Chapter 34
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
claire
The hoarse please Rowan adds to his request nearly does me in, and I nod eagerly, not even caring how desperate I’ve become.
I cup my palms around his jaw and kiss him so hard our teeth clink together.
His right hand entangles within my hair as his tongue slips into my mouth, accidentally yanking a few strands free from my braid as he urges me closer with another hand on my lower back.
And I don’t know how I’ve managed to resist him for this long, because kissing Rowan is even better than I remembered. I grasp desperately at his short hair, and then at his shirt, trying anything and everything I can to get closer to him.
Besides stretching that single kiss into a twenty-minute make-out session, we keep to our word, relishing in one another but never venturing beneath our clothes, despite how easy it would be with his scrubs and my practically indecent PJs.
He growls when we finally break apart, both of us breathing hard and struggling to keep ourselves from going in for more as he holds out his wrist.
“See … what you do … to me,” he barely gets out and gestures to the wonky line graph. But I admittedly can’t be bothered with anything else so long as his lips are still looking so irresistibly swollen.
“You were sort of asking for it,” I reply with a giggle, pleased with my work. Truthfully, I can’t remember kissing ever being this much fun, even when I was a teenager. Keeping my clothes on with Rowan is still infinitely hotter than actually having sex with anyone else.
I sigh when he nods and smiles at me, and it makes me feel like I’m floating. How is this all it takes from him to leave me in the same lazy, drunken state that I’d only have imagined was possible after a much more intimate act?
“Now do you believe me when I say I understand the difference between lust and love?” he muses, reaching up to push a strand of hair from my face.
The words are like a record scratch, popping my bubble and sending me plummeting back down to earth.
Even though he’s agreeing with the point I made earlier, I find myself shrinking in. Hearing another reminder that he’s only attracted to me against his better judgment hurts more than I expected, especially since I don’t have much more to offer him.
“Yeah,” I croak out, pushing off his chest to rise to my feet. “I guess you’re capable of more than I thought.”
He looks up at me with concern. “Did I … have I said something wrong?”
I shake my head and point to his watch. “I just realized it’s getting late. Your family’s expecting us before lunch tomorrow, and you probably need to shower.”
“Right,” he says softly. “Sorry for keeping you up.”
“It was fun while it lasted,” I return dryly.
“I can, um, get the dogs if you want to turn in now.” His eyelashes flutter, and I can see the mixture of regret and confusion in his expression.
“Thanks.”
He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Good night, Claire.”
“Good night. Sorry your evening turned out to be so … disappointing,” I mutter before ambling down the hallway to my bedroom.
I’d already been half-expecting to cry myself to sleep tonight, back when I was worried about Rowan meeting his actual soulmate, so I’m not surprised by the warm tears streaming down my face as I turn to shut the door behind me.
I’d also predicted our connection would end up holding him back and keeping him from finding something real with anyone else, even before it happened.
But the one thing I hadn’t anticipated was the bruised heart I’d be nursing after hearing him confirm there was only ever lust and physical attraction between us after all.
A sob bubbles up from my chest, and I cover my mouth to quiet it. Why am I like this? What is wrong with me? Why can’t I just admit how badly I want him?
Because I can’t have him, that’s why.
I growl in frustration and swipe at my cheeks, because I only have myself to blame.
I can’t keep playing this game with him, encouraging him one minute and pushing him away the next, then pulling him in deeper and deeper until he’s become an irreplaceable fixture in my life.
It’s not fair to either of us, not when I know there’s no future for us together.
A knock at the door startles me. “Claire?” Rowan calls out.
“Yeah?” I reply, trying to hide my sniffling.
“Are you sure everything’s okay?” he asks.
I clear my throat. “I’m fine, really. Just tired.”
The sound of shuffling and a soft thud emanate from the other side of the door. I turn and slide down to the floor, letting my head fall back with a thump of my own.
“I can tell when you’re lying to me, you know,” he says after a while.
My heart melts a little, and I can’t help but smile. “Okay. I’m not fine.”
“Wanna tell me why you’re so upset?”
“Not really.”
“Is it because I crossed a line when I asked you to participate in my demonstration?” he asks carefully.
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” He’s quiet for a second before adding, “I was looking for a loophole, and it was selfish of me.”
I scoff. “I’m just as much to blame for what happened tonight as you are. But yeah, I guess it could have messed with my head a little.”
There I go again, being entirely too honest and vulnerable with him only seconds after resolving to reinforce my walls.
“Is it because of everything that happened the night we met? Because if so, you should know that I have no intention of leaving again. Not unless you ask me to, anyway.”
“No. That’s not it.” But he’s definitely getting warmer.
“Does it have anything to do with the part when I mentioned the L-word?”
I sigh. “Maybe. I guess it’s just been so long since I had to navigate dating and friendships, and I hate not knowing what I’m doing.”
“Are we still in the second category?” he ventures.
“Friends?”
“Yeah.”
I shrug even though he can’t see me. “Why wouldn’t we be?”
“Because I’m lame and desperate, and I can’t just kiss my best friend like that without hoping it means something more,” he admits quietly, and I smile again.
I barely resist reassuring him that those feelings aren’t one-sided, but only because it’s for his own good. “Well, since nothing else has changed, it’s probably best if we don’t read too much into it and just forget it ever happened. Don’t you think?”
“What if I respectfully disagree?”
My stomach flutters. “What do you mean?”
“What if I were willing to compromise on some of that long-term stuff, at least for now? Think you’d be able to meet me in the middle?”
“I’m not going to be the reason you don’t get your happily ever after,” I tell him, shaking my head.
There’s another thud. “But what if you are my happily ever after?”
I bring my hand up again when my chin begins trembling. “I can’t be.”
“Can’t … or won’t?”
“Both,” I reply, my voice cracking.
“Claire, you know I don’t care that you’re not Catholic or that you’ve been married before, right? Of course, I’d love nothing more than to share my faith with you, but those things aren’t dealbreakers for me.”
“Maybe not in theory, but they’re dealbreakers in practice,” I say with a sniffle.
“Because I won’t sleep with you?”
I squint against the stinging in my eyes. “You know that’s not it.”
He groans. “Then can we please talk about this face-to-face?”
“No,” I say quickly. “If I let you in here, one of us is going to end up breaking some kind of deal.”
“It’s not helping your case when you’re the one to point out it’s safer if you don’t let me into your bedroom.”
“Or my heart,” I accidentally say out loud, and he whimpers.
“It’s too late for that. At least, it is for me.”
“Come on, Rowan, you can’t really believe God would lead you to someone like me, and I can’t let you give up everything that’s most important to you. Let’s face it—if we were meant to be, this would all be easier.”
“Maybe it would have been easy if we hadn’t skipped all the important steps in the beginning and tried to go straight to the finish line,” he grumbles.
What if he’s right? What if our story had gone differently?
What if I’d have just put him up in his own hotel room instead of bringing him back to mine?
Would we have met up for coffee in the morning and started dating like a normal couple?
Would we still have fallen for one another?
Would he have even gone through the trouble of tracking me down later or approaching me at his sister’s wedding?
No. He wouldn’t have. Because I’m not what he’s looking for.
It doesn’t matter, anyway, because that’s not how it went. And at the end of the day, I’m still a hot mess—broken, divorced, infertile—and I can’t give him any of the things he’s been working for his whole life.
At the same time, he may be all I have right now, and I’m just a little too selfish and much too lonely to let him go.
I cringe at the ache in my chest as soon as I consider a future completely devoid of him. I need Rowan in my life in some way, even if we have to settle for something platonic. So I’ll just have to be on my best behavior from here on out.
“But at least this way we became friends, right?” I offer after a while.
“Yeah,” he replies, his voice cracking suspiciously. “Friendship is still … something.”
“I’m sorry,” I say softly.
“Me, too.”
“I’ll try to be better about respecting your boundaries. I promise.” I sniffle as I wait for him to reply. “Rowan? You still there?”
“Yeah, I’m still here.” But he sounds gutted.
“Would it make you feel any better if I admitted that I’m suspiciously close to peak day, so all of this was probably just a result of my raging hormones?” And there’s my inappropriate and poorly timed, self-deprecating humor. I can’t help myself.
He huffs out a laugh. “Not really. Then I’d just feel guilty for taking advantage of you while you’re ovulating.”
“You should know better. You’re supposed to be a professional.”
He grunts, and it sounds like he’s standing up again. “Yeah. Speaking of, it’s past time for me to get out of these dirty scrubs and wash off the day, like you said.”
“Yeah, you probably should,” I say, trying not to picture it.
“Thanks for letting me get that off my chest, at least.”
I wince. “Thanks for being honest.”
“Good night, Claire Bear.”
“Good night.”