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“We’ve known each other since we were fourteen years old. We eat dinner together once a week. We’ve been in the same classes since freshman year. I attend all of your home games. How can you not know me better than that?” Thick tension swirls through the air. “How can you not know who I really am?”
For reasons I don’t quite understand, I’m loath to see him in a different light. It’s easier to cling to my perceptions rather than acknowledge that I could be wrong about him. “Why does it matter?” When I attempt to climb off his lap, his hands tighten around me.
“Because it does. We’re going to get this out in the open once and for all. I won’t allow you to run away from me again.”
Rowan has never frightened me, but in this moment, he does. Not because I’m afraid he’ll hurt or force me into something I don’t want. I’m terrified he’s going to rip through the last of the barriers I have in place to protect myself against him. Running and hiding is so much easier. And that’s exactly what I want to do. My fight or flight instinct has kicked in.
“Don’t try and deny it. We both know that’s your modus operandi.” Before I can defend myself with another lie, he says, “You know me, Demi. Even though you’ve done everything in your power to pretend otherwise, you know who I am at a fundamental level. You need to think about that.”
A thick shiver works its way through my body as everything stills. It’s as if I’m standing in the eye of a hurricane. The center is calm while everything outward is in chaos.
When I fail to respond, he tilts his head, continuing to batter my weakened defenses. “I know things about you.”
My mouth goes bone-dry, making it impossible to swallow. “Like what?”
“I know you’ve been playing soccer since you were four years old, and you started travel when you were eight. Your favorite food is carbonara and eggplant parmesan. You love chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven, and your favorite place to vacation is Maui because that’s the last trip your family took before your mom decided to leave.”
My eyes widen as my mind cartwheels.
I’m at a loss.
Even though Rowan has been in my life for seven years, I had no idea he was paying such close attention to the details. The realization leaves me winded as warmth reluctantly flares to life inside me.
His face looms closer until he’s all I see. Until my world begins and ends with Rowan. “Whether you want to believe it, I know you, Demi.” He presses his palm to the middle of my chest. “I know you.”
My heart clenches before jackhammering into overdrive.
How did I miss all this?
While I’ve been busy pushing him away, he’s been here, patiently waiting for me to see the real Rowan Michaels.
And I didn’t.
Couldn’t.
I lift my hands until my palms can cradle his cheeks. “Tell me something no one else knows.”
A long pause stretches between us. It’s one that leaves my nerves jangled. Just when I wonder if he’ll refuse to answer the question, he knocks me off-balance once again.
“I’m still a virgin.”
19
Rowan
A heavy silence descends as her hands fall away from my cheeks, and her eyes widen to the point of being comical. Except there’s nothing amusing about this moment. Far from it. I definitely made an error in judgment. One of epic proportions that I can’t take back. For better or worse, my secret is out there.
Fuck.
Why the hell did I think it was a good idea to tell her the truth?
It takes a few heartbeats before her expression morphs into one of confusion. A frown settles on her face as she hesitantly shakes her head. “No, you’re not.”
Relief floods through me as I consider lying.
Almost got you! Ha, ha, ha. I’ve banged more girls than I could possibly keep track of. Just listen to all the gossip on campus. My stats with the ladies are legendary.
But I can’t do that. I’m tired of pretending to be something I’m not. More than that, I’m sick of the way Demi looks at me. Like a manwhore who is no better than that fucko Justin. The reality is that I am nothing like him. And it’s important she understands that. I want her to know me. The real me. Not the one everyone whispers about. Not the one girls make up stories about to make themselves look better. As if sleeping with me will somehow bolster their popularity.
It’s pretty fucked.
“It’s true, Demi. I’m a virgin.”
Emotion crashes over her pretty face as she digests that bit of information, gradually coming to terms with it.
Disbelief.
Doubt.
Astonishment.
And finally, acceptance.
Demi may not realize it, but her face is so damn expressive. Her thoughts are there for all to see. I always know what she’s thinking. She would hate it if I told her that. She would hate that I could read her so easily.
