Here With You (A Laurel Heights Novel) - By Kate Perry Page 0,5

we're like siblings, and incest grosses both of us out." She gave him a knowing look. "Don't tell me you've never kissed Nicole."

"Kiss" didn't begin to describe it. It'd been more like a wake-up call. He started to get turned on just thinking about the softness of her lips on his. He hadn't meant to do it—it'd been a heat-of-the-moment sort of thing—and now he couldn't get it out of his head.

He wanted to do it again. He wanted to kiss more than just her lips.

"I rest my case," KT said smugly.

He raked a hand through his hair. "I couldn't help myself. I just leaned down and went for it. I'm surprised she didn't slap me, and I can't believe she didn't tell me to take a hike."

"She loves you, too."

"Nine years ago, I left her and never called. She should hate me."

KT shrugged. "Love is a strange emotion."

"Love is overstating it."

"There are all sorts of love. It morphs and changes." She got up and patted his shoulder. "I hope in this case it morphs into what you want."

That was the thing: he didn't know what that was. He'd come back because he had this damn album to write and he'd lost his motivation. He'd closed his last tour date with Lost and had thought of Nicole, like he always did when he played that song, since it was about her. He'd walked off the stage, almost oblivious to the applause as he remembered how excited he'd been to write music back when he'd known her.

Somewhere along the way he'd lost that excitement.

He wasn't used to not knowing what he wanted. He was tired. He'd been on autopilot and couldn't remember what passion felt like.

Nicole had always been passionate about everything she did: drawing, dancing, reading... even babysitting. Her focus changed like the wind, but then that was her charm. Her enthusiasm had been infectious. Around her, life had been bright and inspiring.

He missed her. Obstructing her from his life had been the biggest mistake he'd ever made.

It'd been a crazy idea to track her down and—basically—accost her, but he'd been desperate. He was lucky she'd agreed. He knew he didn't deserve it. He'd just have to make sure he was worthy of her friendship this time.

KT patted his shoulder again. "You better suck up to her big time. Take her flowers or something."

"You think flowers would help?"

"Hell if I know." She tossed the pillow aside. "My sister gets squeally when her beaus send her stuff like that. It's a woman thing, right?"

"Aren't you a woman?"

She recoiled as if he'd insulted her. "Please."

Laughing, he half hugged her. "Thanks for letting me crash in your sanctuary. Thanks for being my friend."

She snorted but hugged him back. "Don't think this gives you an open door back when Nicole kicks you out."

Nicole wouldn't kick him out. He was going to make sure of it, and he wasn't going to question why it seemed do-or-die.

He loaded his few belongings into his vintage Chevy and then headed to the address Nicole had given him of the store where she worked. According to his GPS, it was a short trip. KT lived on the upper edge of the neighborhood.

Miraculously, he found a spot big enough to park his car. As he maneuvered into it, his phone rang with "Eye of the Tiger."

His manager's special ringtone. Grif knew exactly what Roddy would say. Where are you? Don't you know you have to tell me how to locate you? Are you writing? When the hell are you coming back? Roddy Gallagher was a shark, but he was predictable.

Grif silenced the phone and got out of the car. Later he'd talk to Roddy. Now he had to focus.

As he pulled up the address Nicole had texted him, he spotted a florist on the map.

He paused. Take KT's advice to heart? She wasn't a normal woman—she preferred spending time with her piano over any human, himself and her sister Bijou excepted. But she'd said Bijou loved flowers, and he couldn't think of a girlier girl than Bijou Taylor.

Flowers couldn't hurt. He headed to the shop, which was only a couple blocks away.

"Back to the Fuchsia," he read out loud as he approached. Cute. The door was open, and the space was inviting.

A thin brunette came out from behind a worktable as he walked in. "Can I help you?"

"I'd like"—he took off his sunglasses and surveyed all the colors, sizes, and shapes of flowers before pointing to pink ones in the