Chapter 28
twenty-eight
“Yeah, well. I’ve made it my life’s mission not to miss you.”
Shoving his expression of shock and hurt aside, I harden my resolve. Twelve-year-old me would’ve done anything for him. Even eighteen-year-old me would’ve probably jumped in head first.
Rowan sighs as he gently leads me out of the restaurant, his warm hand at the small of my back. My muscles flex at his touch, and I pick up my pace so I’m a step ahead.
He doesn’t say anything else until we’ve pulled out of the parking lot.
Once we’re on the road, the silence in the car is suffocating. I can feel his gaze flicking over to me every few seconds, but I keep my eyes fixed on the scenery outside the window.
“That was a bit harsh, don’t you think?” he finally says, his voice quiet.
“Was it?” I turn to face him, studying his profile as he drives. The strong line of his goddamn, sexy jaw, the slight furrow between his brows. “I was just being honest.”
His hands tense, twisting on the steering wheel. “Look, I get it. I hurt you. More than once. But I’m trying here, Iz.”
“Trying to use me to save your career, you mean.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it?” I cross my arms over my chest. “You show up after all these years, kiss the shit outta me, and then drop this fake dating bombshell. What am I supposed to think?”
He pulls the car over to the side of the road so abruptly that I have to brace myself against the dashboard. When he shifts in his seat to face me, his eyes are blazing.
“You think I planned this? That I engineered some elaborate scheme just to mess with your head?” His voice rises with each word. “Jesus, Lizzy. I’ve been carrying you around with me for fifteen fucking years! Everything I’ve done—”
He shakes his head as if to clear it. “You’re not just some convenient solution to my PR problem. You’re the only person I’ve ever—” He cuts himself off again, dragging a hand down his face.
My heart jack hammers against my ribs. “I’m the only person you’ve ever what?” I whisper.
“Nothing.” He turns away, staring straight ahead. “Forget it.”
We both fall silent again, the only sound in the confines of the car is our slightly elevated breathing. I search his profile, the way his chest rises and falls, the muscle ticking in his jaw.
“Why me?” I finally ask, my voice softer than I intended. “Out of all the women you could’ve asked, why did it have to be me?”
Rowan turns back to me, his expression raw and unguarded. It’s a look I haven’t seen since we were teenagers. “Because despite what you think, you do know me. And I trust you.”
I look away, unable to hold his gaze any longer. My emotions are a tangled mess—anger, confusion, longing, fear—all competing for dominance.
When he pulls back out onto the road, I rest my head against the back of the seat and close my eyes.
The drive takes about fifteen minutes with traffic, and it gives me some time to think. When he pulls in and parks next to my Jeep in the school’s parking lot to drop me off, I hesitate with my hand on the door.
“Trivia night at The Brew.”
Rowan’s answer is a gruff, “What?”
“This Friday is Trivia Night at The Brew. It could be our next sighting together. Logan and most of my friends will be there.”
Rowan’s eyes light up, and for a moment, I see the boy I once knew—eager, hopeful, genuinely happy. It makes something flutter in my chest that I quickly try to squash.
“Yeah? That would be great,” he says, his voice softening. “I’d like that.”
“Don’t get too excited,” I warn, pushing open the door. “This doesn’t mean I’m saying yes to the whole fake dating thing. I’m still thinking about it.”
“Of course,” he nods, but that damn smile is still there, making the corners of his eyes crinkle in a way that’s entirely too appealing.
I roll my eyes, unable to hide my twitch of a smile. “Right. See you Friday, Hollywood.”
As I climb out and slam the door behind me, I can feel his eyes on me. Keeping my focus on fishing my keys out of my bag, I make my way to my Jeep. Only once I’m safely inside do I allow myself to glance in his direction. Still watching me, he has one arm draped casually over the steering wheel.
When our eyes lock, he raises his hand in a small wave. I respond with a nod before starting my engine and pulling away.
My mind is a battlefield of conflicting emotions as I drive home.
On one hand, agreeing to this arrangement feels like inviting heartbreak back into my life with open arms. On the other hand, part of me—a part I’ve been trying to ignore for so long—wants Rowan back in my life, even if it’s just pretend.
But it can’t all be pretend. Right? We have history. Chaotic history, but history nonetheless.
By the time I get home, I’ve made up my mind. I’ll go to Trivia Night, see how it feels to be around and interact with him in a group setting. Test the waters before diving in.
When I pull in, his parking spot is still empty. Looks like I’ve beaten him home.
As I climb the stairs, my phone buzzes with a text.
SASHA
Heard you were spotted having lunch with Rowan. Spill. Now.
I groan. News travels at the speed of light in this town.
Not much to tell. We talked. That’s it.
SASHA
Bullshit. Details or I’m coming over.
Can’t. Busy with Slash.
SASHA
Your lizard can wait. This can’t.
Sighing, I unlock my door and toss my keys onto the counter. Slash pokes his head out of his log, tongue flicking curiously.
“Hey, buddy,” I murmur, walking over to check his water dish. “At least you don’t ask complex questions.”
My phone buzzes again.
SASHA
Bringing wine. Be there in 20.
Great. Just what I need—an interrogation.
Quickly changing into a pair of comfortable leggings and an oversized, off-the-shoulder T-shirt, I take a couple of wine glasses out of the cupboard. Rummaging through the pantry, I grab some snacks and set them up on the coffee table.
When in Rome and shit.
Twenty-one minutes later, the doorbell rings.
When I open the door, not only do I find Sasha, but Reyna and Noia as well.
“Surprise! I brought reinforcements!”
“Really?” I groan, stepping aside to let them in. “What the hell are you ladies up to?”
“Moral support?” Noia quips. I narrow my eyes. “Okay, fine. It’s a fact-finding mission,” she declares, brandishing a second bottle of wine as she breezes past me. “And don’t even think about being stingy with the details.”
Reyna gives me a sympathetic smile as she steps inside. “I tried to talk them out of it, but you know how they get when they smell possible romance in the air.”
“I can hear you,” Sasha calls from where she’s already making herself comfortable on my couch. “And yes, we can absolutely smell the possibility of a rekindled romance in the making. A hot, sexy, former-best-friend romance.”
I shut the door harder than I should. Grabbing two more glasses, I trudge back to the living room and set them down. “There is no romance,” I huff.
“Then what’s up with the cozy little lunch you two just had?” Sasha asks, uncorking the wine.
“It wasn’t cozy,” I protest, dropping into my favorite armchair. “We were just... talking.”
“About?” Noia prompts, accepting the glass Sasha hands her.
I bite my lip, debating how much to tell them. These are my closest friends, but Rowan’s proposal is... problematic.
Before I can stop myself, I blurt, “You already know about how Rowan is looking for a fake girlfriend.” They all nod their heads. “Well… he wants that to be me.”
Three pairs of eyes widen simultaneously. Sasha actually chokes on her wine, coughing dramatically while Reyna pats her back.
“I’m sorry, what?” Sasha finally manages after clearing her throat.
“Yeah,” I sigh, reaching for my glass. “Apparently, he needs to clean up his image if he wants to direct, and his brilliant solution is to parade around his hometown with his childhood sweetheart on his arm.”
Noia gasps. “Friends to lovers, fake dating, second chance! It’s a trope trifecta!” she squeals.
“It’s insane, is what it is,” I grumble, taking a generous gulp of wine. “If you ask me, it’s more like frenemies to lovers.” Realizing my mistake of word choice, I backtrack, holding a hand up when their eyes go wide. “Without the lovers’ part.”
“Wait, hold on,” Reyna says, leaning forward. “What exactly does this agreement entail?”
I explain everything—the studio’s concerns about Rowan’s playboy image, the publicity angle, the NDA, even the boundaries I’ve set. By the time I finish, all three of my friends are staring at me with varying expressions of disbelief and excitement.
“And you’re actually considering it?” Sasha asks, eyebrows raised.
“Maybe,” I admit reluctantly. “I told him I’d think about it. He’s coming to Trivia Night on Friday with us. We’ll hang out. See how it goes.”
Noia claps her hands. “This is incredible. You do realize your situation is how half my books start, right? Fake relationship turns real, passionate love affair ensues—”
“Hey now. No one said anything about passionate love affairs,” I growl, heat flushing my cheeks when flashes of Rowan kissing me hit my brain for the millionth time. “But he did kiss me.”
A collective gasp hits my ears, and I cringe, waiting for the barrage of questions.
“How was it?” Sasha asks.
I groan, flopping back in my chair. “It was... not terrible.”
“Not terrible?” Reyna echoes. “That’s all you’re gonna give us?”
“Fine,” I snark, taking another gulp of wine. “It was mind-blowing, earth-shattering, toe-curling... all those stupid clichés that actually turn out to be true. Happy now?”
Noia squeals so loud I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter everyone’s wine glasses. “I knew it!”
“But that doesn’t change anything,” I insist, pointing my finger at each of them in turn. “Physical chemistry isn’t the issue here. It’s everything else.”
“Like what?” Sasha asks, refilling my glass.
I run my fingers through my hair, trying to organize my scattered thoughts. “Like the fact that he’s left me twice before without so much as a goodbye. The fact that he’s only here temporarily. And the fact that this is all fake.”
“Is it, though?” Reyna asks quietly.
Even though Reyna is a badass EMT, there’s a softness to her, and I still can’t bring myself to throw what happened between her and my brother in her face to save mine.
My eyes snap in her direction. “What are you saying?”
She shrugs, thoughtfully swirling her wine. “I mean, he could have asked anyone to be his fake girlfriend. Models, actresses, whoever. But he asked you.”
“Because I’m convenient,” I protest. “The fact that we have history makes this easy to sell. His agent is the one who suggested it. Said that based on the storyline, it would be a great marketing tool.”
“Wait. What is the movie about?” Sasha asks, snatching a cookie from the plate.
With a sigh, I let my head fall back between my shoulder blades before lifting it to gaze out one of my floor to ceiling windows. There’s not a cloud in the sky. Only a flock of birds in vee formation making its way through the air.
“It’s about us,” I finally say, turning back to look at them. “Rowan wrote a movie about our childhood together. About the treehouse in my parents’ backyard where we used to hang out. About... everything.”
The room falls silent as my friends exchange glances.
“Holy shit,” Sasha whispers.
“That’s...” Noia starts, clearly at a loss for words for once in her life.
“Intense,” Reyna finishes.
I nod, draining the rest of my wine. “Yeah. That’s one word for it.”
“So let me get this straight,” Sasha says around a bite of her cookie. “The guy writes an entire movie about your childhood together, then comes back to film it in your hometown, moves in across the freaking hall from you—”
“Because of my freaking brother,” I interject.
“Sure,” she scoffs before continuing. “Kisses you senseless, then asks you to be his fake girlfriend while he’s here filming said movie about your shared childhood?”
When she puts it like that, it sounds like…
“And you’re still not sure if he has feelings for you?” Noia adds, raising an eyebrow.
Yup, it sounds like that.
“I don’t know what he feels,” I mutter. “Maybe it’s nostalgia. Maybe guilt. Maybe he’s a committed method actor.”
Sasha reaches over and pats my knee. “Lizzy... I’ve seen the way he looks at you. That’s not just nostalgia or guilt.”
“Or great acting,” Noia adds.
I shake my head, unwilling to let myself hope. “You guys don’t get it. This is what Rowan does. He’s charming and intense and makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world. Then he leaves. It’s what makes him such a great actor.”
“So you’re saying he’s faking it?” Reyna asks, clearly skeptical.
“I’m saying I can’t trust what’s real anymore when it comes to him.” I rise from my place on the couch to pace. “And I can’t afford to get it wrong. Not again.”
Sasha sets her wineglass down with a decisive clunk. “Lizzy, honey, I love you, but you’re being an idiot.”
“Excuse me?” I whip around to face her.
“You’ve been hung up on this guy for years,” she insists, ignoring my glare.
“Now he’s back, clearly still into you, and offering you a chance to spend time with him—fake relationship or not.
Worst case scenario, you get some closure.
Best case...” She trails off, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
“She’s right,” Noia chimes in.
“He did kind of throw in the possibility of more.” I slump back onto the couch. “Said six months to a year is a long time for either of us to go without, since we’re going to keep this exclusive. It’s not like we can go around seeing other people. It would make this whole charade moot.”
“Then I think you should go for it,” Reyna pipes up. “Take advantage of the situation. You’re helping him by letting him use you. So… use him back. For orgasms.”
I snort. “Yeah, right. Not gonna happen.”
“Sure. You say that now…” Sasha grins.
“Shut up and eat your cookie, bitch,” I growl, unable to hide my grin.
They’re wrong though. The last thing I’m going to do is let Rowan Cole get that close, ever again.