Chapter 24 Rowyn
Rowyn
I loved video chatting with Jaxon the other night. We haven’t had much time to talk since. Just a few quick texts, a couple of emojis, a stray miss you tossed between practices. I get it. He’s training hard, pushing himself to stay sharp, keeping his focus exactly where it needs to be—on the game.
I should be doing the same.
Focusing on my work.
The article on city hall isn’t going to write itself, and yet the more I stare at my notes, the more my brain refuses to care.
The chase—the thrill of unearthing the next big political scandal—has lost its spark.
Or did I ever really have it? I don’t know, but that’s not great, considering my rent, groceries, and caffeine habit all depend on this job.
If I keep slacking, there’s a good chance my editor will cut me loose.
And for some reason… that doesn’t terrify me like it used to.
It’s not like I have a husband watching my back, a man to support me and tell me to follow my dreams.
Dreams.
Right. Those elusive things.
I glance out the kitchen window, ready to wallow a little longer, when something white flickers past the glass. “What the heck?” I murmur, squinting. Was that a cat? A dog? Some mutant snowball with legs? But no, the snow is behind us now.
Padding barefoot across the cool tile, I press closer to the window.
Jaxon’s house feels cavernous when it’s quiet—open spaces echoing with the faint hum of the fridge and the occasional creak of settling wood.
It’s so much bigger than my apartment, so much more him—all clean lines, warm woods, and that faint cedar scent that clings to his hoodies.
Technically, I don’t have to stay here while he’s gone.
It’s farther from work, inconvenient, impractical.
But somehow, being in his space makes me feel closer to him.
Like his presence still lingers here—in the unmade bed, the faint coffee ring on the counter, the dent in the couch cushion where he always sits.
Honestly, I’m already running late for work, but I don’t care. I like being here. Puttering around. Sneaking time to work on my project—the one I can’t tell anyone about. The one that would earn a full-on disapproving glare from my mother.
A shriek of laughter slices through the quiet. High-pitched, gleeful, unmistakably childish. I blink, then tilt my head. What on earth?
I slide open the patio door, a gust of crisp morning air hitting my bare legs.
The sound is louder now, followed by the thump of small feet on grass.
My confusion dissolves the second I spot Dani—one of the WAGs I met briefly at a game—standing in the yard.
She’s laughing as she tries to wrangle her twins, Everly and Sidney, who are darting between Jaxon’s planters like sugar-fueled tornadoes.
For a second, I freeze. Should I even be here? Will she think it’s weird that I’m staying in Jaxon’s house while he’s away? Then I remember that everyone thinks we’re a couple. To them, it’s normal. Expected.
Dani spots me and waves, slightly breathless. “Rowyn, oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. We didn’t mean to invade your backyard!”
Technically, it’s not my backyard, but the words warm me anyway. “No worries,” I say, stepping closer to the railing, a smile tugging at my lips. “What’s going on out here?”
Dani laughs, tossing her hair out of her face as Everly chases Sidney toward the fence. “Rainy morning, trapped twins, and a pet that got away. Pretty much chaos as usual.”
I lean on the railing, watching the kids tumble over each other in the grass, and something soft settles in my chest.
“What kind of pet?” I ask, squinting at the blur of white darting between the grass and the patio chairs. Whatever it is, it’s fast as lightning.
“A bunny,” Dani says, smiling as she ducks to catch one of the twins. “The twins wanted a bunny for their birthday. Her name is Poppy.”
Poppy… The name sets off a flicker in my memory. Jaxon had mentioned her before—the girl who sometimes stops by. My stomach twists a little. Wait… could this be the Poppy he’s been talking about?
“We think she has a crush on Jaxon,” Dani adds, laughing as Everly squeals when Poppy hops near her feet.
I blink. “A crush? Are you kidding me?”
Dani shrugs, mischievous. “She sneaks over here every chance she gets.”
That’s when it hits me. The jar in the cupboard with Poppy’s name on it—the one I’d peeked into the other day. It had little baked treats inside, but they smelled… unusual, and I hadn’t dared try one.
“He keeps treats in a jar,” I muse. “Maybe that would help lure her in.”
Dani’s eyes light up. “That could work.”
I dart inside, grab the jar, and carry it outside. “Got it.”
“Yes!” she cheers. I hurry down the steps and Dani comes closer, the twins trailing behind, and I pop the lid. The scent of something sweet but vaguely herbal wafts up. Dani reaches in first. “Here, Everly, try this.”
A few seconds later, Sidney is cradling Poppy in his little arms, while Everly gently feeds the bunny a treat. The bunny nibbles delicately, twitching her nose. It’s absurdly cute, and for a moment, I can’t help but laugh.
“Is Jaxon home?” Everly asks, blinking up at me with wide eyes.
“He’s on the road with your daddy, remember?” Dani reminds her, ruffling her daughter’s hair.
Dani shakes her head, her ponytails flop over her shoulders like little flags. “Poppy isn’t going to be happy.”
I chuckle, the corners of my mouth tugging up. “She really does have a crush, huh?”
Dani grins. “Jaxon has that effect on a lot of women,” she says, and the sound of her laughter makes me tense a little.
“You’re not wrong,” I admit softly, letting my gaze drift to the house, imagining Jaxon bustling around it, oblivious to the chaos.
I feel a flicker of irritation mixed with something else—a gnawing sense of protectiveness.
He doesn’t chase the bunnies, doesn’t flirt, doesn’t play the part everyone expects him to.
And yet… I can’t stop thinking about the mess Ember left behind.
How she toyed with him, how careless some people can be with hearts that aren’t theirs.
Poppy nibbles another treat, blissfully unaware of the complicated human feelings swirling around me. And I can’t help but wonder…will Jaxon ever get what he truly wants?
“Your kids are adorable,” I say, crouching slightly to get a better look at Everly and Sidney. Tonight I’m helping Gina out again and I’m looking forward to hanging with Zoe and little Grant. Zoe is such a great help. “It can’t be easy having twins.”
Dani shrugs, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s challenging, sure, especially during the season, but we make do.”
“You run a doggy daycare business too, don’t you? I heard you loved it.”
Her face brightens, and for a moment, I see that glow, the one that comes from doing something you truly love. “Yes, and I do love it. But since the kids, I’ve dropped my hours considerably.”
I hesitate, then ask the words that immediately make me cringe the second they leave my mouth. “Do you… regret that?”
Oh, smooth, Rowyn. Smooth.
Honestly I wish I could get my words back, because one, it’s none of my business and two, it sounds judgmental, like being home with your kids is somehow a lesser calling. Thanks, Mom, for embedding that nugget of insecurity deep in my brain.
Dani only shrugs, her eyes soft but steady. “Kids are on loan, Rowyn.”
“Uh…” I tilt my head, furrowing my brow, trying to parse the meaning, and she chuckles softly, as if she’s used to this expression.
“We only get them for a short time,” she says gently. “When your kids are little, you’re the center of their world. As they grow, you move from coach… to cheerleader… to spectator. I want to be the center of their world, and be there for them for as long as I can.”
Her words hit me like a tiny hammer to the chest. My heart pinches so sharply that it’s almost hard to breathe.
My mother never framed it that way. To her, I was a nuisance—a distraction from her career, an obstacle to her ambition.
Dani’s perspective…it’s the opposite. Love, presence, devotion.
And somehow it stirs a yearning in me that I can’t shake.
“That’s really lovely,” I whisper, my voice a little too soft even for me. “They’re so lucky to have parents like that.”
She meets my gaze, her eyes lingering as if she wants to ask me something, something I’m not sure I’m ready to answer. I cut the moment short. “Well, I’d better get going. Don’t want to be late for work.”
Dani smiles, a hint of playful apology in her expression. “Have a great day. And again, sorry for barging into your backyard.”
“No problem at all,” I say, feeling the genuine warmth in her tone. “You guys have a wonderful day, and I’ll send Jaxon over to visit Poppy when he gets home.”
Her face brightens suddenly. “Oh, wait. Speaking of away. Are you going on the Vegas trip?” Her eyes widen, eager and hopeful, and somehow it makes me feel… included, like I belong in a little world I don’t usually get invited into.
“I can’t wait,” I tell her.
She claps her hands together, practically bouncing. “Me too!”
I step back inside, the quiet of the house folding around me once more. I close the jar of treats and tuck it into the cupboard, the faint smell of baked sweetness lingering in the air. Washing my hands, I glance out the window and watch the kids hurry home with Poppy bounding after them.
And that little tug—that quiet, persistent ache of longing—slides through me again, sharper than it has in weeks. Why does it hit me so hard these days? I’m not sure, I only know It’s now impossible to ignore.
I finish my last sip of coffee, push back from the table, and head outside.
The warm morning air hits my face, and I squint against the soft sunlight filtering through the trees.
I greet a few neighbors who’ve grown used to seeing me leave Jaxon’s place—half smiles, nods, casual hellos—and I slide into my car, seatbelt clicking into place.
Muscle memory takes over, and I drive the familiar route without really thinking, until I find myself parked in front of Golden Grinds. My stomach tightens. Will Matt be here?
The door swings open before I even reach for it. “You’re running late,” a familiar voice says from behind. Heavy and effortless, it has that curious edge I know too well. Billy. I don’t need to turn to confirm it.
I step inside, then glance over my shoulder. “Thanks. Yes, running late. Did I miss anything at work?”
“Nope.” He winks, a little grin that says I owe him. “I covered for you when the boss came looking.”
I exhale quietly, letting a fraction of relief wash over me. We move toward the counter, and I steal a glance around. Matt isn’t here. Probably gone, considering my arrival is later than usual.
“Looking for someone?” Billy asks, voice casual, though I can tell he’s curious…digging.
“No.” I shake my head, trying to keep my tone even. Just then, the barista approaches. I place my order and glance at Billy. “I’ll get his too.”
He smirks. “Thanks.”
I tap my card against the machine, confirming payment for both of us. “Thank you… for covering for me,” I add, a little softer this time.
We step to the side, waiting for our drinks. Billy’s gaze lingers on me, the hint of something probing in his eyes. “Everything okay?” he asks. “You’ve been running late a few times.”
“Been staying at Jaxon’s,” I admit. “It’s further out than my place. I just need to adjust my mornings to account for the commute.”
His grin widens, but there’s a sparkle of mischief too. “Ah, that makes sense. He’s away right now. He must have given you your own key.”
“Yes, he did.” I’m not sure I want to know where he’s going with that.
His eyes narrow slightly, and I instinctively inch back. He’s fishing for details. “You two became a thing, fast. Anything I should know?”
I shake my head, keeping it light. “No. Just old friends who reacquainted and realized there was something there.”
He arches a brow, challenging. “Here I thought it was Matt you liked.”
Was it that obvious? I force an uncomfortable laugh. “Nope. It’s Jaxon.”
Billy’s grin shifts into something amused and slightly scandalized. “Hot and heavy at lightning speed.”
Hot and heavy… I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from rolling my eyes. Sure, we might be, but give me a break.
Then his eyes widen, darting down to my midriff. “Wait. Don’t tell me you’re—”
“God, Billy, no. Why do you jump to such crazy conclusions?”
“Not crazy. Not really.”
I shiver at the thought, even as logic steadies me. I can’t even imagine it—getting pregnant would throw all the trust we’ve built into flames. But it’s not something I have to worry about. IUD. Done. Nothing’s going to happen.
He tilts his head, cluelessly earnest. “Isn’t marriage and a baby what every woman wants?”
I blink. My irritation flares. He’s so completely out of touch it’s maddening. “No,” I blurt, sharper than intended. “Not all women want that.”
Especially not me. Not now. Not with Jaxon. Not like this.
Much.