Chapter 36
Rowan
I had six tabs open, three different apps running, and no idea which one I was actually working on.
The cursor blinked at me from an email draft that I hadn't finished.
My cloud drive was mid-upload with footage from the front door camera, and my text history with Marcus sat open just off to the side.
I kept skipping around – back to the cloud folder, then to the most recent message from my solicitor, then to the file list from the camera app.
Nothing held my attention for more than a few minutes. Every time I thought I'd settled on a task, something else elbowed its way in.
Eli had airdropped some files to me that morning. Mostly voicemails and texts that he never told me about. I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that Marcus had been trying to get to him, too. And Eli never told me.
Part of me was a little angry at him for that. Just for a second. But it disappeared just as fast. Because deep down, I knew I wouldn't have taken it well at the time. Eli knew that, too. He was protecting me until I was in the headspace to deal with this.
Now I was sorting through everything I could find, trying to gather enough to bury Marcus ten times over. I had to believe this would help and it would keep him out of my life for good.
I hit play on the next voicemail, and I froze. Not even at the words, really. Just at the tone. I dragged a hand over my face, stopped playing the file, and clicked over to a different folder. I couldn't listen to that right now.
Setting the laptop aside, I made my way over to my desk to find an old memory stick to store all of this so I’d have an extra copy of everything. After a minute or two of fishing around, I finally found one. Then my gaze landed on something else in the drawer, and I paused.
I'd forgotten about the folder.
It sat there in plain sight, unmarked and tucked on top of a stack of notebooks. I hadn't looked at it in months. Now, though, it occurred to me that I should probably get copies of the clinic results to my solicitor, too.
I pulled the folder out and flipped it open. The papers inside were a bit wrinkled from the way I handled them the last time. Back then, I'd barely been able to read them without shaking.
Now I was pissed off.
Marcus drugged me. Raped me. And he thought he could just walk away from it. He thought I wouldn't fight back, that I'd stay quiet and let him win. That might have been true a few months ago. But not today.
I dropped the folder onto the desk and sat down hard in the chair.
My fingers hovered over the top sheet, then curled into a loose fist when I realised I never told Eli what happened.
I meant to. But Marcus got here first and beat the hell out of me.
After that, I completely forgot about the conversation.
But now Marcus was in prison. The case was moving forward. Eli deserved the full truth.
Even so... I hesitated.
Eli would lose his mind when he found out. Not at me. Never at me. But I knew how protective he was. I'd seen what he was willing to do. If I told him about this, I wasn't sure what he'd do with that anger.
The sound of a key in the lock made me snap to attention. I threw the folder back into the drawer and shut it with a little more force than I meant to. The papers disappeared from sight just as the door opened.
Eli stepped inside a second later, juggling a canvas shopping bag and his keys. His coat was half-unzipped and his hair wind-tousled, face flushed from the cold. He seemed to be in a good mood.
I didn't want to wreck that. The folder could wait.
He dropped the bag on the counter, shrugged out of his coat, and glanced over at the mess that cluttered my laptop screen. "How's it going?"
"Slow," I admitted. "But I'm getting there."
He looked at the computer again, then stepped over to me without a word. He reached for my hands, wrapped his fingers around mine, and gently tugged until I was on my feet. Before I could ask him what he was doing, he pulled me in and kissed me.
His mouth moved against mine with a slow kind of confidence that made my head spin.
Then deeper. Hungrier. The heat of him soaked straight through my shirt, and I felt him everywhere.
His chest pressing against me, his fingers settling low on my back, the light scrape of his stubble against my cheek as he tilted the kiss to draw me in further.
I sank into it before I even realised I had. I could feel the faint rhythm of his pulse, taste a hint of coffee on his lips. His hand slid up to cup the back of my neck, thumb stroking once over the hinge of my jaw – and then he nipped lightly at my bottom lip.
The jolt that sent through me was instantaneous.
Heat lit up the base of my throat and made a beeline south.
My fingers bunched into the fabric of his shirt, and the noise that slipped out of me was entirely involuntary.
By the time he pulled back, my thoughts had scattered in ten different directions.
God. It wasn’t fair how fast he could undo me with a single kiss.
His fingers slipped into my hair, and I leaned into his touch without even thinking. "You don't have to do it all today," he said softly. "And if you want help, just ask."
I blinked at him, heat rushing up the back of my neck. My voice didn’t come out quite as steady as I wanted. “If you keep doing that, I'll never get anything done.”
He grinned, all smug affection and crooked charm. “That doesn't sound like a complaint.”
I didn’t even get a chance to reply before he leaned in and kissed me again. Quick this time, but still enough to leave my heart stumbling over itself.
Then he stepped away like he hadn’t just short-circuited every functioning part of my brain. He casually headed toward the kitchen with that self-satisfied little bounce in his step that made me want to kiss him again. Or maybe shove him into the counter and return the favour.
Cocky bastard.
I dropped back onto the sofa and tried to remember what I was doing before Eli turned my brain into mush.
I stuck the memory stick into the computer and started transferring some of the files, but I was running on autopilot.
My lip tingled from the bite, and my chest was still warm where he'd pressed against me. Concentration was a lost cause.
A few minutes passed mostly in silence, broken only by the quiet shuffle of Eli moving around in the kitchen to put things away. I heard the fridge door open and close, a cupboard bang gently shut. Then his footsteps crossed back into the room behind me.
"Oh, hey, just a heads-up," he said casually, "I've gotta head back into London tonight. One of my clients is having a meltdown and wants me in first thing in the morning."
My chest went tight before I could stop it.
Right... He lives in London.
I couldn't believe I forgot. He'd been here every day since things went sideways, but he still had a life in the city. A flat. Work. Clients.
Of course this wasn't permanent.
Granted, it was only an hour by train, but the distance suddenly felt like a lot more. I knew better than to panic over it. Eli had never given me a reason to think he'd vanish or that we'd go back to the way we were. Hell, that kiss just now proved otherwise.
But the thought still crept in. What if the distance started to wear on this? I'd gotten used to having him here, and now I'd have to unlearn it?
I did my best to shove all of that aside and gave the simplest answer I could manage. "Okay."
I didn't hear any movement behind me, so I turned my attention back to the laptop and transferred the next file, trying to pretend I wasn't bothered at all.
My focus zeroed in so hard on the computer that I didn't notice Eli had moved until the cushion beside me dipped under his weight. I flinched but didn't let myself react beyond that. I didn't look over, didn't speak. Just kept clicking through files to make it look like I was busy.
He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. After a moment of quiet, he asked, "What's going on in your head?"
I didn't look up. "Nothing. Just trying to finish this."
He let that hang there for a second before he spoke again. "Rowan."
"I'm fine."
Though he didn't push, I could feel him watching me. I clicked another folder and opened a video file. I wasn't really looking at it, but I needed something to stare at.
Then Eli reached out, gently closed the laptop, and nudged it out of the way.
The flash of irritation was sharp and immediate – but it didn't stick. It dissolved the second he dropped down to the floor in front of me. His hands braced against the sofa on either side of my legs, and his eyes locked on mine. I had no choice but to look at him.
"You've gone quiet," he said gently. "I know what that means. So talk to me."
I swallowed around the tight feeling in my throat. His eyes were clear, serious in a way that cut through every distraction. And it kind of rattled me.
Though I tried to answer him, the words didn't want to come out. I couldn't figure out how to say it without sounding clingy or insecure. But I'd learned the hard way how quickly something could be ripped away, and the idea of losing Eli to any degree terrified me.
My mind drifted to all the times in the past when I'd wondered if I could ever fit into his life.
London was his world, with its high energy, fast pace, and the circles of people he'd built his career around.
I was too quiet and reserved for that place.
It just wouldn't work. And Tunbridge Wells was too slow for someone like him.
I finally managed to say something, but my gaze drifted elsewhere. "What happens now?"
His brow furrowed. "Now as in...?"
"You've got a whole life in London."
"Okay. And?"
I hesitated. "You shouldn't have to put all that on hold because of me."
He exhaled softly, but there was no frustration in it. "Is that what you think I've been doing?"
I didn't answer.
He rested a hand on my knee. "You thought this was temporary. Right?"
I gave a half-hearted shrug as I stared at some random spot on the floor, trying to brace for what was coming.
Eli went quiet for a moment – and that only made my nerves worse. But then his hand moved. His fingers touched lightly under my chin and coaxed my gaze back to his. "I don't want to live in London anymore."
What?
He didn't look away, and he didn't let me look away, either. "I've been thinking about it for a while. I've been restless there for years. I just didn't know why." He leaned in to rest his forehead against mine and smiled. "Turns out this was where I wanted to be."
All I could do was stare as I tried to process what he was saying. I'd spent so long believing that London was Eli's home that I never thought he'd ever want to leave it. He'd said it himself outright that he'd lose his mind in a quiet place like this. Had that seriously changed?
"But... Your work," I stammered, my mind still racing to catch up. "Your gallery shows and your clients – "
"I can commute when I need to. I've already talked it over with my manager. Most of my shoots are on location, anyway. I don't need to be in the city full-time. I'd much rather be here. With you."
His voice carried a calm certainty, that soft confidence that had a way of silencing the doubts running around in my head. I'd convinced myself I'd always be on the outside looking in, and now here he was telling me that I was where he wanted to be.
That terrified me just as much as anything else.
"You're not holding me back, Ro," he continued. "I want this. I want you. You're the reason I came back here. The city doesn't mean anything without you in it."
I didn't know what to say to that. Every thought in my head tripped over itself before I could utter a word. So instead, I just reached for him. He moved in without hesitation, arms slipping around my waist to hold me firm and steady against him.
I held him tighter than I meant to. I buried my face in his shoulder and breathed him in. He didn't say a word. And he didn't need to. Because in that moment, he was choosing this. Choosing me.
And I refused to let go of the only person who ever made me feel like I belonged somewhere.