Chapter Three #3
“Golden brown is the only way to go when it comes to marshmallows,” Evie said. “It takes patience.”
Rowan looked up and met her gaze over the flames. Evie was smiling tenderly.
Rowan nodded and shifted her eyes back to the fire because holding Evie’s gaze was just too hard. It did things to her, made her feel conflicting things. Desire, and also a need to stay away. Love, and also sadness. Confusion, and also anger.
“We had this exact conversation last night,” Jazzy said. “I am Team Rowan. All the way.”
“Same,” said Evie.
Rowan didn’t look up at all that time.
Stevie was there with the graham cracker and chocolate, and Rowan deposited her marshmallow, then sat back to eat the s’more. Evie watched her from across the fire for a beat before seemingly forcing herself to look elsewhere.
Rowan didn’t understand it. At the same time, she wasn’t about to put herself through this all night. After finishing her s’more, she slapped her thighs and pushed to her feet.
“Welp. I’m tapping out. Busy day.” Cries of protest went around the fire, but ultimately, her friends understood that she got tired fast. “I’ll see you all tomorrow.”
“ ’Night, Rowie,” Lizzie said, only calling her that when she’d had a few.
Rowan grinned.
“You need any help going up?” Stevie asked softly.
Rowan squeezed her shoulder as she inched between their chairs. “No. Thanks. I’m good.” She gave a wave, said good night, and headed to the house.
Once inside, she slid the sliding glass door shut to keep the air-conditioning inside, and it was like she sealed all the sound out.
The night just went silent. Which was fine, really.
She got herself a glass of water and headed up the stairs.
At the top, she realized that Claire and Evie would be in the other bedroom up here with her, and she sighed heavily.
She wanted to go into their room, to peek at what Evie had brought—what clothes, what books, did she still wear the same scent—but she knew the girls at the fire could see the lights on upstairs, so she fought the urge and headed to her own room instead.
She left the light off and walked straight to the French door, then opened it quietly.
The deck off the kitchen led to a yard-like area where the fire pit was.
Then there was a staircase that led down to another yard-like area, smaller than the first, the dock, and the lake itself.
So, currently, the fire pit and the women sitting around it were almost directly below her.
She didn’t dare step out onto her balcony and risk being seen, but she stood just inside the door for a moment and listened.
Okay, eavesdropped. She was one hundred percent eavesdropping.
She wasn’t proud of it, but she didn’t move.
“Doing really well.” That was Stevie’s voice. “She gets headaches. And she gets tired.”
A zap of surprise shot through her like an electrical shock as she realized Stevie was talking about her.
“Seems like if she naps, she’s good.” That was Justine.
“True. She didn’t nap today, which is probably why she headed up early.” Stevie again. Rowan hated that they sounded like they were discussing a toddler and her nap schedule. “She also passes out.”
“What?” That was Becca, clearly surprised.
Stevie chuckled. “Not a lot. But once in a while, she faints. Just goes down. It’s happened twice with me.”
“Yikes. That’s scary.” Jazzy.
“That’s why I’m telling you guys. So that if it happens, you don’t freak out.” Okay, so Stevie was looking out for her, not gossiping. She should’ve known better than to think that about her bestie.
“You good?” Rowan didn’t know who Stevie was addressing until Evie spoke up, her voice almost too quiet for Rowan to hear it.
“Yeah. Yeah, it’s just a lot.” She could picture Evie’s face, tinted with concern, that little V notch she got between her eyebrows when she was concentrating.
“It’s been a rough road for her. Add to that the memory loss, and she’s struggled. But she’s doing really well.”
“Wow.” Evie again. “I just…I can’t believe it. I thought amnesia only happened in movies.” She chuckled, but it lacked humor. She was worried. Rowan knew her voice, her cadence that well.
“Like I told these guys, you can’t help her with memories. I mean, you can, but you can’t, like, information dump on her. The doctor says details will likely come back naturally, but giving her too much information at once will confuse her brain. Or something like that…”
Rowan smiled at Stevie’s explanation, which was spot-on, despite the uncertainty in her voice. She was totally allowed to be told small things here and there, to be given information if she asked. But Stevie was right. Large info dumps could be too much for her.
“Okay,” Evie was saying. “Got it.” She sighed loudly enough for Rowan to hear it. “Poor Rowan. It’s…so much.”
“Yeah,” Stevie agreed, and Rowan could tell she had more to say, but was biting her tongue.
The subject changed after that, and Rowan slid the door closed quietly and went into her bathroom to get ready for bed.
Suddenly, she was beyond exhausted. Stevie was right about the nap thing.
Tomorrow, she’d make sure to get a quick one in so she could stay up with the gang in the evening.
Right now, though, she felt wrung out, like a wet dishrag.
She brushed her teeth and washed her face and took her meds.
It wasn’t until she’d crawled under the covers that her brain decided to remind her once again that Evie and Claire would be in the room next door.
There was only one bed, and though it was a king, they were clearly going to share.
Rowan found herself wondering again if they’d become a couple in the past few years that she couldn’t remember.
Despite her doctor’s advice about information dumps, she was reasonably sure Stevie would’ve told her if Evie was with somebody new.
Wouldn’t she?
Maybe not, if she thought she’d be protecting Rowan from pain or more heartache.
She took in a deep breath and willed her brain to give her a fucking break.
It was bad enough that there was so much of her life she couldn’t remember.
Now she was to be treated to the endless wondering about Evie and her current situation.
And of course, after the wondering came the picturing, which was the worst part of all.
She had trouble making Evie and Claire into a couple, honestly, but her mind certainly gave it a try.
She might not remember their breakup that well, but she did remember Evie.
Her body, long and lean, her gorgeously wide smile, that thick, dark hair that Rowan used to love filling her hands with…
“Ugh!” She clamped her hands over her eyes in a lame attempt to erase the vision of a gloriously naked Evie in her head.
Evie had always said that Claire wasn’t her type—brash, kind of judgmental, a little bossy. But they’d been friends since middle school, and Claire would do anything for Evie. Rowan knew it and so did Evie.
But that was then. What if they were together now?
What if it was new?
“God, if I hear them having sex next door, I will jump off this balcony,” she whispered into the empty room.