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"It has to be the roses." I answered.
Larissa's blank stare answered the question on the tip of my tongue; she didn't know.
"Roses?" she asked, flicking her eyes between us.
I sighed heavily, cutting my eyes to the right. I was surprised to find an amused smirk on Ahren's face.
"What?" his hands flew up in mock surrender. "I want to hear this story as much as she does."
"Fine," I said, scowling playfully at him.
"Six years ago, I started getting top rated jobs. I busted my ass and climbed the ranks to get there, mind you. Anyhoo, once I realized they were pitting me against the best, I knew I had to up my game. I went from losing one out of twelve to losing three in a row."
I tucked my fingers beneath my thighs to keep from fidgeting, and continued. "I did what any ambitious up-and-comer does."
"You researched your competition,"
"Research."
They answered in unison, both nodding in agreement.
I laughed. I highly doubted either of them had resorted to stalking someone to get a leg up, but just the thought that we were all even close to the same page struck me as funny. Within moments, they joined me for a much needed moment of levity.
"I still don't understand how that connects to roses." Larissa said, her quiet laughter subsiding.
"I was getting to that." I said, sticking out my tongue. "Anyway, I was tending the white roses in my greenhouse. Which are most certainly dead at this point." I added. The realization yet another wound I would need to heal from.
"I got the idea of leaving a white rose for Rossdale every time I beat him to a kill. On the fourth job, I got the kill."
"So you left him roses." Her words more question than statement.
I nodded, turning to Ahren, hoping he would finish for me, but he seemed to have no intention of doing anything of the sort, so I continued.
"After his next kill, he left a white rose on the lamppost outside my house. He kept the roses I left and preserved them with the date they were left."
Larissa's mouth hung open, her eyes swinging to Ahren. "That's—I didn't know. No wonder you needed me to save her." She murmured.
"So you two saved each other's roses. That's—fuck. Am I allowed to call hired killers sweet?" her eyes softened as she looked between us, like a schoolgirl watching a cheesy romantic comedy.
His eyes flicked to mine, something unreadable dancing behind those pools of honey. Fuck! I did not want to be called out like this. I had hoped he and I would be on more solid ground when we had this conversation.
I swallowed hard, shaking my head softly. My eyes dropped to the table, unable to meet either of their gazes."No. I um. Well, I was competitive and angry—stupid. I was stupid, and I—threw mine away. "
Chapter 37
AHREN
Tierney went ashen, her pale blue eyes dropping to the table. My eyes drilled into her, willing her to look up.
For her part, Connor had gone silent, realizing the slip up. She'd mumbled something about needing to use the bathroom and wandered off, leaving us to talk alone.
"I'm not mad." I said quietly. "They're just flowers."
"I still don't know why you saved mine. I left them as angry taunts; you read them as love notes. How can we make a relationship work when we clearly don't speak the same language?" Her defeated tone twisted something deep inside me.
"This isn't going to work."
She nodded, her eyes still downcast. "I under-"