I pushed my eggs around my plate, my shoulders rigid and my lips pursed while the sun danced lazily over the garden table. The aroma of roses did its best to ease the tension that lingered between us and I kind of liked it, I love roses but the man before me was so annoying and he might laugh at me if I tell him to get me one.

But are they even real roses?

Whatever.

The gentle breeze teasingly brushed through my loose hair. He watched me. Yet again. He had been acting that way ever ...