17
Notes:
Sorry this chapter is late. There was a hurricane. And then another one. #FloridaLife
Rowan
Saying goodbye to Milo feels worse than sneaking away from Tucker’s house ever did.
The sharp pain in my chest only deepens when he carries Iggy up the stairs for me, giving him a quick pet on the top of his head while telling him not to eat too many of those “disgusting” black soldier fly larvae.
It gets worse when Milo checks around my little apartment to make sure the place is empty, and for a hopeful moment I wonder if he’s stalling.
The worst part? When he hooks an arm around the back of my neck and pulls me in for a kiss, before whispering “It’s too bad our timing is terrible” and backing out the door. I’m still standing there, dazed, with my fingers pressed to my bottom lip when it clicks shut.
“What the fuck?” Was it really only a few days ago that I was last here? It feels like years.
The emptiness of my place, which pleased me so much when I first moved in, suddenly presses in on me from all sides. When I moved here, I was so happy to have something that was just for me, no matter how cheap. Now the silence echoes so loudly.
Not sure I belong here anymore. Not sure I belong anywhere.
I feed Iggy and let him out of his tank to stretch his legs. He’s happily climbing the cheap little cat tree I got him when I go into my bathroom to put my toothbrush where it belongs. All it takes is a quarter turn toward the shower, and I realize I’ve made a mistake.
The memory hits me so fast it almost knocks me over.
That’s what whores do, isn’t it?
Anyone else in the world called me a whore, I’d hit them. But I liked it with Milo. It felt almost like an endearment.
The sound of running water rings in my head. The feel of his arms around my body. His wet skin on mine. His growl in my ear. The slick slide of his hand on my cock.
Where do you want my cum, baby?
I don’t think I’m being dramatic when I say Milo has ruined me for other men. When I first met Tucker, I was so in awe of this handsome, successful older man who wanted me. Who said, at first anyway, that he couldn’t keep his hands off me.
The sex was good. Fine.
Then there was Milo. He woke something up in me.
I try to shake the memory away. My hands cover my ears, willing away the desire for something that was never meant to last.
It didn’t make sense to ask Milo to stay. For the billionth time, I remind myself that he’s a hit man. Settling down isn’t something he’s going to do. Besides, Belle Argo was only ever meant to be a temporary stop for me. I really do need to go home. See my mom. Apologize.
“Goddammit. Dammit, Rowan. You should’ve at least told him.” My reflection in the bathroom mirror looks equally angry and devastated.
It’s too late now. Milo’s gone. We didn’t even exchange phone numbers. Of course he didn’t stay. Of course not.
But I still wish he’d wanted to.
My heart jumps when I hear the knock at the door. My long legs eat up the distance between the bathroom and the front door in a few brief steps. It’s only been a few minutes. It’s got to be him.
When I swing the door open, I’m stunned to see the person on the other side, hand raised to knock again. Not Milo.
No, this is a distinguished man with salt-and-pepper hair, a magnetic smile, and a custom-tailored suit. I know that because I once knew the inside of his closet better than my own.
“Tucker. What are you doing here?”
The smile on his face is the same one that used to make my heart beat faster. Right now? I’m full of dread. My already slim chance of catching Milo before he’s gone is getting slimmer by the second.
Tucker cranes his neck and glances around, taking in the view from the door of my tiny apartment.
His second home on the island was over ten thousand square feet, so I can only imagine what he’s seeing in my tiny, sparsely furnished, one-bedroom place.
Tucker’s smile is exactly like I remember. “I hoped we could talk. You left so suddenly. I’ve been looking for you for months.” His brow furrows. “I’ve been so worried.”
“I’m fine.” I look to either side of him. Can I squeeze past without him thinking I’m going in for a hug or something? “Look, you’re right that it would be good to talk but, uh, I kind of was on my way somewhere. Can it wait?”
“I’m afraid it can’t. I’m flying out later today.” He winces, looking pained. Except I know that’s a thing he does. He did it all the time when he was about to deny me something, acting as if it hurt him so terribly to have to leave when I wanted him to stay. He only did it so I wouldn’t complain.
“Then maybe it’s better if you call me. I really have to go.”
I move to push past, but Tucker’s arm comes up to grip the doorframe. I’m not a teenager anymore. Even though he always took good care of himself, I’m definitely stronger than him now.
“I’m only asking for a few minutes. Can I please come in?” Even as he asks he’s already inviting himself inside.
I try to stifle a sigh. Shoving past the man I spent four years with to get to the man who fucked me into a coma early this morning seems a little wrong. And he’s right—I left without saying goodbye. I guess I owe him that much?
“A few minutes. Fine.” I glance past him to the stairs one last time, but there’s nobody there. Only a sideways tricycle on the landing that belongs to the two little girls next door.
My heart sinks as I close the door. When I scoop up Iggy to return him to his tank, Tucker makes a face.
“Still have that ugly thing, I see.”
Iggy drapes himself across my arm, blinking so cutely I don’t know how anybody could call him ugly. “You gave him to me.”
“Absolutely not.” Tucker shakes his head. “Jonas gave it to you and said he was from me. You know I don’t like animals.”
Wait. “Iggy’s a gift from your assistant?”
A familiar dramatic sigh gusts out of him. “He said you’d complained of being lonely, and he thought a pet was a good idea. As my allergies prohibit anything with fur, he decided on that thing.”
“Iggy’s not a thing. He’s my best friend.”
“Of course, sweet boy. I’m sorry.” Tucker’s patient look isn’t as endearing as it used to be.
In fact, there’s anger simmering in my bloodstream that’s never been there before.
How dare he barge into my place and insult me?
And Iggy. Milo put in the effort to find Iggy the exact food he needed even though the fly larvae grossed him out, and Milo gently stroked Iggy’s head as if he actually cared about saying goodbye to him.
Milo would never call Iggy a thing. In fact, when Jalen said—
Oh. Wait. Jalen and Milo are old friends. He’ll know how to reach him.
Hope buoys my heavy heart. Maybe I can get Milo’s number from Jalen. At least ask him to pass on a message. He’d do it, I think.
Quickly, I pull my phone out to text Jalen.
Rowan: Can you please call me? I need to talk to you.
After a moment of deliberation I add It’s important.
Ridiculous or not, I need to at least tell Milo how I feel. If he rejects me after that, I can legitimately say I tried. With Tucker I never tried, I just went along.
Tucker clears his throat, his raised eyebrows telling me he doesn’t appreciate me being on my phone in the middle of our conversation. Not that I asked him to be here, but old habits and everything. I mumble an apology and shove the phone into my pocket.
I turn to fully face Tucker. “What did you want to say to me?” The impatience in my words is hard to mask. Now that I have a plan B, I’m eager to get things moving.
He sits on my sofa, gesturing for me to do the same. With more reluctance than I should probably fee, I return Iggy to his tank and comply.
I make the mistake of picking the spot where the spring pokes out, but I refuse to move closer to Tucker to keep it from digging into my ass. I don’t want to give him the wrong idea.
“I’m sorry. Whatever I did to make you leave so suddenly, I deeply apologize. I’d like a chance to make things right.” He takes hold of my hand.
Was his skin always so dry?
The urge to pull away is swift and shocking. A tremor goes through my arm, and it’s only the manners my mother raised me with that keep me from yanking myself back like he’s a hot stove.
“There’s nothing to apologize for. It was for the best. There are things I want to do. Go to college. Your need to keep me a secret dictated every bit of our relationship, and it wasn’t working anymore. For you or me.”
All that’s true. It’s also true that if Jonas hadn’t warned me I was wearing out my welcome with Tucker, I might have stayed longer. I’m not throwing Jonas under the bus though, especially knowing he was the one who got me Iggy. Jonas was always kind to me. And it really was for the best.
Tucker squeezes my hand tighter. “You said you understood why I couldn’t—”
“Yeah. Your wife and your kids, but you always said someday you were going to tell them the truth. Was it really fair to keep asking me to wait for a someday that would never happen?”
Wow. Until this moment, I hadn’t realized how fucking pissed off I was about everything. Saying it out loud feels good.
“You’re right.” Tucker sighs. “You’re so right, sweet boy.”
Jesus Christ, stop calling me that.
“Yeah. So.” Finally, I pull my hand away. I can’t take the feel of his skin on mine anymore. “Thanks for coming and thanks for the apology. I hope you didn’t waste a trip, but I really think it’s best if we don’t see each other again.”
“Oh, it’s okay. I had business while I was here. Some meetings with campaign donors.” His grin widens. “I’ve decided run for public office.”
“Wow. Congrats. I hope it goes well.” I don’t give a shit, but I’m glad he’ll be too busy to worry about me. That might explain why it took him months to even bother tracking me down. Too busy kissing the asses of other rich people or however all that works.
I can’t deny that my heart sinks upon hearing he didn’t actually come here just to talk to me. He came here for business, and while he was here, he tracked me down. It hurts, but it’s reassuring. Tucker hasn’t changed. But I have.
A thought occurs to me. “I sold some of the stuff you got me. I’m sorry about that. If you want the money back, I can send it to you as soon as I have it.”
The sadness in his smile pricks at my guilt. “No, sweet boy. Those were gifts.”
“Oh. All right.” I clear my throat, then I push to my feet. “Thank you. I think you should go now, though.”
He nods, standing more slowly. “Of course. I understand. Thank you for hearing me out.”
He starts for the door, sticking his hands in his pockets in a way that’s probably supposed to look casual, but I can see the tension in his arms and shoulders.
He was never good at hiding his displeasure with me.
The difference now is I will not run around trying to make him happy again. It’s not my job anymore.
I’m right behind him, ready to usher him out the door and lock it behind him, when he spins. “Could I have a hug before I go? Hardly feels like a proper goodbye without one.”
It’s difficult to resist rolling my eyes. “Sure. Fine.”
I put my arms out, holding my breath as he steps into me. His arms come around and I’m already wondering how many seconds I need to stand here before I can pull away. After a few seconds, I’m forced to breathe, Tucker’s overly spicy cologne assaulting my nostrils.
Milo’s scent was subtle. Clean. A little like apples. And I could only really smell it when I pressed my nose to his skin.
When I can’t take it anymore I begin to pull back. But Tucker’s touch lingers. His arms tighten.
Then there’s a pinch and a burning sensation at the back of my neck. Stepping back, I slap at the spot, confused when my finger comes away with a spot of blood.
“Rowan, what’s wrong?” Tucker looks worried. And sort of blurry. He takes hold of my arm my arm. “Maybe you should sit on the sofa. You don’t look well.”
I don’t want to sit down. I want you to leave so I can find Milo.
But Tucker’s grip is surprisingly strong. Everything wobbles a little, forcing me to squeeze my eyes shut.
Tucker’s coming closer. Too close. His arms wrap around me, and that fucking cologne makes me gag. “Rowan?”
Everything goes dark.