Chapter 13
thirteen
. . .
Violet
Rowan sets his beer down on the floor of the porch, the soft thud of glass on wood pulling my attention just before he shifts forward. He doesn’t look away—not even for a second—as he leans in, elbows resting on his knees, body taut as if he’s holding himself back.
The moonlight cuts across his face, his eyes catching the light in a way that makes them shine like silver, but there’s something wrecked and vulnerable in them, too. It almost makes it hard to breathe.
“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” His voice is low, sandpaper and smoke, but it finds its way into my bloodstream like it was meant to live there.
He leans in again, and the space between us folds in on itself. One breath, maybe two, and we’d be touching.
“Being this close to you and not being able to do anything about it is killing me, Violet.”
The way he says my name is a prayer and a curse all at once. My heart’s a fist in my chest, slamming against my ribs like it’s trying to break free. Still, I can’t speak. I can barely think.
“Rowan…” It comes out quieter than I intend, barely a thread of sound, but it stops him.
His eyes flick down to my mouth, and I swear his gaze reaches me like a physical touch, ghosting over my lips. His throat works as he swallows hard, jaw tight like he’s trying to choke down everything he’s too afraid to say out loud.
“I want to kiss you so bad it fucking hurts,” he murmurs, like the words are being ripped out of him. “I’ve thought about it a thousand times… What you’d taste like, how you’d sound when I finally let myself have you this close.”
His hands are clenched into fists on his thighs. He doesn’t touch me or lean in any farther. Just…looks at me like he’s trying to memorize every inch of my face.
“I want to make up for every damn moment I should’ve kissed you and didn’t. But tell me, Violet…am I ruining this before it starts?”
His question lands heavier than any kiss could. Because underneath that heat is restraint. That aching patience that I’m so, so tired of.
My heart slams against my ribs, and all I can register is that hum of something old and unfinished rising between us like steam off pavement after a storm.
I sit still, so still, afraid even a breath might snap the fragile thread holding us together.
Tension presses in from all sides. His need is written in every line of his body, but he’s keeping it just out of reach. It wrecks me more than if he’d lunged forward and taken what he wanted.
When I look at him, I see regret and hope and everything we never were but almost became.
It’s beautiful. It’s brutal.
Still, I don’t move, because underneath all that wanting is a fear I haven’t outrun even after all these years.
The night folds in around us. Crickets hum somewhere in the dark, sounding far away. All I can hear is my heartbeat, crashing like a wave in my ears. Loud. Erratic. Desperate.
It would be so easy to fall into him and let my heart get tangled back up in his hands.
The porch fades. The heat in his eyes and the way his voice scratched across my skin all blurs for a second.
He says he doesn’t want to ruin this before it starts?
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, my voice barely there but strong enough to mean it. “Can we just…not rush this? Because if this is going to be anything at all, Rowan, I need it to be real.”
His throat works around a swallow, jaw tight as his gaze searches mine. He nods once. Slow.
He leans back just enough to give me space but not enough to be distant. “When you’re ready…I’ll be right here.”
I exhale slowly, heart stuttering. Then I nudge his knee with mine. “You always this patient now, or is that just a me thing?”
Rowan’s laugh is low and warm. “Honestly?” His fingers brush mine. “Just a you thing.”
It’s terrifying how easily he can undo me with just a look, just a few words spoken in that rough voice.
“I’ve had a lot of practice waiting,” he adds, rubbing a hand along his jaw. “And this is too important to mess up.”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. Because the truth is, I don’t know what I’m waiting for anymore. What magical sign am I expecting that will tell me it’s safe to fall? Rowan has always been the beautiful risk I’ve both craved and feared.