Thorn (Carmichael Series #5)✔️

Movie Night Disaster

**HEY GUYS! Here's the second chapter!! For those of you who were messaging me with issues viewing the first chapter, I just realized that it somehow got unpublished and was just sitting there as a draft! I hope that I fixed the issue, so let me know! PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO COMMENT AND LIKE! I wanna know what you guys think!**

Tansy's POV

I begrudgingly trudged back downstairs before plopping down on the sofa, practically on top of Brock.

"Get your fat ass off me Tansy!" Brock hollered as his friends laughed. I stayed exactly where I was, laughing at his annoyance.

"Shut it or I'll give you a very detailed description of what I just walked in on." I fired back. His nose scrunched up in disgust before he muttered fucking asshole under his breath and stopped his efforts of trying to push me off.

"What time do you guys go back to school?" I asked him, needing to know when his dad would be in a better mood so I could come over more often. It doesn't surprise me that with all these little assholes around 24/7 due to winter break, he and Poppy were constantly getting interrupted. It was easy to forget that it was technically winter, as the temperature had been fairly nice the entirety of the season. Perks of living in the South.

"First of January - so tomorrow." He said, clearly unhappy about that fact.

"Sucks being a little 17-year-old, doesn't it?" I taunted him. He glared at me once before finally managing to kick me off the couch and onto the floor with one powerful shove.

"Well, that's my cue to leave. I guess tell your mom to call me when she gets freed up." I snickered before snatching my keys from the floor where they'd fallen out of my pocket and leaving.

I completely zoned out while driving home, my mind being elsewhere. Snapping out of it, I blinked a few times before pulling my keys from the ignition and roughly rubbing my face with my hands.

"Fuck, I gotta stop doing that." I murmured to myself before heading up to my apartment. After having taken over my mother's floral shop completely - because Poppy had a bleeding heart and felt the take over the older couple's diner - I started doing really well for myself. The shop was something I was really passionate about. It was all my mom and I had growing up. I can remember the countless nights I would spend doing my homework in the back, coming up with a unique new arrangement, or reading a book in the cool room as the pungent smell of flowers surrounded me, invading my every pore.

That was what I was known for all of high school. The flowers had permanently permeated my body, causing me to carry the scent with me everywhere I went - not that I was complaining. I'd come to discover that flowers were something I was extremely good at, and it quickly became my passion. The thrill of coming up with the perfect combination of a focal flower with it's surrounding accents was like a drug to me. The bright, beautiful colors added joy to my life that made me forget all about my father's painful abandonment when I was six.

Though flowers weren't miracle workers, and there were those days when I would get caught up in my thoughts. They were usually brought on by one of our many regulars coming in for an arrangement just to ensure they would be getting laid after their date was said and done. Every one of them had the exact same qualities; smooth-shaven face, perfectly styled hair, crisp dress shirt paired with a meticulously chosen tie, an expensive wristwatch, and a killer smile. Had I not seen them at least four to five times a month, I probably would've fallen for their charm, too. I prayed for the girls they sought out as their victims because all they would ever get is a possibly free meal, a beautiful bouquet of flowers, and a lousy lay at the end of the night.