Chapter 22 #2
And then he’s turning me around and kissing me hard before tossing me over his shoulder with a growl so hot and possessive, I’m half ready to come again just from the sound.
I look up with a laugh as he spins around.
And that’s when I see the notebook he was writing in when I found him.
And the single word that takes up three precious lines…
ESCAPE
Jason
“Okay, what are you talking about with me being wrong?” Rowan laughs a few hours later, legs outstretched as I add a log to the fire before joining her on the comforter from our bed we laid out on the floor.
“What you were saying about the touchy stuff. How we had more physical contact making breakfast than in all the months we lived in the same house back in high school.”
She gives me a saucy look from beneath her lashes. “Obviously, the qualifier about during the making of breakfast is key.”
I huff a laugh, mentally revisiting the dirty fantasies come to life following our plates hitting the counter. “Obviously.”
She sits straighter, her expression sobering. “You’re talking about when Mom and Ed went to the city.”
Maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up. It’s one of those memories I’ve been doing battle with for about as long as it’s existed.
Even now I can remember that moment when I was sitting in my room. “I was studying.”
She blinks, and I don’t know. It’s like some kind of tidal wave of emotion rolls over her.
She wets her lips and… Eye contact. “Your giant feet were up on your desk while you were reviewing notes for some test.”
“History.” And yeah, I was trying to.
What I was actually doing was thinking about the girl in the bedroom down the hall. And how I had to stop thinking about her so much.
That whatever connection I’d thought was between us just hadn’t been, and that I needed to stop looking for something that wasn’t there.
“Mom and Ed had gone to the city for the weekend. It was early. Friday night. And I was surprised you weren’t out with friends.”
“Dad told me to look out for you while they were gone.” I’d fully expected her to disappear into her room the minute they left and not see her again until they were back. “I nearly fell out of my chair when you showed up at my door.”
She was dressed in jeans, fuzzy socks, and a sweatshirt that nearly swallowed her whole. So fucking pretty. So nervous it wrecked me.
She doesn’t look that way now. “I asked if you wanted to watch a movie.”
I’d played it as cool as I could, but, “I dropped my notes on the floor and tripped standing up.”
“You were such a good skater. The way you moved on the ice was effortless. But dry land?”
There’s a glint in her eyes and, hell, I know this isn’t forever. It’s a day or two. A week at most, but I could get used to this woman’s teasing. To all of it. “Not so much, huh?”
I was so focused on not being too eager, too attentive, that I didn’t notice how nervous she was.
But once I got past the initial shock, those little jumps when the thunder crashed and the way she kept worrying her hands were unmistakable.
“You were scared of the storm. It’s the reason you asked me to hang out. ”
After all the months of avoiding so much as looking at me.
She nods.
“So I did what any guy without a clue about how to handle a pretty girl’s distress would do at that age… I tried to distract you.” Desperately.
That soft laugh. Christ.
“You talked through the movie.” She rolls her eyes with an amused sigh. “Made jokes about being a terrible student. Bad at sports.”
“It worked. You were distracted.”
“You quizzed me on my favorite pizza toppings.”
“Pepperoni?”
She looks a little surprised, though if she’d been able to get a glimpse inside my head even once, she wouldn’t be.
“My favorite music.” The tentative way she says it, I’m not sure if she’s hoping I will remember or won’t.
This is an escape, I remind myself as I have since our agreement was struck.
Still, I’m not throwing this. “Swift. Taylor.”
I’ll take the smile as a win.
She lifts a brow. “Which guys I was into at school.”
“None, thank you, baby Jesus.”
She laughs now like she did back then. Like the girl from that rainy night after the game, the one who talked with me like it was the easiest thing in the world. The one who for the first weeks I knew her, would meet my eyes, if only for a second, before looking away with that gorgeous shy smile.
That night we laughed and talked about all the shit that seemed so critical to our high school selves.
We joked around. Teased in that way that made me want to pull her into my arms and— And then we were sharing thoughts and opinions, funny stories and deep truths.
We ate our pepperoni pizza and microwaved popcorn and played Scrabble for Skittles.
I reach for her hand across the quilt and let our fingers tangle, let my leg shift so it’s pressed against the length of hers. “I told you about how some of the guys from my team and I volunteered at a local self-defense workshop.”
And when she admitted that she’d never taken a self-defense class, I was sick at the thought of her not being able to protect herself if she needed to.
She shifts closer, her shoulder bumping mine then lingering there in an easy press as the burning logs lick and pop at our feet.
“I asked you to show me some basic moves.”
It wasn’t supposed to turn into anything. I mean, yeah, I’d been half certain I was in love with her since the night we met. I didn’t hate standing that close to her, but that wasn’t what it was about.
I wanted her to be safe.
“So I showed you how to put the hurt on someone who didn’t know how to respect boundaries.” I huff a laugh into her hair, remembering how focused I’d been on the purity of my intentions.
“And I caught you with an elbow you weren’t expecting.”
“Definitely not the manliest oooph ever uttered.”
She winces, an echo of her face after it happened. “I felt so terrible!”
She spun around, apologies spilling from her lips as her fingers tentatively brushed the spot where she’d caught me.
“I know. But I took hits a hell of a lot harder on the ice, even back then.”
I told her so at the time, but she didn’t believe me. She looked so worried. And I couldn’t stand it.
So that’s when I put my hand over hers, pressed it into my side and held it there as I tipped her chin with the crook of my finger so she could see that I was fine.
That’s what I’d told myself. It was dumb. On some level, I knew what I was doing. Knew that no good could come of it.
But for those few heartbeats when it was just her and me, looking into each other’s eyes… it was worth it.
I thought so, anyway.
A log settles over the grate, and Rowan’s gaze flicks away. There’s a stitch between her brows that makes me wonder if she’s thinking about the rest.
I clear my throat, not wanting to give up the ease between us but knowing this conversation’s about ten years overdue. There are things I need to say to her. Things I might not have the chance to say again.
I open my mouth just as she says, “There’s something I need to talk to you about… and it’s… I should have done it before… but…”
She takes a nervous breath, and I squeeze her hand. “Hey, it’s okay. Let’s talk. It’s the perfect time.”
But then she’s pushing to her feet and offering me the hand I was holding the second before to help pull me up.
Funny, but I let her, not entirely sure why she wants us to relocate from the fire. Unless it feels too intimate, maybe.
“Come with me.”