Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
?? LONDON, ENGLAND
R owan’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel of his Porsche as he drove through her neighbourhood. With the faint melody of music filling the void of silence, he wasn’t certain why he longed to hear her voice—the sarcasm dripping from her words, the delighted tone she’d take whenever she spoke of something that had made her laugh or smile, the way she’d spit out her phrase if he ever irritated her.
He couldn’t help but glance at Avery who had been oddly silent since they left the pub. To be honest, Rowan wasn’t sure why he had offered to drive her home in the first place.
Temple resting against the window, her eyes were closed as her brows were drawn together.
“You okay, sunflower?” he asked softly. Too softly. “Stay with me, yeah?”
He saw her nod from the corner of his eye. By the GPS’ indications, they would be at her house in less than two minutes.
“Sunflower?” she echoed, straightening herself.
“Yeah,” he said, focusing on the route ahead. “You remind me of one.”
Rowan didn’t care about the words slipping out. She wouldn’t remember any of tonight’s events, anyway.
“Why?”
He could now feel her regard on him. Curious. Intrigued.
Avery reminded him of a sunflower because shewould always stand out amongst a field of flowers. Because she would always be attracted to sunlight, gravitating towards positivity, no matter how dark her entourage was. Because she was radiant in her own, unique way.
“Just because,” was his vague reply.
“You’re going to call me everything but Ava, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because it annoys you and I love annoying you.” And he also knew that he was the only person to call her by her full name, which gave him a sense of ownership over her—like she was his in a way. But he kept that to himself.
“Charming.”
“Don’t be sick.” He stopped in front of a two-story house when the GPS indicated they had arrived at their destination. “We’re here.”
“I wouldn’t dare ruin your pretty car,” she mumbled, straightening herself as she looked out the window.
“Thank you for caring about Percival’s well-being.”
“You named the car Percival?”
He put the blinker on. “Yes, and?”
“That’s very Rowan of you." Her words were slow, slurred. Though she had been funny the entire night, he couldn’t help but be slightly concerned about her state.
His response was a simple hum.
“Thanks, Rowan.” Even now, her voice was feathery and sweet-sounding, like a soft caress against the shell of his ear.
“Hang on,” he murmured. “I’ll walk you inside. Is anyone home?”
“Gabe should be here.”
“Gabe?” He felt his throat tighten as he put his left hand over the back of the passenger’s headrest seat to parallel park. He used the heel of his palm to do so, smirking when he felt her staring at him.
“My roomie,” she answered dully. “I call him Hercules because he’s very muscular. Pretty sure his boyfriend calls him that, too.”
Oh. Gay roommate.
“Makes sense. Come on, let’s get you somewhere safe.”
She laughed, and even though the sound was caused by her drunken state, it was a beautiful melody he wished she’d make more around him.
“Being home doesn’t mean I won’t jump and sing around,” she supplied with a grin as she got out of the car.
Rowan shook his head and reached to the back seat to grab her purse and coat she had refused to put on. Stubborn woman.
She wasn’t exactly walking straight to her front door, so he rapidly caught up to her just to make sure she wouldn’t fall and hurt herself.
“Be quiet.” Pressing her forefinger to her lips, she knocked on the door with her other hand.
Rowan couldn’t help but chuckle.
“I said shut up,” she hissed loudly, which caused him to snort.
He was about to retort when her back collided with his chest, his lungs suddenly giving up on him at the contact. He stilled. Ceased to breathe.
“Rowan…”
He swallowed. “Yes?”
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
He winced and looped his arm around her waist. Fuck . She was tiny in his arms. Fitted perfectly. “No, you’re not.”
“You always have to fight me,” she complained.
He grinned down at her, but her absent stare was on the door. “Yeah, I do.”
When the door opened, Rowan didn’t know why he couldn’t let go of Avery.
A tall man with dark skin stood in the doorway, a set of headphones around his neck and a bowl of popcorn in hand. Plaid pyjama pants hung on his hips and a wool jumper clung to his muscular chest. That would be Gabe.
He blinked at Avery, looked at Rowan, stared at Avery, then burst out in laughter.
“Oh, this is fucking epic,” he mocked before waving a finger in Avery’s face. She tried to bite him and Rowan laughed. “This is even funnier than finding you in Green Park sleeping on a bench with a squirrel trying to get inside your bag.”
Rowan made a mental note to ask about that later.
“Not a word,” Avery whispered loudly.
Gabe didn’t acknowledge her demand and slipped his gaze to Rowan.
The athlete nudged his chin. “I’m Rowan.”
Gabe lifted his brows. “I know who you are. You’re just the last person I expected her to come home with.”
Rowan’s jaw tightened. “I’m just dropping her off. She’s smashed.”
“I can see that.” Gabe smiled softly at his friend. “That’s nice of him. Right, Ave?”
Avery shrugged, yet she still leaned against him. “He’s Satan.”
“Wow,” Rowan deadpanned. “Evermore the sweetest person I know.”
Gabe gestured to Rowan. “I think you should thank Satan for driving you home, love.”
Avery shifted to look up into his eyes.
Double fuck. Those dark, pretty eyes would ruin him. So would her mouth. All of her, really. “Can you walk me to my room? Just to make sure I don’t get sick.”
Rowan threw his head back. Huffed. Watched the thick cloud of air fade away in the night sky. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Avery.”
“It’s Ava,” she countered. “Please?”
“God,” he grumbled. “Just because I’m not an asshole.”
“You are, though.”
“Just not today.”
“Not today,” she agreed and stepped inside the house. He blinked before he could think of how he instantly started missing the warmth of her body.
Gabe stepped aside to allow them to enter, a grin on his lips.
“I’m Gabriel, but you can call me Gabe,” he said as soon as Rowan passed the threshold. “I hope you know I’ll never let Ava forget this.”
“Oh, I’m fucking counting on it.”
From where he stood, leaning against the doorframe, he watched Avery fall on her bed, a loud huff escaping her throat.
“Good night.”
Her room was exactly the way he would imagine it to be. Not that he had ever thought about her, or her bedroom before.
Because she travelled a lot, she had a small room which, he supposed, wasn’t occupied that often. There was a bookshelf next to the window where numerous books were organised by colour. Two shelves were dedicated to motorsports, though, a few car replicas adorning one of them. On the other were picture frames, paddock passes, and lanyards. He was in awe of her small cocoon; it resembled her personality a lot.
He pinched his brows together when he focused his attention on her. “You’re not going to sleep in your clothes, are you?”
She glared at him as he crossed his arms across his chest. “Yes, I am. What are you going to do about it?”
“Take your shoes off.”
“I don’t take orders from you, Emerson.”
“Actually, you do.” He raised his eyebrows in defiance when she propped herself on her elbows and narrowed her eyes. “Come on. Don’t make me come insideand do it for you.”
She fell onto her back again. “But I’m so sleepy.”
“I know, sunflower.” With a resigned sigh, he pushed himself off the doorjamb. “Can I come inside or are you going to throw a pillow at me?”
“I’m too tired to throw something at you.”
“Is that a yes?”
She nodded.
Rowan sucked in a breath and stepped inside, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn’t even know why he was suddenly so nervous. He’d been inside women’s bedrooms before.
“The room’s spinning,” Avery complained, using the pads of her pointer fingers to rub her temples.
He twisted his mouth in a grimace. “Ah, shit. Hang on, yeah? Gabe is getting you a glass of water and will give you painkillers for the morning.”
She paused. “You’re not staying?”
He clenched his jaw and kneeled on the floor next to her bed. “No.”
“Oh,” she whispered. “Okay.”
Clearing his throat, he kept his gaze on her heeled boots. “I’m going to touch you now to take your shoes off, okay?”
He didn’t hear a vocal response.
“Avery,” he pressed. “I need your words.”
He lifted his head to watch her prop herself on her elbows again. She blinked. He blinked back. “Yes, you can take them off. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, sunflower.”
Delicately, he took ahold of her calf and unzipped her boot on the side. Just as gingerly, he took the shoe off her foot and repeated the action with the other one.
“Don’t fall asleep,” he demanded softly, suppressing the urge to caress her jean-clad shin.
“I won’t.” He rose to his full height and, as much as he wanted to look at her and linger his gaze on her generous curves and pristine physique, he slipped his gaze to the plant next to her nightstand. He wouldn’t take advantage of her—not now, not ever. “You’re nice.”
The corner of his lips curved upwards. “Nice? Come on. I deserve a better compliment. Like, incredible, extremely good-looking, and hilarious.”
Avery only huffed, shifting around in her bed, and tugged a pillow down to where she was lying to rest her head against it. “Good night. You know where the front door is.”
“Fucking rude.” Planting his hands on his hips, he sighed. “You need to take your contacts and makeup off.”
Rowan himself was baffled by the fact that he had remembered she wore contact lenses.
“But I’m lazy.”
“Just one last effort.”
Honestly, Rowan didn’t know why he was sticking around and helping. He could have left as soon as he had dropped her off—Gabriel would have taken great care of her.
“No.”
“Don’t make me drag your butt into your bathroom.”
She gasped loudly. God, wasn’t she dramatic. “You wouldn’t dare.”
His brows shot up as an amused smirk spread across his lips. “Don’t challenge me.”
“I’m not moving. My bed is very comfy.”
“Well, then. You asked for it.”
He grabbed her ankles and pulled her towards the end of the bed, gently. He could only feel a sliver of skin below the hem of her jeans, but the contact of her flesh beneath the palms of his hands made chills rush down his spine.
A surprised, soft squeal echoed in the room.
“You’re manhandling me!” she exclaimed with outrage.
He chuckled and grabbed her wrist to pull her into a sitting position. “Yeah, because you’re not listening to me.”
Without letting his grunt of resentment be too audible, he slipped an arm beneath her knees with the other braced behind her back as he pulled her into his chest.
“You’re not carrying me princess-style,” she huffed yet looped her arms around his neck. “I’m heavy. Put me down, and I promise I’ll walk like a big girl.”
He glared down at her, a small crease making its appearance between his brows. A rapid surge of anger flared inside his chest as he said, “You’re as light as a feather, Avery. I liftdouble your weight at the gym.”
“Huh,” she snickered. “I wonder who I should start calling Hercules now.”
“Idiot.” Yet he couldn’t hide the way his lips were threatening to break into a full grin as he walked towards the en-suite bathroom. “Too late. I wanted to carry you like a potato sack, but you would have vomited on my jeans.”
He flipped the light on with his elbow and set her on the countertop.
Putting as much distance as he could between them, and not appreciating the way he enjoyed having her in his arms, he leaned against the doorframe and jutted his chin in her direction. “Contact lenses out, love.”
Avery rolled her eyes and hopped down. “So bossy.”
“You’re usually the bossy one, so I can, for once, give you some orders.”
She threw a glare his way through the mirror’s reflection. “Me? The bossy one? Have you met yourself?”
His smile was all smugness and pomposity. “The way I am makes me unique, sunflower.”
“Whatever.”
She washed her hands and took her contacts out as Rowan watched her, unaware of the admiration drawing itself upon his features. She was concentrated on her actions and, for some bizarre reason, he couldn’t help but think she looked adorable with her rosy cheeks, her wild and big eyes, and her untamed curls because of the way she had moved at the pub.
“All done.”
He blinked, regaining composure. “Makeup?”
Avery had the nerve to ignore his question. Brushing past him, she went back into her room and sat on the bed to take her socks off.
Rowan sighed, sliding his gaze to the bathroom counter where her beauty items were. Poking the interiorof his cheek with his tongue, he shook his head and grabbed cotton pads along with the bottle of makeup remover.
When he stepped into the bedroom, his breath caught and disappeared somewhere inside his lungs at the sight of Avery passed out on the bed. She was lying on her back, one hand on her stomach as the other lay limp at her side. Steady puffs of breath escaped her parted lips, her chest rising and falling in sync with her serene breathing.
“You did not just fall asleep.” He gently poked her knee, but when she didn’t stir, he raked his fingers through his hair, sighing. “Damn it, Avery.”
Sitting by her side, he poured some makeup remover on the pad before inching his hand towards her peaceful face.
“Sorry for touching you without your permission,” he murmured, delicately pushing rogue strands of hair away from her forehead. He cupped her cheek and held her in place, finding every ounce of control he possessed not to caress her silken skin. Carefully, he removed her mascara, and she didn’t so much as stir. “I have a sister, and I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve had to help her take her makeup off before she went to bed totally smashed. She basically forced me to do it the first few times, but she told me it’s very bad to sleep with all that shit on your face. So yeah, I guess this is me being nice to you, sunflower.”
Refusing to linger his stare on her features, he went back into the bathroom to throw the used cotton pad away and turned the lights off. He couldn’t leave until he was sure she was warm enough. So, he found the blanket she had left on a reading chair by the window and draped it over her body.
“If Ava had told me you had a soft heart beneath all those tattoos, I wouldn’t have believed her.”
Rowan’s lips curled upwards at the sound of Gabe’s remark. He found the man standing in the doorway, a bottle of water in hand.
Finally, Rowan stepped out of the room that smelled like soft vanilla and flowers. “Don’t tell her what you’ve seen. She’ll let it get to her head and never stop taunting me for my kindness.”
Gabe laughed quietly. “You got it. Thanks, man. You really didn’t have to do all that.”
“I know.” He patted Gabe’s shoulder. “You take care of her, yeah?”
“Of course.”
Rowan walked away and didn’t turn around even though his head—or his heart, he didn’t really know—screamed at him to go back and finish what he had started.