Chapter Fourteen MAE
Chapter Fourteen
MAE
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I muttered to myself.
Rowan had waited for me to explain what the hell I meant to tell him, and then I freaked and said I had to go. I hadn't even given him a chance to stop me, fumbling and dropping my keys before I could get in my car. He'd sent me a text, asking if we could talk, and I hadn’t replied yet.
I was in the bathtub at the house. Gram had a great bathtub—an old clawfoot tub, extra deep with the perfect angle to rest my head against the back. I felt so keyed up over telling him I needed to tell him something. I couldn't even relax. Now I was going to have to cancel dinner. Ugh.
After I toweled off and dressed in my most comfortable pajamas, I plunked down on the couch with a bowl of popcorn.
I turned on Schitt’s Creek because I needed something to lighten my mood.
I'd even been avoiding looking at my phone out of fear he would text me again.
I finally got up the nerve to look at the screen.
Rowan: So you kind of freaked out there. I don’t know what you need to tell me, but for God's sake, don't cancel dinner on me.
Before I could think better of it, I responded.
Me: It’s nothing you want to know, so can we forget I said I needed to tell you something.
I hit send, jabbing at my phone screen.
His reply was swift.
Rowan: Mae, I can’t forget that you said that. Just tell me. Can I call you?
Me: Not now. I don't want to talk about it. I am canceling dinner. You can't tell me I can't cancel.
Rowan: Can I please come over? I’d rather not try to have this convo over text.
Before I could reply, my phone rang in my hand. I stared at his number as it flashed, then reluctantly swiped my thumb across the screen.
“What?” I knew my tone sounded mulish, but I didn’t care. I was doing all I could to keep from panicking. Rowan didn’t need to know anything about that night.
“Can we rewind?”
“Sure. I have nothing to tell you.”
“Mae, please don’t do this. I know you’re not telling me something about why you stopped talking to me. You have to know it’s been driving me crazy. Whatever it is, just tell me.”
My heart raced, and I felt a little sick. My skin felt tingly but not in a good way. I was so relieved Rowan couldn't see me.
“Let's just have dinner,” he prompted.
“Okay, fine,” I muttered.
I was about to hang up when Rowan’s voice caught me like a hook. “You mean a lot to me, Mae.”
“Huh?”
“I don’t know what went wrong and why you stopped talking to me, but I was half in love with you in college. If it was your roommate hitting on me, just tell me so I know. I hate that I didn't have a chance to figure out what happened. All these years, I thought you kind of hated me.”
My heart twisted in my chest. “I didn’t hate you, Rowan,” I whispered.
“Okay, well, I just wanted you to know you mean a lot to me,” he said in his slow Southern drawl.
My belly was all fluttery, and I felt as if I were a stick of butter melting in the hot sun. This man was treacherous for my heart. I didn't let myself get vulnerable for a reason, and now it was happening with him in spite of all of my defenses.
Maybe it will be okay. Maybe if you tell Rowan the whole truth, it won’t blow up in your face.
My hopeful little heart whispered to me, and I wanted to ignore it.
But it was hard, so very hard, to resist Rowan and my feelings for him.
All this time, I’d thought if I could block out everything and everyone who reminded me of the worst night of my life, I could forget it.
Even though my therapist had gently and carefully tried to help me face the fact that I couldn’t just erase my own memory.
“So, dinner Saturday at that new gallery restaurant? Tell me what time I'm picking you up,” he prompted.
“Oh, so you're picking me up?”
The sound of his low chuckle sent shivers chasing over my skin. “I'd like to.”
Against all reason, I gave in. Dinner wouldn’t hurt me. “Okay. Five thirty. It gets dark early, so I don't like to be out late.”
“Five thirty, it is. Good night, Mae.”