Blooming Backwards

We arrive at the lake house—or more like a mansion. The place practically glows against the night sky, perched at the edge of the water like something out of a movie. It’s the kind of place where the rooms seem to go on forever, where every surface gleams and the furniture looks too expensive to touch. Like most kids at our school, Johnny Castile comes from money. The kind that doesn’t blink at renting out lakefront property just to throw a party.My family does okay, but since the divorce, things have been complicated. My dad’s got a new wife, new kids, and just enough guilt to make sure I never go without—so long as I don’t ask for too much. There’s always a price. He helps me, but it’s always with conditions. And Anna, his wife? She acts like she’s doing me a favor by letting me stay under her roof. Her latest kick is putting me on some kind of diet. I stash snacks in my duffel bag like contraband just to get through the weekends there.Inside, the music hits like a punch to the ch

The lavender walls of Room 3 were freshly painted, but you could still smell the Sharpie graffiti under the surface.Minnie stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching two of her teens argue over a basketball game that had somehow become a screaming match about whose mom made better mac and cheese.“Enough,” she said, not raising her voice. Her tone had that quiet power—like the calm before a storm. The boys froze.“You’ve got two options. Shake hands and hit the gym… or clean bathrooms for a week.”They shook hands so fast she had to bite back a grin.The day was almost done, and the group home was finally settling down. Minnie tucked her purple hair into a loose bun and tugged down her hoodie. She was still curvy—and still fabulous. Tattoos danced along her forearms in soft black lines, a constellation of pain and power, growth and grit. Her silver nose ring shimmered under the flickering hallway lights.“Boss lady,” called out Dez, one of the newer staff, “you heading out?”“Meeti

Ryan wrapped up the last of his presentation with practiced ease. “So, yeah. That’s where I’m at. Wrestling helped me figure out what I wanna be, instead of just what I’m mad at.”Silence followed—brief but thick.Johnny Castile leaned back in the visitor chair, arms folded, his sharp gaze steady on Ryan. Then, with a nod, he finally said, “You’re honest. That counts. Discipline matters. And not letting anger run you? That’s real power.”Ryan grinned, trying not to show how proud he was. “Thanks, man. Appreciate that.”Johnny stood, smoothing the sleeves of his tailored suit. The silver watch on his wrist caught the overhead lights, a quiet flash of wealth and time. “You’ve got a good coach.”Ryan nodded, jerking his thumb toward Minnie. “She’s tough. Doesn’t let me slack.”Johnny turned to her again, something unreadable flickering across his face. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “I can see that.”Minnie offered a calm smile. “We appreciate your time. There’s more on our expansion plan in th

Minerva was mad. Not at Johnny Castile—well, okay, a little—but mostly at herself.She sat in the passenger seat of her receptionist’s little green Prius, trying to focus on the chatter from the driver’s side, but her mind kept replaying every second of that meeting. His voice. His cologne. The way he said Minerva, like he actually knew what the goddess stood for. The way he looked at her, like there was more behind those eyes than boardrooms and gold medals.Why was she still shaken?“Girl, I still can’t believe that was the Johnny Castile,” her receptionist Lani said, easing into a parking spot outside the bistro. “Like, Captain of the wrestling team, Olympic hero, billionaire fine-ass security tech genius Johnny Castile?”Minerva gave a tight smile. “The one and only.”Lani laughed. “You were stone cold. I was proud. If that man looked at me like that, I’d need CPR and a cooling rag. You okay?”“I’m fine,” Minnie lied. “Just…hoping it doesn’t mess with the funding.”They walked int

JohnnyThis was supposed to be a business dinner.A clean, easy night. Talk strategy. Learn more about the woman who made him feel like gravity wasn’t real. Maybe smile a little. Maybe make her smile, too.But then Lauren showed up.Uninvited.“I’m sorry,” Dane muttered under his breath as they stood in the middle of the private dining room, the clink of silverware and quiet jazz no match for the frost now hanging between Johnny and Lauren.“You shouldn’t be here,” Johnny said, jaw tight.Lauren blinked, all fake innocence and glossy lips. “It’s a public place, John. You’re not the only one with taste.”“It’s a private reservation,” he snapped. “This is a business dinner.”She glanced toward the table where Minnie sat, composed but clearly trying not to glare a hole through the linen. “Doesn’t look like business,” Lauren purred. “Unless cocoa butter’s part of your quarterly forecast.”Behind her, Dane cleared his throat too loud and mumbled, “She’s got jokes now.”Lauren ignored him.