Chapter Twenty-Three
Elijah
Sounds like a plan.
Ipush through the glass door of the diner, shaking the residual raindrops from my hair. The drizzle is light enough now that I’m not soaked, but I probably resemble a damp puppy. I should invest in an umbrella.
I spot Rowan in the back, sitting alone in a booth as he stares at his phone. I can’t tell from here if he’s waiting for my text or if he’s talking to someone else, but it doesn’t matter anyway.
After last night, I’m no longer concerned about outside influences on whatever it is that we’re doing.
I approach the booth, and Rowan looks up from his screen. He grins when he sees me, setting the device to the side to give me his full attention.
“Hey there, angel,” he greets, and my entire body warms at his words. Every time he says it, I want to be good. I want to prove him right.
I am an angel. I am soft and sweet.
“Hi.” I smile, dropping down on the seat across from him. “Have you ordered?”
“Of course not, I was waiting for you.”
I can feel myself blush, a common occurrence around this man, and I grab one of the menus just to have something to do with my hands.
“Oh, that’s good,” is all I say in response, and Rowan chuckles.
I spend so many evenings or lunches here that I definitely do not need a menu at this point, but my other option is staring directly at the hunk across from me, and hiding a boner in slacks is kind of impossible.
“You’re so much shyer now, Eli,” Rowan comments, and I groan. “What did I do to cause this? What’s making you so timid, hm?” He’s teasing me, and I find that completely unfair.
“You’re being mean,” I complain, and he only grins wider. “You just… make me nervous.”
“Do I?” Rowan leans over the table, and his fingertips find my sweater, right where it sits over the indentations of his teeth. The spot still aches, and I had to disinfect and bandage it this morning. He was right—it’ll scar. “I wonder why that is.”
He applies minimal pressure, but I hiss at the contact anyway. I’m reminded immediately of the way it felt when his teeth dug into me, when my blood soaked into his gums, and my skin split.
“Rowan,” I warn, and he backs away slowly.
“Hm?”
“Excuse me,” Bennett’s harsh voice cuts through the tension surrounding us, and I jump in my seat.
I had completely forgotten he worked here. And now, he’s watching Rowan with an expressionless face as he white-knuckles his notepad.
“Can I get your drink order?”
“Water, please,” Rowan says casually, not bothering to smile.
Bennett nods once and turns his gaze to me. It immediately softens, his lashes fluttering as he smiles down at me.
“And for you, Eli? A sweet tea or a Coke?” he asks.
If it wasn’t obvious that I have frequented here before, it definitely is now.
“A sweet tea would be great, thanks,” I respond, and he scribbles down my response as he grins.
“Sure thing, I’ll be back.”
It’s silent for a moment before Rowan speaks.
“You’re a regular, huh?”
I shrug. “I guess.”
“Seems like Bennett knows you pretty well,” he says, and I can sense the distaste in his tone, and when I look at his face, I can see the slight curl of his lips.
“Sweet, sweet angel. You taste so good. Tell me—has anyone else tasted you since you left me?”
“No, of course not.”
“Not even Bennett?”
“Not even Bennett.”
“Good boy, Elijah.”
I swallow thickly, doing my best to meet his questioning eyes. I haven’t done anything wrong—just because I once fantasized about being railed by him doesn’t mean I ever actually acted on it. And I didn’t lie; Bennett has not tasted me.
“He’s normally the person waiting on me,” I respond casually, and I realize after I say it that it’s the wrong answer.
Rowan’s expression grows colder. “Is he?”
“Rowan,” I say, and he watches me as he taps his fingers gently against the table. “He’s a waiter. That’s what they do. I’ve never even seen him outside of this diner.”
Slowly, Rowan begins to thaw. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head.
“Sorry. I’m just… wound up, I think.”
I can’t help the small smile that shapes my lips, or the sweet longing that fills my chest. Sometimes Rowan is such a child in certain ways, and I find that absolutely adorable.
“It’s okay. I think it’s kind of cute that you’re so jealous.”
“Jealous?!” Rowan raises a brow, his own face flushing at the accusation. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“Oh, I would,” I tease. “You’re practically glaring daggers at him. Though I’m unsure why he’s not too fond of you.”
Rowan says nothing, and I don’t force the subject as I think I might actually know his reason when push comes to shove. Bennett likes me, and Rowan is taking his chance away. Still, that doesn’t give him the right to be cold toward him.
“I guess it’s only fair that I get to be jealous too.” Rowan grins, and I glare back at him.
“But I don’t have someone at my house in my clothes.”
“Nope,” Rowan says, popping the p. “Only I am frequenting your house. Though I don’t believe I’ll fit into your tiny clothes.”
“Tiny?!” I shout.
Rowan chuckles again.
“Your drinks.” Bennett sets two cups on the table, water for Rowan and sweet tea for me. “Do you know what you want to order?” His eyes are situated on me again, and I can feel the tension between the three of us as if it’s a fourth person here to wine and dine.
I focus my attention on my date. “Yeah, do you, Row?”
“Yep. You go ahead,” he answers, and I turn to look at Bennett.
“Chicken salad and fries?” he asks, and I shake my head.
“Not tonight. It’s too cold. I think I’ll try your chili.”
Bennett makes an approving noise in the back of his throat. “Good choice. I’ll bring you some crackers too. Do you want cheese on top?”
“Sure, thanks.”
“Of course.” Bennett gives me another award-winning smile before he turns his attention to Rowan, and promptly says nothing as he stares blankly at my date. Why is he acting like such an ass?
“I’ll take your French onion soup,” Rowan says, his vibrant green eyes mercilessly cold as they narrow back on Bennett.
“Are you sure you don’t want to try what I recommended to you the other day? What I told you about when you were here with that woman?” Bennett says it so nonchalantly, so casually, that anyone could have missed the cruelty in it. But I see what he’s trying to do.
He’s trying to make it seem like Rowan was here on a date with someone else. Bennett is trying to drive a wedge between us.
“I just said—”
“Rowan’s a big soup guy, so I’m sure whatever you recommended before won’t live up to his love for French onion soup,” I interrupt, stopping Rowan before he is baited further.
Bennett stands rigid, nodding briskly as he writes our orders down.
“Of course. Let me put this in for you.” Then he turns and flees, and I watch him retreat with a narrowed gaze. He’s been such an asshole today.
I can feel Rowan’s eyes on me, so I turn my attention back to him and see that he’s grinning at me again.
“What?” I question cautiously, and he shrugs.
“Nothing. It’s cute whenever you come to my rescue.” I roll my eyes, taking a sip of my tea. Rowan clears his throat and speaks again. “About what he just said… Marissa and I came here for breakfast the other day before she left. It wasn’t… it wasn’t like that.”
I reach across the table and take his hand in mine before I consider what the action means or what those around us will think.
“I know, it’s okay. Really.”
The rest of our dinner goes well—Bennett keeps his distance, and Rowan makes no further moves to react to his antagonizing.
Not much later I’m watching Rowan pay the bill, and we’re walking out under the awning that protects us from the light drizzle.
The sun has set, and I shiver from under my coat.
“You didn’t need to pay. I asked you out, after all,” I tell Rowan.
“Are you cold?” he asks, completely ignoring my comment. He pulls off his jean jacket and lays it over my shoulders, leaving him in just his grey, long-sleeved Henley.
“Won’t you freeze to death? I already have a jacket.”
Rowan shakes his head. “That jacket is too thin, you’ll catch a cold. Where are we headed?”
Hiding my grin, I follow him to where our cars are parked on the street.
“I did some research while I was working, and I found out that the community center is having a bingo night tonight. We should go,” I suggest.
Rowan laughs at my suggestion, turning his head to look down at me where I now walk next to him. “Bingo? What are we, sixty?”
I shove him with my shoulder. “Bingo can be fun, don’t judge.”
“Alright,” Rowan says, nodding several times. “Then let’s go. I’m down to beat your ass.”
I scoff. “Bingo is all about luck—even if you do win, it’s not a great feat.”
“Spoken like a true sore loser.” Rowan smirks, and I find myself leaning into him slightly.
He smells of my shampoo, like coconut and a hint of sunscreen. But he also still carries that lingering smell of fresh-cut flowers and security.
I breathe him in deeply. Rowan, as if sensing my motives, drapes an arm over my shoulders and pulls me against him. His scent completely overwhelms me, and I shudder against his side.
“The community center is on Camelback Avenue, isn’t it?” Rowan asks, his fingertips grazing my bicep as he speaks, transferring warmth from his skin through the fabric I’m wearing and into mine.
“That’s what Google said,” I confirm, and he stops, angling his body toward mine as he drags me flush against his chest.
“Then I’ll see you there. Drive safe, okay?”
Rowan releases me and heads toward where his truck is waiting, and I watch him disappear into the night before I head toward my own car.
I swear, it’s as if he knows that just by touching, I’ll be set ablaze for the foreseeable future. That just his flesh is able to ignite something wild and hot inside of me.
The drive to the community center realistically takes ten minutes, but it feels like a lifetime. Knowing who is waiting for me and the promise of being in his company for an extended period of time is enough to quicken my heart rate and moisten my palms.