So, I bailed.
By the time I reach the suite, Waffles is already waiting by the door, tail thumping against the door. He looks up at me expectantly, and for once, I’m glad someone in this building wants something simple.
“Come on,” I say, clipping on his leash. “Let’s take a walk before I lose what’s left of my patience.”
The hallway is quiet except for the soft thump of my shoes on the floor. The sound is steady and familiar, and I make it halfway down the hall before I hear another rhythm join mine.
I don’t need to turn around to know who it is. My body reacts before my brain catches up. My shoulders tense, and my jaw sets tight.
“Mind if I join you?” Rowan’s voice breaks the quiet. It’s calm, even, too careful to be casual.
Of course, he followed. He always does.
I don’t slow down. “I didn’t realize you asked permission.”
He falls into step beside me, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off him but not close enough to touch. Waffles trots between us, tail flicking back and forth, oblivious to the tension hanging in the air.
“Don’t forget, you promised you’d stick this out,” he says.
“I said I’d fake date you,” I answer. “And I will until we drown or the weekend ends, whichever comes first.”
He exhales through his nose, steady but irritated. “Don’t be cute.”
“Too late.”
The silence that follows isn’t peaceful. It hums beneath my skin. Every step echoes off the hardwood, filling the space between us with a rhythm that feels too loud.
Waffles stops to sniff the edge of the baseboard, completely unconcerned with the argument happening above him. I keep my eyes ahead, focused on nothing.
Rowan’s stride matches mine. I can feel his attention and his temper. It presses close without ever touching.
I tell myself to ignore it. To keep walking.
But my pulse is already betraying me.
The almost mistake I can’t stop replaying. The moment I let myself lean back into him when I should’ve stepped away.
I should say something.
He should say something.
But we don’t.
Not until we’re outside.
The path runs along the bay, narrow and lined with damp wood planks. Waffles pulls on the leash, nose to the ground, happy to exist without pressure or pretense. I envy that.
Rowan walks beside me, hands in his pockets, face unreadable. He’s too calm, the kind of calm that means he’s holding something back.
“You almost kissed me,” he says finally.
I let out a short, sharp laugh. “Pretty sureyoualmost kissedme.”
“You didn’t stop me.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I say, stopping short and turning toward him. “Was that your idea of a test? See how far you could push before I remembered you’re the same arrogant bastard who used to circle my class notes in red pen?”
His jaw tightens. “It wasn’t a test.”
