Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
?? MIAMI, UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
“ I s oat milk okay for you?”
“Pardon?” Ava chuckled as she came out of Rowan’s bathroom.
She had changed into his shirt after cleaning up and tying her hair into a messy bun. His musky cologne was slowly becoming her favourite scent, and she couldn’t deny she had taken a whiff of the piece of clothing after shrugging it on.
Earlier tonight, she hadn’t managed to fall asleep, so she watched One Tree Hill on her iPad whilst Rowan was clubbing. But when he came back at one a.m., he had texted her to see if she wanted to hang out.
He had kissed her until she was weak in the knees the instant she entered his room. Had ended up kneeling before her, head between her thighs and tongue on her clit, one of her legs hooked on his shoulder as she leaned against the wall for support. She had barely taken her shorts off, only leaving her in a tank top.
Though she was comfortable with everything they were doing, Ava wasn’t ready to show her whole body to Rowan. She was still terribly insecure, lacking self-confidence even if she felt beautiful under his scrutiny.
She was grateful for him because he’d never pressured her into undressing—in comparison to boys she had slept with before. He’d never rushed her for anything. Actually, it seemed like he wanted to take his time to explore her likes and dislikes.
After he had made her come for the first time, he had asked if she wanted to try something new. Ava had then sat on his face whilst sucking on his thick shaft, and she had swallowed every drop of his release.
“Oat milk,” Rowan said when she marched further into his room. “With your cereal.”
He lifted two bowls, grinning coyly. His dark hair was ruffled, the tops of his cheekbones slightly rosy. Basketball shorts were hanging on his hips, all his tattoos on display just for her.
“That’s fine.” She smiled and sat on the floor across from him. “Is this going to be a ritual for us? Eating after hooking up?”
He handed her a bowl and a spoon. “It can be.”
She chuckled at the sight of Cocoa Puffs filling her bowl, shaking her head in bafflement. She took a spoonful, humming in delight when the sweetness collided with her palate. When she looked up, she found Rowan staring at her, a soft smile tugging his lips upwards.
“What?” she asked, hand shielding her mouth.
He shook his head, lowering his gaze. “Nothing.”
“You’re not looking at me like it’s nothing.”
“No, really,” he said. “It’s silly.”
“Come on,” she said, nudging his knee with hers. “A secret for a secret.”
Delicately, he collected a drop of milk on the corner of her mouth, smiling tenderly when her face flushed with thorough embarrassment. He winked to put her at ease, and she rolled her eyes, feigning annoyance.
“You look so cute in my clothes,” he murmured.
“Wow,” she droned mockingly. “Look at you complimenting me.”
“This is usually the moment you thank me.”
“I was getting there.” She pushed her glasses up her nose. “Thank you.”
Was hanging out with him and wearing his clothes after hooking up too intimate? Certainly, but some parts of her didn’t mind that domesticity.
“What’s your secret?” he asked after swallowing.
Ava looked down at her cereal, shaking her head at the first thought that invaded her mind.
“You have to tell me,” he pressed gently.
“You’re going to think I’m stupid and immature.”
He shrugged. “Your words, not mine.” She glared at him, and he laughed. “Sorry. Sorry. I promise I won’t laugh at you.”
She breathed heavily, looking out the window. “I’m a bit terrified, Rowan.”
“Of what?”
“Of this.” She found his gaze, her chest tightening at the sight of stars shimmering along his pupils. “Of us. I’m scared you’re going to hurt me.”
She was growing some kind of affection for him. As his press officer, she was protective and wanted what was best for him. But as his…friend, she was starting to get attached. And her first mistake had been letting her walls down too easily and quickly.
He frowned and settled his bowl down to the side. He did the same with hers before pulling her onto his lap. “You know, I’m terrified, too.”
“You are?”
“Yeah.” He breathed out, looping his arms around her waist and burying his face in the crook of her neck. She relaxed in his embrace, returning the hug, aligning the drum of their heartbeats so they could thump in harmony. “You make me feel some type of way, and it’s scary. But I’m never going to hurt you. Ever. I’m not going to be the guy who treats you like you’re not the sunbeam that you are. I’m not the guy who’s going to make you believe you’re a burden in any kind of way. I’m going to be the one who gives you the entire world if you ask for it. And I’m not going to let you push me away just because I’m getting close to you.”
“Why?”
“Because I think you’re worth fighting for. As a friend. As my publicist who goes through thick and thin to keep my reputation clean. And as the woman who, for some weird reason, sees me for someone else other than the cocky driver.”
To her, Rowan had always been more than an arrogant and smug driver. He’d always been secretive in a way, urging her to know everything about him. And now that he was allowing her to see more of his true nature, she wasn’t certain she wanted to imagine a life where Rowan wasn’t part of hers.
“Your cockiness is sometimes a bit overbearing,” she taunted.
“You love me the way I am.”
“You wish.” She held her breath then, tightening her hold over him. “Doesn’t seem super casual to me.”
Rowan didn’t say anything for a few heartbeats as he sighed. Then, came his honesty: “I don’t care. Is it bothering you?”
“No,” she said earnestly. “I just don’t want either of us to be confused.”
“I’m not. I think we’re on the same wavelength.”
“So do I."
“This is nice,” he mumbled. She noticed how his embrace had tightened as well.
She smiled, loving this soft side of his. With her, Rowan Emerson wasn’t the handsome, fearless, tattooed driver. He was just a human being, seeking affection, and not realising he was fully adored. “It is.”
“Come.” He stood to his feet, dragging her with him before walking them over to the large window.
Music was playing softly in the background. He lifted their hands above her head to make her spin around, catching her and making her dip.
She laughed. “You dance?”
“Only with you,” he answered with a broad smile.
The moonlight was spilling on them, and she was enthralled by his effortless beauty. The silvery glow cast an almost invisible halo above his head—a simple proof from the universe that Rowan was an angel despite the fact he was convinced he wasn’t a good man.
He made her spin again. “You love romance and cliché gestures.”
“How do you know?”
“I’ve seen the books you read. Is your dream coming true by dancing to Kiss Me by Sixpence None The Richer?”
She retained her smile from growing as she made him pivot, a heartfelt laugh erupting from his throat. “It would be even better under the pouring rain.”
Rowan scoffed. “Of course. Do you also dream of an angry love confession under the rain?”
“Every girl does,” she said promptly.
“I see.”
“You’re not that much of a romantic, are you?”
“How can I be when romance wasn’t something that existed in the house I grew up in?” Rowan lifted his shoulders in a small shrug. “I don’t know a single thing about love.”
Ava wanted to tell him that even if he didn’t believe in love, he was doing a great job at opening up. At slowly accepting that he was deserving of love, too. She was secretly hoping to mend the shattered fragments of his heart so that he could feel how appreciated he was.
They danced under the moonlight filtering through the window, sharing secrets and quiet laughter, engulfed in their own cosmos.
There was something so innately beautiful about this man—this man who’d deemed himself unworthy of every good thing life had to offer.
Basking in the silvery splatter of the moonlight’s glow, Ava forgot about the song playing in the background as she allowed his fingers to tighten around hers. She scanned his sharp profile and its enticing features, listening to the vibration in his throat as he hummed to the music. Rowan made her spin around again, caught her, and placed a delicate caress on her hipbone which nearly made her tremble.
The corner of his lips twitched upwards. Like he knew exactly what she was thinking and why she’d become immobile all of a sudden.
“I know I’m pretty to look at.” The baritone of Rowan’s voice sent a chill rolling down her spine. “Should I pose for you? I bet I look handsome under the moonlight. You could use the photo as your new lockscreen.”
She scoffed. Such a conceited prick. “No, thanks.”
After five songs, Rowan winced slightly.
“Are you okay?” Ava asked, concerned.
He let go of her hands to rub his shoulder. “Just a bit sore from today’s race.”
Ava should have told him to get some rest. Should have wished him a good night of sleep then. Instead, she found herself saying, “Come lie down. I’ll give you a massage.”
“Aren’t you a sweetheart?” he mocked, yet he went to the bed, lying on his stomach with his arms folded under his cheek.
Straddling his backside, she started to rub his tense shoulders, causing him to sigh in relief. His skin was smooth, but the muscles beneath were firm, taut—a body honed by years and years of intense physical exercise.
He moaned, his features morphing into pleasure. “Oh, fuuuuck , yeah.”
Ava chuckled. “Didn’t you stretch with Tate after the race?”
“I did, but that dude has aggressive hands. Yours are gentle and soft and delicate.” He peered at her, wiggling his brows. “Do you want to become my physiotherapist? We’ll have so much fun, and you’ll get to touch some parts Tate can’t come close to.”
Ava pinched his bum, causing him to squirm and laugh. “You’re insufferable. I’m very happy being your PR officer.”
“Ha! So you’re finally admitting you’re having the time of your life working with me.”
“That’s not what I said.” She rubbed a particular knot that made him sigh in relief again. “Feels good?”
“Yeah,” he breathed.“Don’t stop.”
He was humming to Chris Stapleton’s Tennessee Whiskey , eyes closed, a soft smile plastered on his lips. Ava was starting to get lost in him, observing that serene expression etched on his face, her hands running over his bronze skin like she couldn’t get enough of him.
She rubbed a tense spot between his shoulder blades where a small dragon tattoo was inked. She traced its contours, watching with awe the details and complexity of the drawing.
“A dragon?”
“Yeah,” Rowan answered. “I loved Eragon as a kid. And Mum always referred to me as a dragon.”
“Why?”
“She’s always said I’m very protective of what I love and what’s mine. She also says that I can easily burn my surroundings when I’m angry.”
She hummed. “I think it’s the creature that represents you best.”
“You do?”
She smiled, running her finger down his spine, feeling chills rise beneath her touch. “Because you’re confident, charismatic. But you’re also naturally gifted with that talent for racing. And you do everything with the intention of doing your best.”
She felt Rowan’s torso rise and fall beneath her hands. The steady thump of his heartbeat.
She changed subject to forget about the tingles burning her cheeks. “Tate came by to borrow another book before you left for the club.”
Rowan’s lips twitched. “I love that you’re bonding over books.”
“Did you tell him about us?”
“No, but he’s most definitely heard us tonight. Again.”
Ava’s face flushed further. “I’m embarrassed.”
A chuckle rumbled inside his throat. “Don’t be. I trust him with my life, but I won’t tell him anything unless you’re okay with it.”
“He’s your best friend. What is he going to say if he ever finds out?”
Rowan frowned slightly before opening his eyes. Then, he rolled over, keeping Ava sat on his lap. He braced a hand behind his head, causing her to look at his bulging bicep.
“He’s going to call me stupid, but he’s going to be happy for me. I haven’t been seeing anyone for the past year and a half or so, so I think he’s going to be happy to know I’ve finally broken my rules.”
“How come you haven’t been hooking up or seeing anyone?”
He shrugged, his free hand coming to rest on her thigh, caressing her warm skin. “I don’t know. One-night stands and girls wanting me just for fame and money became boring. Sure, getting off is fun, but I think I’ve reached a point in my life where I think that, maybe, I deserve something more.”
“You do deserve more,” she whispered, running her hands over his hard abdomen until they rested on his chest. She heard Rowan inhale sharply, the rhythm of his heartbeat unsteady and wild beneath her palms. “I hope you find your special someone soon.”
Their gazes locked, and time stood still. “I hope so, too.”
With the tip of her forefinger, Ava started tracing the butterfly tattoo on his bicep—a featherlight caress as though she was drawing over those intriguing designs. She observed goosebumps appear in the wake of her touch, Rowan’s breath catching when she continued to draw over the rest of the ink adorning his body.
He was magnificent. She wondered if he was aware of it. Wondered if he knew she’d worship him—body and soul—the way he’d been doing with her.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“For what?”
“For not trying to fix me like I’m some lost cause, but for seeing me. For being patient, supportive, and caring. I truly don’t deserve you.”
Ava had to blink multiple times. She wasn’t sure if it was fatigue or his earnest confession that made her eyes burn.
She didn’t trust her voice at that exact moment.
She couldn’t feel something more than lust for Rowan.
She just couldn’t cross that line.
“You don’t have to thank me.”
He applied pressure on her thigh—another silent act of gratitude. “Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you’re not comfortable.”
Ava had found herself enjoying opening up to Rowan. It was so easy to talk to him. “Anything.”
“How come you struggle with self-confidence?” He frowned, as if doubtful about the way his question had been voiced. Ava supposed he was referring to more intimate moments, when they were in the bedroom alone. Because he’d seen her wear more revealing clothes than others—at the pub a few weeks ago, at the pool a few nights ago.
She ignored the burning feeling in the back of her throat. “I care too much about what people think. I try not to let it get to my head, I try to wear clothes that make me feel sexy and pretty, but when I’m with you… I fear you won’t like me for who I am. I’m terrified that you’ll compare me to—”
“Avery,” he breathed out. His thumb grazed her skin lightly. “When I’m with you, all I think about is you. I think you’re insanely sexy, and I’m sorry that I made you feel this way. What can I do to make you understand you’re the only woman I have eyes for?”
“It’s not because of you. I think… I think it’s a fear I need to overcome on my own. I compare myself to others too often. I undermine myself too easily. But I’m learning to become a better version of myself. I’m getting there.”
Colour bloomed on Rowan’s cheeks. “Your way of thinking is just as sexy as your body. You’re smart. Fierce. You’re beautiful, Avery. Don’t let anyone make you feel less than that.”
As she blushed furiously, she debated hiding behind her hands, but all she did was nod, giving her gratitude with a timid smile. “What do these numbers represent?” she asked then, pointing to a date in the crook of his elbow.
He slipped his fingers under the hem of her shirt. There was nothing sexual about that act, but something bizarrely and innately intimate as he touched her hip.
“The year Mum was born.” It was evident that, despite everything he went through as a child, his mother was his entire world and beyond.
“And this one?” She traced a flower on his rib—one that had caught her attention months ago.
“It’s a Chrysanthemum. Nora’s birth flower.”
Rowan loved his family so strongly. It was odd how a man who adored his loved ones so deeply had concluded he could never be loved in return.
Ava smiled down at him. His features softened even more, sleepy eyes staring back at her. “Is she a November baby?”
“Yes. You too?”
She nodded in response.
She’d point to a few patterns, and he explained each of their meanings. He showed her a smiley on his thigh—one Tate had tattooed on him when they were eighteen—and she laughed. Not once did he retreat his hand from her hip, as if he needed that physical contact to feel alive.
And when she finally grazed the spot on his pectoral, he stilled.
“There’s a blank space here,” she noted. “Right above your heart.”
She watched Rowan’s throat work as he swallowed. “I’m saving this spot for the most special thing to have entered my life.”
“Whatever it is, it’ll be a privilege to be placed over Rowan Emerson’s black heart.”
“You’re a brat.”
“And you’re an absolute prick,” she fired back.
He looped his arms around her waist and flipped her on the mattress before pulling the covers over both of them.
Ava’s body went rigid the moment he wrapped his arms around her body, pulling her as close as he could. “What are you doing?”
“I’m exhausted. Going to sleep.”
“Okay,” she breathed out, somehow affected by his nonchalance. She tried to pull away, but he didn’t let her. Wouldn’t loosen his hold. “I’ll go.”
His breath fanned across her temple. Being here with him felt incredibly good—wrapped in a cosmos of unfathomable serenity where reality couldn’t break them apart. “I want you to stay.”
“Rowan,” she warned in a whisper.
“I’m so used to people leaving me,” he mumbled, causing her heart to crack and leave all the shattered fragments to turn into dust inside her chest. “Don’t be someone who lets me go, too.”
“Why do you have to make things so complicated?” She sighed, burying her face in the crook of his neck. It was difficult to understand how fitting they were. How safe she felt in his arms.
“Please. It’s late. I don’t want you to walk back to your room alone.”
“Is this your way of saying you care about me?”
His voice was quiet, tired. His hold tightened even more. “You know I do. I care about you so fucking much, Avery. I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it.”
Before she could say anything, his breaths became heavier, steadier, and she understood he had fallen asleep.
She sighed, tempted to linger in the moment. She wanted to bask in his warmth, wanted to fall into a deep slumber whilst hanging onto him.
But she couldn’t. It was too risky. His room was on the same floor as most of his mechanics, Thiago, and his team principal.
She waited a few minutes, ensuring he was sound asleep. And when he started snoring softly, she carefully got out of his embrace.
He didn’t wake up, only shifting to make himself more comfortable.
“I’m not abandoning you; I promise. I’m just trying to protect you because I would never forgive myself if they took away the only thing you love.” Ava kissed the crown of his head. “Good night, lover boy.”