23. Seth
Seth
I wake up to a loud banging on the door—Rowan’s bedroom door. We’re still together. I’m mostly dressed, but she’s not, still curled up against me and sleeping the night away. The hanging clock on her wall ticks, telling me it’s close to noon.
How did I get her to sleep this late? Unheard of.
Whoever it is, they bang again.
“We know you’re in there!” a high-pitched voice calls.
Another joins. Too familiar. “Come out, or we’re telling Mom.”
“Jesus…” I press my fingers into my temples and slide off the bed, slipping on my shirt.
Rowan shifts and opens an eye to look at me. “News spreads fast, but I didn’t know it would spread so far.”
And it’s probably my fault—then again, how was I supposed to know this would happen?
I smile sheepishly. “Sorry. I’ll… play damage control.”
“Good luck.”
Rowan pulls the blankets up over her round shoulders, and I run my fingers through my hair, desperate to look more presentable when I slip out of her room to face the terrors of Starbrook.
My baby sisters.
Except they’re not really babies anymore.
Natalie and Stella are both twenty-one and old enough to surprise me during a weekend they’re free from college.
The days when my mom dressed them in matching outfits are long gone.
Despite being identical, they have an obvious contrast: Natalie’s hair is darker, while Stella’s is shorter and has blonde highlights. She said it’s a balayage or whatever.
Stella is more likely to follow trends, and Natalie likes to do her own thing, but there’s one thing they have in common. They both love annoying me.
I close the door behind me and fix them with a stern look. “What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?” Stella asks, lifting a shapely eyebrow. “Mom said she didn’t know where you were, so we had to go looking. We were worried.”
“You don’t have to worry about anything,” I say. “I had a little too much to drink after the ball last night, and uh… Rowan let me crash here. No big deal.”
It shouldn’t be a big deal. Laurel and I had plenty of sleepovers when we were young, and no one gave me the look of disbelief that my sisters do now.
“Uh-huh.” Stella exchanges a look with our sister. “Why don’t you tell Rowan to join us for lunch, anyway?”
“Lunch.” I rub my forehead.
“Lunch,” Natalie echoes, hitting me upside the head on her way out. “We’re here for the weekend, bozo. It’s called family time, in case you forgot.”
And Rowan has always been a part of the family, but this…
It’s too much. Too soon. Isn’t it?
Rowan agrees to join us for lunch because, of course, she does. I’m the one who’s being weird about it. There’s no reason for me to be nervous when I answer the door, letting her in—and Laurel. Laurel is right by her side.
Does she know about Rowan and me? How many people know?
I shake my head and force on a smile. “Come on in. Adobo is ready, we’re just waiting on the rice.”
“We’re waiting on your terrible timing,” Laurel quips. “Why don’t you ever make the rice on time?”
“I was a little busy with everything else.”
Rowan gifts me a soft smile. The way she looks at me is no different from usual, but it feels new, and my palms are sweaty as everyone finds their way to the dinner table. Ours is smaller than the Hawthornes’ and a little more crowded on a day like this, but the chaos is half the fun.
Laurel sits right between Rowan and me, and the smug smile she gives me tells me she probably knows what’s going on. Or at least, she suspects. If it’s not her psychic abilities cluing her in, I’d bet we have Juniper to thank for that. Of course, this is the one time Juni is a gossip.
Mom is the last to join us at the table. She places a hand over Stella’s and lets out a happy sigh. “It is so good to have everyone together.”
Stella’s lips twitch down, a slight expression change, but one I catch. “Sorry for not coming sooner.”
“Ah, it’s fine.” Mom sits up straighter and begins filling her plate. “Eat, eat. There’s no need to dwell on missed time when we’re all together. And thank you for joining us.” Her gaze lingers on Rowan.
My mom has never been all that interested in my love life. She met Scarlet and liked her—Scarlet was on her best behavior around her, thankfully—but I never brought any of my other exes around. There’s no way she knows what’s going on with Rowan… right?
“Happy to be here,” Rowan says, calm and casual, even though her cheeks are pink. She takes a bite of food and says nothing else, but her silence isn’t exactly unusual.
“It seems like you two have been spending a lot of time together,” Natalie says, looking between Rowan and me.
Mom perks up. “They have, haven’t they?”
I roll my eyes. “Change of subject. Please.”
Laurel grins. “But I love this subject.”
Typical. Rowan and I are surrounded by our little sisters, and of course, they’re torturing us. At least my mom doesn’t join in too badly.
It’s not until lunch is over and I’m doing the dishes that Mom pops up behind me, sets a hand on my shoulder, and says, “Be good to her, SJ.”
“I…” With a plop, I drop the plate into sudsy water and look into the living room, where Rowan is with my sisters.
She smooths a hand over her dark green skirt and looks out the window, as if she’s a million miles away. I’ve always loved how she looks when she’s daydreaming—her lips parted slightly, fingers weaving together, each breath slow.
If only I’d realized what this feeling in my chest—the warmth she always brings me—meant sooner.
Rowan and I spent lunch denying that we were anything more than friends, but I can’t lie to my mom anymore. She cares about Rowan, too.
“I’ll try,” I say. “Promise.”
When I finish the dishes, I send Rowan a text.
Me
I’m taking you out tonight.
I don’t hide that I’m staring, and seconds later, I catch her smiling at her phone.
I’ve done so much wrong in my life, at least in love.
Ending things before they started. Ghosting.
Pushing people away. But if I’m finally going to give Rowan and me a chance, I have to do this right.
I have to take Rowan on an actual date—one outside of Starbrook, where no one we know can run into us and ask us questions.
Plus, there aren’t many date options here outside of the tavern and café.
So, I do what I never do: think ahead, make a reservation, ask my sisters to hang out with Mom for the night, and fill my car with gas.
As much as I’d like to spend more time with my sisters, their being around finally gives me an opportunity to have a night away. I’m going to take it.
The moment I see Rowan in her little black dress with the long-sleeved shirt under it, and those damn sheer tights, it’s all worth it.
For once, I’m the one driving her around—I don’t mean it to be the other way around, but her car is newer, and she doesn’t seem to mind taking the lead.
I want to, just this once, open the door for her as she slips inside. She rolls her eyes at me, but I know her well enough to see the tiny smile at the corner of her lips.
And the first date nerves? They’re definitely here, right on schedule.
The entire ride—just about twenty minutes—is spent with us chatting, as comfortable as ever, but the butterflies won’t leave my stomach.
They intensify when we arrive, and I take her hand, keeping our fingers laced as we take the paved path to the restaurant.
“This place is overpriced,” Rowan says, narrowing her eyes at the building.
“Only the best for you.” I squeeze her hand. “No complaining, all right? When it’s your turn to pick date night, you can plan whatever you want.”
“I’m not complaining.” She nudges my shoulder with hers.
Our back-and-forth sets me at ease, and by the time I approach the hostess, I’m smiling bigger, a little less forced.
Because the hex is gone. Rowan and I are going to make something real, and I’m never going to give anyone a reason to hex me again. I’m going to be a good boyfriend, for once. For her.
I clear my throat. “Reservation for two. Bautista.”
“Of course. Right this way.”
I exchange an excited smile with Rowan as we follow her into the corner of the restaurant that is… not quite the romantic view I was hoping for. In fact, it’s right next to the restroom.
I look around as Rowan takes her seat, and I grimace.
Be good to her. That’s what my mom said, and I’m trying, but something feels wrong. If my mom could see this, she would sigh and shake her head at me. I can practically envision it.
“Do you have anything else?” I whisper to the hostess, seconds from begging. “Anything more romantic?”
She offers me a smile that I know is more polite than genuine; I’ve worked in customer service long enough. “We’re fully booked tonight. Sorry. Is there anything else I can get you?”
Damn it. I shake my head and sit down. “That’s all. Thanks.”
Not the best start to the evening. Rowan is looking right into the kitchen; the bathrooms are a few feet away. What happened to the fountain view I saw online? The view of the beach?
I swear, I’ve never been this kind of person—never been so high-maintenance—but I want everything to go right. And this isn’t what I had planned.
Rowan’s hand lands on mine, grounding me. “Stop.”
My jaw drops. “Stop what?”
“I don’t know, but whatever you’re doing… relax. You can completely ruin this first date, and I’ll still come back for seconds.”
Is it hot in here, or is it just me? I laugh nervously and nod, rubbing my thumb against her fingers. “Sorry. I’ve just… You know my love life was kind of weird—”
“That was before,” she says, never looking away from me. “This is now.”
“I know, and now is good, but I—well, you never know. Right?”
Something could still go wrong. I have to convince myself it’s not—that it’s just because I made the reservation so late, or maybe because I don’t have extra money to slip to the hostess. Why am I so worked up over a table, anyway?
I inhale slowly, preparing to do a vibe reset.
“This is our fifth anniversary,” someone next to us hisses—a woman, probably a few years older than us. The man at the table is much older. “Are you seriously going to be on your phone the entire time?”
“I was just checking—”
“I don’t care what you’re checking.”
I grimace at Rowan, but she doesn’t return the expression.
All right, so the table sucks, and the overall ambiance isn’t the best. This is fine. We can work with this. Vibe reset. She’s being optimistic, and I can be as well.
I clear my throat loudly and open the menu. “What looks good to you?”
“Great question.”
But even as we chatter on about the menu—things I don’t know how to pronounce, and a menu with no pictures—their arguing gets louder. Louder. Servers give them awkward looks, but no one stops the bickering, and I can barely focus on what’s ahead of me.
Rowan sniffs once. Twice. “Is something…?”
Burning.
I look down at the hem of her dress and—how the hell is it on fire? Rowan’s eyes widen. Smoke curls into the air, and the sprinklers go off, dousing us both in water. The fire goes out—whether the sprinklers or her magic, I’m not sure.
Finally, the other couple stops arguing, jumping from their seats and clamoring for attention.
“Fire!” the man yells.
And though the flames are no more than smoke, the room erupts into chaos.
Rowan laughs. Somehow… I laugh with her. As if any of this is funny.
Damn it all. It was so easy to ignore when I wasn’t dating. Sure, that raincloud over my head feeling is still there, but being around Rowan makes it easy to forget. Rowan and I kissed—and did more—without anything getting in the way.
But I’m still hexed, aren’t I?