Page 80 of Wrong For Me


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Tears prickle in my eyes, and I unbuckle my seat belt, sliding to sit beside him. His right arm comes off the wheel, moving to wrap around my shoulders, and he drops a soft kiss to my hair. His arm tightens, and he holds me close as he drives.

A few minutes pass before he whispers again, “I’m afraid.”

“I know you are.”

“I don’t understand it. And”—he swallows—“if I’m honest, I’m not so sure I’m okay with it.”

“Do you … like Gio?”

“He’s cool.”

I laugh lightly and nudge him with my elbow.

He’s quiet for a minute before he sighs. “I think about him sometimes.”

“Like when you’re in the shower?”

“Oakley!”

I start laughing harder, and he joins in, taking his last turn down his street.

When we pull against the curb, I shift toward him. “Are you embarrassed?”

He looks out the front windshield. “Maybe. I’m not really sure. When I stop to think about it, I don’t feel … gay. I like women. I love their bodies and voices and”—he grins, swinging his eyes to mine—“parts.”

My nose scrunches. “Ugh, pig!” I laugh, and he wraps his arms around me in a loose hug. “You know”—I tilt my head, a teasing smirk in place—“a man’s parts are quite—”

“Okay!” he cuts me off.

I know his wheels start spinning, and my head falls back on a laugh.

This feels good. I’ve missed my friend.

“Ever think that maybe it’s not men, Row, but one man?”

He squints, looking away. “Time or two, yeah.”

“In the shower?” I pop a brow.

He smiles, shaking his head. “Get out of the car, jokester.”

He pushes me, so I slide over, pushing open the passenger door, and the second my eyes lift to the house, I spot him leaning against the door. A deep frown is written across Gio’s face, his clothes wrinkled and hair a mess, like he’s been out here all day. Maybe even all night.

“Rowan.”

I reach back and hit his arm, and he glances my way. Then, he cuts his eyes over my shoulder and freezes.

“I think he’s been here all night.”

Rowan doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t even move.

“You call him after the fire?”

“No.”

“You talk to him after everything that happened with Alec at Blackline?”

“No.”

“Hmm …” My shoulders drop. “That explains the scowl.”

“Fuck.”

I sigh this time. “Yeah. Come on.”

I slide out of the car, and Rowan quickly rounds the hood to help me when I first put my weight down on my leg.

The bullet Marissa shot hardly grazed me, but it did hit muscle, so my calf is swollen and sore as shit.

As we grow closer, I watch Gio’s gaze search over Rowan, seeking out cuts, burns, and bruises, I’m guessing.

He was worried.

“Rumor at Blackline is, you went into high flames without a suit to save her.” He nods at me.

“My brother, too.”

“Yeah, heard that, too.” He eyes Rowan, and Rowan looks away. “Guessing you’re good?”

“I’m good.”

Gio nods, his forehead tightening as he shifts his stare to me and my bag in Rowan’s hand. “All right then. See ya when I see ya, I guess.”

Rowan nods, unable to meet his eyes, and Gio walks away. Rowan moves the last few feet to the door and fumbles with the key as he tries to open it. I cover his shaky hand with mine, and he drops his forehead against it.

“What you saw at Blackline? That was the first time that happened. And I haven’t spoken to him since.” He rolls his forehead across the door and connects his eyes with mine. “I can’t even look at him after how I acted.”

I rub his shoulder, and his eyes drop at the edges.

“You can, Rowan. And you need to.” I glance at Gio, who is sitting in his truck, his eyes on us. “You don’t have to lay it all out there right here and now.” I look back to Rowan. “But talk to him. Tell him about our wild night.” I chuckle, and he gives a sad smile. “Really though, I bet he’d be happy to hear anything you have to say right now. It’ll help settle his nerves, confirm you really are okay when he’s probably been assuming the worst.”

His eyes shift between mine. “Think so?”

“Well, he is just sitting there, in his car, waiting to see what move you make.”

Rowan’s gaze snaps that way, and I laugh, lightly shoving him forward. He walks down the grass with his eyes on his feet.

Once he realizes he’s headed for him, Gio leans over and pushes open the passenger door.

Rowan steps up, folding his arms against the roof as he pokes his head in.

With a small smile, I turn the key the rest of the way and step inside, dropping my bag on the floor in the entranceway.

I hobble into the kitchen and grab a water from the fridge. Then, I pull the Wingstop menu from his menu drawer and move to settle on the new couch.

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