Chapter 56
fifty-six
My stomach growls, reminding me that Rowan has sandwiches waiting downstairs. With a reluctant sigh, I pull the plug and step out of the tub, wrapping myself in a plush towel.
I pad into the bedroom to see my clothes are laid out on his bed. Quickly putting on the same jeans and tank top I wore this morning, along with the light blue flannel, I run my fingers through my damp hair.
Making my way downstairs, I follow the sound of Rowan’s voice. He’s on the phone, speaking in a low, aggravated tone.
“No, that’s not what we agreed to,” he says as I walk into the kitchen. He looks up, eyes warming when he sees me. “Look, I gotta go. We’ll discuss this tomorrow.”
He hangs up and sets his phone on the counter. “All good?”
I nod and lean against the island. “Who was that?”
“Just Hank. More damage control after last night.” He looks tired as he runs a hand through his hair. He’s changed into jeans and a T-shirt. “Come on. Let’s eat these in the library.”
I follow him as he grabs a tray loaded with two plates, a bowl of chips, and a couple of Cokes.
The library is just as breathtaking as it was the first time I saw it.
We settle onto the plush leather couch and dig in. The fireplace is lit, keeping the large room warm as we eat in silence.
After we’re done, Rowan tosses his napkin on the empty plate. “So, are you up for one more Hollywood experience before we head back to Lakeside tomorrow?”
I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “What did you have in mind?”
His lips curl into the same smile that has always made my stomach flip. “It’ll be just the two of us. I want to take you for a drive in a couple of hours. After it gets dark.”
“Where to?”
“You’ll see.” He leans forward, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Trust me?”
“Sure,” I say, setting my empty glass back on the tray.
He nods. “Cool.”
Stomach fluttering with excitement, my mind starts whirring with all the possibilities of what he might have planned. A night trip to the beach? Or, maybe risk being arrested by climbing up to sit on the Hollywood sign?
“Stop overthinking it,” Rowan says, reading my mind. He reaches over to take my hand, his thumb tracing circles on my palm. “It’s just us tonight. No paparazzi, no Hollywood bullshit.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
The gate to Rowan’s garage slides open with a smooth hum, revealing a stretch of polished concrete and glass gleaming under bright lights from overhead. Shoes echoing softly with each step, the sound is immediately swallowed by the sheer size of the space.
“Okay. This isn’t a garage. It’s a freaking showroom.”
Rowan grins over his shoulder at me. “It’s great right?”
I shake my head in wonder. “So, you won’t take a private plane, but you’ll buy every fancy car in the known universe?” A snort bursts from my nose before I snark, “If I didn’t already know better, I’d think you were trying to compensate for something else.”
All I get in response is an “uh huh” and a dark, sultry look.
Cars line both sides of the room, sleek and pristine.
Most of which look untouched. A matte black Porsche crouches low to the ground.
Next there’s a midnight blue Aston Martin with a Ferrari sitting beside it.
The Ferrari’s red paint is so freaking glossy, it throws my warped reflection back at me when I lean in.
I feel wildly out of place. Still, my fingers twitch with the sudden urge to reach out and drag one across one of the perfectly curved hoods. But I keep my hands to myself.
Barely.
I follow Rowan over to a silver-gray Land Rover parked at the far end of the garage. It’s lifted a couple of extra inches and has big tires that look like they could handle any terrain. Rugged and practical.
“This is more my style,” I say, running my hand along the door handle.
Rowan’s face lights up. “I knew you’d like it.” He unlocks it with a click of his key fob. “This is the one I always take when Evo isn’t driving me around. The others are mainly to keep up appearances. But they’re still fun to drive every now and then.”
I raise an eyebrow in question.
Looking almost sheepish, he shrugs. “Just a bunch of Hollywood bullshit. My agent and manager think I need to drive something flashy. But this?” He pats the hood affectionately.
“This is my favorite. This baby’s been with me through everything.
She’s reliable, comfortable, and doesn’t draw too much attention. Unlike the others.”
“Unlike you,” I tease, walking around to the passenger side, palm brushing along the cool metal as I go, grounding myself in something solid before I climb in.
“Exactly.” He follows, opening the door for me with a gallant wave of his hand. “After you, Sunshine.”
The interior smells like dark leather, smooth and warm. And when I breathe in even deeper, the clean, masculine scent of his cologne takes over my senses.
Rowan climbs in, closes the door, and starts the car.
The low vibration from the V8 engine rumbles through the floor and up my legs as the quiet thrum of The Weekend’s, Starboy starts playing through the speakers.
I can’t help but grin at the irony.
Rowan backs out of the garage and heads down the winding hill. The city sprawls out before us like a vast, glittering constellation of stars. Night air flows through the partially open window, cool against my skin.
“So, you’re still not going to tell me where we’re going?” I ask, watching the city lights as we descend.
“Patience, Sunshine.” His voice is warm, teasing. “It’s a surprise.”
I settle back into the plush leather seat, content to watch as the city unfolds around us.
Despite the fact that it’s a Sunday night, the streets are still alive with people spilling out of restaurants and couples walking hand in hand.
But here inside our little bubble, with the windows tinted and the music low, it’s like we’re in our own private little world.
Twenty minutes later, Rowan turns off the main road, guiding the SUV up a steep, narrow path that winds higher and higher. Just as the trees start to thin out, the world opens up to a breathtaking panoramic view of Los Angeles spread out before us.
Rowan parks and cuts the engine.
“Wow,” I gasp.
The silence that follows is profound. No sounds of traffic, no other voices. Just the soft hush of our breathing.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he murmurs softly.
“It’s incredible.” I glance at him. “How did you find this place?”
Keeping his eyes fixated on the view, he grins. “When I first moved here, I used to drive around a lot. Getting lost on purpose, trying to get to know the city. Found this spot my second week here.”
Drawn to the view, I unbuckle my seatbelt. “Can we get out?”
“Of course.”
We step out into the cool night air. The temperature has dropped at least ten degrees. I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly grateful I kept the flannel. Rowan shrugs off his jacket, placing it around my shoulders.
“Thanks,” I murmur, pulling it tighter. Warm from his body heat, it emits his familiar scent of citrus and spice.
We lean against the hood, shoulders touching as we take it all in. From up here, the city looks almost peaceful. Streets flow with rivers of white and red, moving like tiny fireflies, forming patterned grids of light.
“I used to come up here a lot,” Rowan murmurs. “Especially when I first started getting recognized. When everything got too overwhelming, I’d drive up here and just... breathe.”
Surprised by the vulnerability in his voice, I glance over at him. “How hard was it?”
“Everyone thinks fame is the dream.” He lets out a short, humorless laugh. “And, sure, parts of it are amazing. But there’s a price. The constant scrutiny, the loss of privacy, the way people look at you differently...” He trails off, eyes still fixed on the horizon.