Chapter Twenty-Nine #3
“Hello! It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.” That’s a lie, and by their expressions, I can tell that they know it.
“Yes, nice to meet you, Elijah,” his mother says. “I’m Teresa, and this is Harold.”
Harold reaches forward and shakes my hand, and his tight grip does nothing to soothe my nerves.
“Where is Ramon?” Rowan asks.
“Right here,” A soft, deep voice sounds, and from behind Harold pokes out a head.
Light brown hair and matching brown eyes, this boy looks nothing like Rowan. He looks younger and softer.
A slow, bright smile spreads out over his thin lips as he looks over his brother, and for some reason, it makes me incredibly happy.
“Good to see you, big bro. You’re jacked now.”
When I turn to look at him, all of Rowan’s anxiety seems to have faded. He’s grinning, green eyes twinkling as he takes in the sight of Ramon.
“Can’t believe the Army didn’t put more meat on your bones,” Rowan jokes.
“Already picking fights, eh?” Ramon shoots back playfully.
“Shall we sit?” Teresa asks, and I find that she’s smiling slightly now as well.
Rowan’s parents sit on the other side of Rowan, and his brother plops down in the chair next to my dad.
“Um, this is my family, Mr. and Mrs. Alexander,” I say, introducing each one of my family members one by one.
Everyone says their pleasantries, and it’s not long before a loud chatter is spread over the table as several different conversations are pursued at once.
It’s obvious who is related to whom; my family dominates every conversation, and Rowan’s consistently looks to be overwhelmed. Other than Ramon, who seems to have taken quite a liking to Jeff.
“Jeff, if you eat a whole spoonful of this hot sauce, I’ll give you five dollars,” Ramon bargains, smirking from down the table.
“Ramon!” Teresa glares.
“You’re on, baby bro!” Jeff cackles, grabbing his silverware.
A minute later, Mom is chasing down Kandi to request a cup of water, and Ramon is coughing up five dollars.
“This is going well,” I mutter to Rowan, who laughs quietly.
“Appears that way.” I can feel it when he turns his gaze onto me, so I turn to meet his eyes. “I love you,” he whispers, so quietly that no one else picks it up.
I flush, lifting a hand to hide my smile.
“Whatever,” I mumble into my skin, and he just grins harder.
Dinner continues to go very well.
Rowan’s parents aren’t very sociable—an inheritable trait, I guess—but they get along well enough with everyone else. And it's interesting to see Rowan interact with his brother. I’m beginning to wonder what it was he was so nervous about.
Eventually, the Coke gets to me.
“Excuse me, bathroom break,” I tell the table.
I use the trip as an excuse to analyze what has transpired so far.
I think Harold and Teresa like me. They ask questions about the newspaper and nod approvingly when I mention my education or my long-term goals in journalism.
Mom is absolutely obsessed with Rowan; she is convinced he’s the third most beautiful man she’s ever seen—outside of Dad and me, of course.
Jeff and Kyle were greatly offended by this.
Ramon seems to have made friends with my brothers-in-law, even going so far as to exchange numbers. And Carrie and Jess spent about ten minutes grilling Rowan, who only impressed them more and more with each passing second.
All that to say, everything is going smoothly. Almost too perfectly, if you ask me.
I keep waiting for the awkward tension or the family bickering to start.
But everything is so calm that it’s starting to freak me out.
Maybe I’m just conditioned to believe that things are meant to fall apart; or maybe I’m just terrified that they will, because I want to keep Rowan more than I want anything else in this life.
As I’m leaving the bathroom, a hand catches my arm.
“Hey.” It’s Bennett. How long he was standing outside the men’s room, I’m not sure.
“Hey,” I say awkwardly, looking around to find us completely alone. “What’s up?”
“I just… can I ask you something?”
I think I can sense it: the tension, the beginning of things falling apart.
“Ah, sure?” I respond awkwardly.
Bennett clears his throat, running a hand through his blond hair. His royal blue eyes are staring down at me, and I can see in them that, for some reason, he feels betrayed.
“Why are you dating him?”
“S-sorry?” I’m so thrown off by the question that I forget to be irritated by his butting into my business after months of leaving me in peace.
“I mean, the guy stalked you. You know that, right? I know you confronted him about it; you even went on a date with me afterward. So what… what happened? Was I not enough for you?” Bennett's voice is a mixture of anger and hurt, a cocktail my irritation won't let me stomach.
Oh, Jesus Christ.
“Bennett,” I sigh. “This really isn’t any of your business. I chose Rowan, you can see that. So why are you still hung up on this?”
“Because!” he insists. “I really thought you liked me, and it hurt my feelings that you ran away from our date and went to him.”
“I ran away from our date because I was having a panic attack, not because I wanted to get laid,” I deadpan. “You pushed my boundaries after I made them clear.”
“I apologized for that.”
“And I forgave you.”
We stare at each other for a moment, and eventually Bennett turns his kicked puppy eyes onto the floor in defeat.
“Why him? Why not me?” he asks.
That’s the question, isn’t it? Why Rowan? I asked myself this question a million times from the moment I met him until I decided I believed his fate theory.
And it’s simple. It’s so fucking simple that I cannot believe it took me so long to see.
“Because, Bennett,” I start, and I give him the softest smile I can manage. “It’s always been him. Long before you and I met, it was already in motion. This was never a fair fight. And I’m sorry about that.”
“That… I don’t understand.”
“That’s okay, you don’t have to.”
“But—” His voice trails off, his eyes snapping up and over my head before they darken. “Okay. Have a good day, Elijah.”
Then he turns and walks away, and I release a long breath.
I do feel bad for him—Bennett always thought he was doing the right thing. And aside from forcing me on that tower ride, he was a good guy.
“Little angel,” a deep, familiar timbre calls out to me.
I shiver against the sound, my entire body lighting up in awareness.
“I was wondering why he suddenly ran away,” I say, turning to face Rowan, where he stands a few steps behind me.
He’s smiling widely, his green eyes lit up the way they normally are when I’m praising him or lying under him naked.
“What’s that smile for?” I ask.
“It’s always been him,” he repeats my words from just moments ago, and I feel my skin flush red.
“Eavesdrop much?”
Rowan laughs. “Maybe.” He steps forward, wrapping his arms around my waist to pull me against him. “And now I’m insanely horny. Should I fuck you in the bathroom?”
I smack his chest, glaring at him. “You’re an animal, Rowan. How is everyone?”
“They’re fine. Getting along very well, actually,” he assures me.
I hum, tracing my fingers over his pecs as he holds me. “And how do you feel? You look a lot less stressed now.”
“Yeah, well, I was nervous to see Ramon. We’ve barely spoken in years, and I really did miss him. I’ve never had many people in life, so I was scared it’d be weird now,” he admits.
“He seems to be excited to see you, though.”
Rowan hugs me tighter, kissing gently on my jaw. “Pretty cool, isn’t it?”
“Mhm.” I hum again.
“Thank you for today, Eli. Seriously.”
“No need to thank me,” I say, tilting my head to accept more of his kisses. “I’m just happy everything is going so well. Now let’s get back.”
“Aw,” Rowan whines, pressing in closer to me. “Fine. But after dinner, we’re going back to your place, and I’m totally going—”
“Okay! Whatever you’re about to say, okay.”
Rowan’s laughter follows us all the way back to our table.
I run a towel over my curls, blindly finding my way back to my bedroom, where Rowan is lying naked on my bed.
My clearly spent dick twitches, and I sigh in annoyance at how easily my body perks at the sight of him. I swear, I’m never going to sleep a full eight hours again if my lower region or Rowan himself has anything to say about it.
“Ready for bed?” I ask.
Rowan lifts his head to look at me, his eyes tracing the lines of my body as if he wasn’t towering over me for an hour just twenty minutes ago.
“Yeah,” he says, scooting over to make room for me.
I flop down onto the bed, relaxing under his touch as Rowan’s fingers brush over my stomach.
The light of the moon filters in through the curtains, and I close my eyes, taking a moment to relish in the life I’m now living.
Peace.
“Hey.” Rowan interrupts my thoughts, and his voice holds warmth and a bit of nerves.
“Hm?”
“If Bennett comes up to you again, you can always come and get me, you know that, right?” he asks.
“What?” My eyes shoot open, and Rowan is propped up on his elbow, peering down at me.
“I have no issues handling confrontation, and I’m your protector. I could have very easily sent him away.”
The way he says it implies I do have an issue with confrontation, which I absolutely do not.
And this circles me back to the one and only problem that still lingers between us: Rowan still sees me as the perfect reincarnation of Benjamin.
At this point, I do believe him, and in fate, but I’m not Benjamin. Not anymore. I can protect myself; I can handle confronting a waiter.
“I was fine, I can handle Bennett,” I insist.
“I know you can, baby. I’m not saying that. But I’m here to help you, and I just want you to remember that.”
There’s an irrational anger building inside of me. One that I’ve felt ticking higher and higher since the first moment he intervened on my behalf. It’s an unfair, cruel anger—considering I’ve fed into his fantasy this entire time.
I want to keep him. I want Rowan to stay with me for the rest of my life; I simply cannot imagine a future without him.