Chapter 15
Keaton
Rowan’s alarm went off way too early.
I made a noise against his chest and reached across him, blindly patting the mattress, then his ribs, then the empty space beside him, searching for his damn phone. “Kill it,” I grumbled.
He stretched toward the nightstand and silenced it.
The room fell quiet again, but there was no pretending we could go back to sleep.
For a few minutes, we lay together under the covers, my leg thrown over his, my hand wrapped around his wrist, as I tried to soak in every last second of us together.
And even though he’d promised he wouldn’t sneak out, my fingers stayed locked around him.
Eventually, I lifted my head, and my hair fell into my face. My cheek was warm where it’d been pressed against his chest, but the second I moved, the cool morning air slipped between us.
He cupped the side of my face. “Morning.”
“No.”
A short laugh burst out of him. “No?”
“I’m officially calling off the morning.”
“You can’t really do that.”
“Watch me.” I dropped my face back to his chest.
He rubbed a hand over my back. “We have to get up.”
“Just give me a few more minutes.”
Neither of us moved.
He must have hit snooze when he turned off his alarm because a short while later, it went off again.
I finally pushed myself up on one elbow as he swiped his phone screen to end the shrill beeping. “What time do you board?”
“Seven-thirty.”
“Did Grant’s assistant really have to book you on an early flight?”
Rowan shrugged. “With my layover in Dallas and the time difference, I won’t get to Tampa until six tonight.”
“True.” I traced his lower lip with my finger and tried to smile, but I knew it didn’t look like a happy one.
He turned his face and kissed my palm. “You can’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you already miss me.”
I watched him for another second, trying to keep my expression even and not be the guy who made things harder than they already were. “You’re right, and I’m sorry. We should probably get dressed.”
I put on a pair of joggers and tugged the black Atlantic Combat hoodie over my head. A part of me hoped that being wrapped in something connected to where he was going would make what was happening a little less painful.
It didn’t.
Once we were both ready, we dropped his luggage by the front door and headed toward the kitchen. Dawn stood at the counter, pouring coffee into travel mugs. Her eyes were slightly glassy, but she brightened when she saw her son.
“I’ve got breakfast burritos for the two of you to eat in the car,” she announced, pointing to the foil-wrapped bundles next to the stove.
“I can grab something at the airport,” he told his mother.
She shoved a burrito and a coffee mug into his hands. “Nonsense.”
Then she handed another burrito and coffee to me.
I took both from her. “Thank you.”
“See?” She pointed at me. “At least he’s grateful.”
Rowan rolled his eyes playfully, and I laughed.
“Is this everything?” Frank asked as he lifted the bag containing Rowan’s gear.
“Yep, but we can get it,” he replied.
Frank nodded, then wrapped his son in a hug before either of them could say anything else, his arms coming around him hard.
I looked away, not because I didn’t want to see them hug, but because the easy affection between them caused an ache in my chest that felt a lot like envy. I’d never had that sort of relationship with my parents.
“You’ve got this,” his dad told him.
“I know.”
“And when you don’t feel like you do, call.”
“I will.”
His dad stepped back, his hands briefly gripping Rowan’s shoulders. “I’m proud of you.”
Rowan swallowed hard. “Thanks, Dad.”
His mom stepped in next, and Rowan barely had his arms around her before a tear slid down her cheek. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “You know how I get.”
He wiped one of her tears away. “It’s okay.”
“I know this is a good thing for you.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m still sad.”
He squeezed her tight. “Me too.”
She pulled back and then held his face between her hands. “Call us when you land.”
“I will.”
“And when you get to the dorm.”
“Okay.”
“And any other time.”
Rowan chuckled. “Got it.”
I started toward the door when his mom looked over at me. Before I could brace myself, she gave me a hug too. “Drive safe.”
I hugged her back. “I will.”
“And text us when you get home.”
My voice roughened. “Okay.”
It was such a simple thing. Text us. Not text Rowan. Not make sure he lets us know.
Us.
Like I was part of the circle of people she worried about.
Frank offered me a hand, but when I took it, he pulled me into a brief hug as well. For half a second, my body didn’t know what to do, but then I hugged him back. When he let go, he cleared his throat. “Remember, you can stop by anytime.”
Knowing I was welcome in their home, even without Rowan, nearly broke me. Probably because the memories I had of my father never included kindness like that. “Okay.”
Dawn kissed Rowan’s cheek one more time, then stepped back before she could change her mind and hold on longer. With breakfast in hand, he and I somehow managed to grab all his luggage, then walked out together.
Light had barely begun creeping over the horizon, and the neighborhood had that early-morning quiet where it would feel rude to close the car door too loudly. Nearby, a sprinkler turned on to water a lawn, and a dog barked a few times, then stopped.
He slid into the passenger seat as I put his carry-on in the back. When I got in on the driver’s side, I sat there for a second, both hands on the wheel, staring through the windshield at the empty street.
“You ready?” I asked.
“No.”
I let out a sigh. “Me either.”
And even though neither of us wanted to go, I drove away from the curb. We didn’t talk much at first. The radio stayed off, and I steered with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on his knee.
“This sucks,” I finally admitted.
His thumb moved over my hand. “It does.”
“I know it’s good, and I understand why Atlantic Combat is the right move.”
“Yeah.”
“I still hate it.”
His fingers tightened around mine. “You’re allowed to.”
When we reached the airport, the sun was shining over the terminal. Cars stopped in the drop-off zone, trunks popped open, and people dragged suitcases to the curb, trying to look more awake than they felt.
I found an open spot and parked. Rowan reached for the door handle first, and then I got out too.
I walked around to the back of the car and lifted his suitcase and gym bag from the trunk while he adjusted his backpack’s strap.
People walked past us toward the sliding glass door, not paying any attention to us as we stood on the sidewalk and stared at each other.
He studied my face, taking his time, as I did the same with him.
He looked tired, his hair was a mess, and his mouth was set in that stubborn way it got when he was trying not to let too much show.
It was annoying how much I loved him.
I’d spent years telling myself Rowan was something I’d survived, a mistake that taught me not to trust the good shit when things finally went my way.
Now he was standing in front of me, a boarding pass on his phone and my hoodie in his bag, and all I could think was that I’d finally gotten him back, just in time to have him leave all over again.
He reached for me, and my arms went around his back as his wrapped around my waist. I pressed my face into his neck, breathing him in like I could savor his scent until I saw him again.
“I don’t want to let go,” I whispered.
“Me either.”
“Then don’t make me do it first.”
He hugged me harder. “Okay.”
Cars continued to pull up to the curb and pull away again. Travelers brushed past us with rolling bags while we held onto each other as if neither of us knew how to let go.
Eventually, we both drew back to look at each other. My eyes were wet, and I was pissed about it because crying at the airport felt like one more piece of evidence proving I was not cut out for this long-distance boyfriend thing.
“This is going to be awesome for you,” I managed.
“Baby—”
“No, let me get it out.” I swallowed, then forced the words past the tightness in my throat. “I’m proud of you, and even though I’m sad, I need you to know that.”
Rowan nodded. “I do.”
“I want you to go kick ass.”
“I will.”
“And call me when you land.”
“Before my mom?”
My eyes narrowed. “Do you want to start our long-distance era with an argument?”
He shook his head and gave me a small grin. “No.”
“Then call me first.”
“Okay.”
“But text your mom immediately after because I’m not getting blamed for that.”
“I can do that.”
I nodded, as if the plan gave me something to hold onto. It didn’t, not really, but it was better than standing there with nothing.
My hand slid around the back of his neck, and I kissed him right there on the sidewalk, without hiding or hesitation.
In the beginning, I loved him in secret.
Then later, I’d let everyone see how much I hated him.
Now I kissed him where anyone could see because I couldn’t bear the thought of hiding him ever again.
Rowan kissed me back with everything he had. When he stepped back, he rested his forehead against mine.
“I love you,” I whispered.
“I love you too.”
“Say it again when you get there.”
“I will.”
“And tonight.”
“Yes.”
“And tomorrow.”
He cupped my face. “Every day.”
My eyes closed for a moment, and then I stepped back, giving him room to grab his things. He looked at me one more time, and I was seconds away from begging him not to leave, but I knew I couldn’t do that.
“Go,” I urged, my voice rough.
He didn’t move.
“Ro.”
He took a deep breath. “I’m going.”
“You have to.”
“I know.”
I dragged my fingers through my hair. “Don’t make me be the strong one. I’m not sure I can be today.”
If he stayed for one more second, I’d ask him to come home with me.
He stepped backward toward the doors without turning around. I stayed where I was with my hands shoved into the pockets of my Atlantic Combat hoodie, and my hair falling into my face, while my eyes stayed locked on his.
The sliding glass doors opened behind him, and with a final wave, he walked inside. He looked back once more, then kept walking.
I’d watched him leave once before from my bedroom window, too angry and scared to say anything to him. Back then, I’d given him nothing, no promise, and no reason to believe I’d ever come after him. This time, I’d given him everything I had, and it still didn’t feel like enough.
I stood there longer than I needed to, staring at the spot where he’d disappeared into the crowd.
My heart felt like it was splintering into a million pieces, even though this wasn’t a breakup or the end of us.
We weren’t seventeen anymore, stuck on opposite sides of silence because neither of us knew how to say what mattered.
He was leaving because he had a shot, because he deserved it, and because loving him meant not making him feel guilty for taking it.
Eventually, I turned around and got back into my car, sitting behind the wheel with the empty passenger seat beside me. Rowan’s breakfast burrito was still in the center console, and I couldn’t help but chuckle, hoping his mom wouldn’t ask me whether he’d eaten it.
Before I drove away, I picked up my phone and typed out a message:
I already miss you and you’re not even in the air yet
A few seconds passed before my phone buzzed:
Rowan
I miss you already too baby