Tongue Tied by Cassie Mint

I’m on the college debate team. I’m good at talking.
But when the head gardener looks at me, I can barely make a squeak.
When I was little, I got teased for having a stutter. All the other kids chattered away, while I struggled to form simple words.
I worked hard, had help, and got over that, damn it. I moved on. But when the handsome gardener looks my way in his fogged-up greenhouse, I’m tongue tied all over again.
He’s just so tall, and broad, and there’s this steadiness to him. Like the earth could crack apart, and he’d still be standing firm. Rooted deep.
When his green eyes find mine, I can barely stammer hello.
But my fierce blush does the talking for me…