…if you’re too busy, maybe I could make her one myself?”

A warm smile curves her full lips and more than ever I want to press mine to hers. I want to lick the sweetness right from her skin. “You don’t need to do that, Will.”

I lift a brow. “Very presumptuous of you, ma’am. You don’t even know the lady.”

She laughs and shakes her head before shifting on her feet. “Fine. I think if the lady in question was hurt—it probably wasn’t your fault.”

I step closer and my senses fill with Annie. She smells like sunlight and sugar cookies. “It was. I called her sexy and it offended her. I think I crossed a line.”

Annie presses the heels of her hands to her eyes. “No. Oh gosh—I’m so embarrassed. Let’s just forget it, please?”

I’m close enough now that I’m able to tug her hands down. “I can’t do that. What happened, Annie? Are you upset that I think you’re sexy? Are you afraid it’s going to change things?”

She squeaks and her eyes clamp shut. “No! I’m upset that you keep feeding me that line over and over.”

I frown. “It’s not a line.”

“Yes, it is. We were in the middle of practicing, and you lured me right into your perfect trap of seduction with your question and then made up the story about the tree and then hooked me with the line about being sexy, and it was just too much. And then I felt silly because I was the one who asked for all of this, but then I got so caught up in it I forgot it was a demonstration again, and—”

I press my hand to her mouth. “None of that was a lie. None. I swear to you—I wasn’t even setting a trap of seduction or whatever you said. The story about the tree was true and something I’ve never told another soul. And the part where I think you’re wildly sexy is true too.” And then I notice tears welling in her eyes again, and now I’m completely lost. I shift my hand from her mouth to clasp the side of her jaw and rub my thumb under her eye—wiping away a tear. “Annie, why does that make you cry?”

She closes her eyes and shakes her head desperately like she’s hoping it will shake her emotions away. “Because…because no one has ever said that about me before.” Those blue eyes open again, and a burst of potent feelings hits me in the chest. “They say it about my sisters—but never me. I’m always praised for being so nice and kind and tender. I’m the girl next door with the sweet face. I’m never viewed as a woman, Will. Instead, I’m just the one men butter up so that I’ll introduce them to Emily and Madison. Even John said…” she trails off.

“What did John say?” I ask feeling every muscle in my body go rigid.

“When I overheard him on the phone telling his friend how boring I was, he also said I was only prettyish.” She smiles sadly.

“I’ll murder him.”

“Will!” Annie reprimands me with a surprised laugh.

“I’m serious, Annie. That guy doesn’t deserve to go on living after making you feel so shitty. Especially after he wore the ugliest baby-blue polo I’ve ever seen on a date.” She laughs, and I shift my hand around to the back of her neck—not willing to let her go yet. “And he’s just plain wrong. First, he was wrong about you being boring. You don’t even need dating lessons, Annie, you were so perfect on our date. Even when you think you’re doing something wrong, you’re so damn adorable I wanted to pull you into my lap and do things with you in the middle of that diner that would have put me in jail for public indecency. Second, he was so wrong about you being only prettyish. God, Annie, you’re drop-dead gorgeous. So beautiful it’s hard to look at you and continue persuading myself that kissing you would be a mistake because of our agreement. And third, your ass.”

She gasps. “What about it?”

“Your ass is a work of art. Two absolutely perfect slopes of soft curvy sensuality that absolutely kill me, Annie. Your ass kills me. And I need you to know that if we weren’t doing this just-friends thing—I would have already…” I let the sentence dangle as my eyes rake over her, implying everything I’ve dreamed of doing with Annie but not saying it out loud because I think I’ve already said too much as it is. And the thing that scares me the most is how desperate I am for her to know all of this and believe it. I’m so good at playing games. At strategically moving pieces around so I can be seductive without ever really having to be real. Without truly risking any feelings. But just now I was more honest and ineloquent than I’ve ever been in my life.

I’m not playing games with Annie—I’m spilling my heart out.

When our gazes lock again, her tears are gone. Instead, her cheeks are rosy and she’s pressing her smile into her knuckles.

I gently angle her face up to look at me. “Do you believe me?”

She nods silently. And then her eyes drop to my lips. “But you were wrong about something.”

“What’s that?”

“It wouldn’t be a mistake to kiss me.”

My heart rams into my ribs. “It wouldn’t?”

“No. In fact, I think we should kiss because I could use the practice.”

“Annie, practicing dating is one thing but—”

“I want to change our original terms too.” She shifts on her feet, and her eyes continue to flit back and forth between my eyes and my mouth. “This whole thing started off with me wanting to get good at dating, but…the more time I spend with you, the more I feel something coming to life inside me. Something I can’t quite pinpoint but I don’t want to lose either. You make me feel different, and I like it. I feel free with you—adventurous and curious.”

She pauses and I don’t dare say anything. I need to hear where this is going without inserting any ideas of my own.

“So I was wondering if you’d be the someone to help me practice taking risks with, doing new things, and…maybe finding who I am now?”

“Be your all-encompassing practice someone?” I ask, letting my thumb drag against her bottom lip.

“If it’s not too much to ask,” she says in a quiet whisper.

“And tonight…you want to practice kissing?”

Her chest fills with a heavy breath and she nods. “I haven’t done it in a few years. I need to shake out the cobwebs. See if I’m any good at it.”

This news is astounding to me.

Even as I’m wrapping my arm around her and splaying my hand against her lower back to pull her up close to me, I ask, “No one has kissed you in years, Annie? How is that possible?” I’ve wanted to kiss her every second since I met her.

I feel her tremble against me. “Maybe there’s something wrong with me. No one ever tries. Even my college boyfriend broke up with me after three weeks without ever really touching me. I think my reputation makes people think I don’t like this stuff.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” I push back the hair that’s falling around her face and do what I’ve been dying to do for days—sink my fingers into the mass of blonde hair behind her head. I bend down and whisper against the corner of her mouth, “Nothing.”

“I might be bad at this,” she warns with her eyes wide open, watching me as I tease the corners of her mouth.

“I’m prepared.” And then just as I’m about to finally close the gap, an idea hits me and I pull away. She looks disappointed, like she thinks I’m changing my mind. No damn way. “In light of what happened at the restaurant, I think we should have a clear cue for when we’re in practice mode. So there’s no confusion.”

She looks relieved. “Good idea. Like…time in and time out?”

I hum. “Perfect.”

The tension between us is crackling, and I can tell she wants me to rush this and kiss her already, but the truth is, I love drawing it out. I love taking my time and torturing us both. And if Annie hasn’t been kissed in years, I want to make this one really count.

I sink my face down to her throat and lay one soft kiss at the base. Her breath catches and I move to kiss under her jaw, opening my mouth to feel her warm skin against my tongue. She shivers, and I smile, moving up to kiss the corner of her jaw and then her mouth. The moment her warm, plush lips press into mine, my world tilts. Any finesse or control I feel dissolves, and suddenly I am at her mercy.

Her body sways toward mine, and even though I’m not taking it further than a press of our lips, it feels outrageously good. I slide my hand a little deeper into the back of her hair and force myself to keep this light despite a frantic need building below the surface.

I only intended for it to be quick. A luxurious kiss on the mouth to make her body heat. But damn. Her lips respond to mine as she rises up to wrap her hands around my neck and my blood thrums under my skin. My fingers curl into her hair and the back of her sweatshirt until I’m unconsciously pulling her flush against me. She’s so damn soft, and as I slant the kiss, I can’t help but taste her mouth just once, letting my tongue glide lightly across her bottom lip.

Annie sighs a moan and parts her lips and that’s when I drop my hands under her thighs and hoist her up. She wraps her legs around my waist and our kiss quickly turns from chaste to devouring. I’m carrying her to the storage room, head swirling like I’ve had four shots of tequila and savoring every sigh, every flick of her tongue, every intentional press of her mouth. And as I adjust to walk through the doorframe, my shoulder knocks against it and shocks me back to reality. What the hell am I doing? I can’t take Annie in there. This was only supposed to be a kiss. I want so much more than a kiss from her, though, and that’s why I break the kiss and slowly lower her to the ground. She doesn’t protest, seeming to agree with my thoughts.

“Time out,” I say, when I release her and pace away a few steps, rubbing the back of my neck, trying to settle my body and clear my head.

Get a grip, Will. It was just a kiss. Just practice.

“Was that okay?” Annie asks, self-consciously, and the very question is as absurd to me as the fact that she feels any reason to doubt her skill.

With my hand still hooked around my neck, I look over at her knowing she can plainly see on my face how absolutely wrecked I am by that kiss. I give her one scoffing laugh. “Yeah. It was great.”

Annie turns away a fraction and smiles to herself, and then does something so open, so honest it tears my cynical, terrified heart in half. She rests the tips of her fingers against her smiling mouth.

Before she has time to notice, I pull out my phone and snap a picture of her standing there in the warm overhead lights of her shop.

“Out of curiosity,” I ask later as she’s locking up and I’m walking her to her truck. “What is your favorite flower?”

She drops her gaze to her white Converses and smiles. “Magnolias.”