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“This is stupid.” I push up from the floor, get to my feet, and turn off my phone. I don’t need my mom and brothers texting me, I don’t need Rowen’s friends,ourfriends, expecting anything from our relationship. It’s about us, not them. I roll my neck, get out my makeup, and get ready to go out on a date with this girl that I really like, and could possibly be in love with.
The second Rowen steps out of her house in a black dress, red heels, and her hair in long ringlets down her back, I know I’m absolutely fucked. I haven’t even had time to go to the door and knock, so she was watching for me. That alone is enough for me. A black coat is draped over her arm, and she tucks her lone house key and a few other things in the top of her dress as she walks down the steps to my car. I scramble out to greet her and she stops, eyes taking me in from my red shoes to my blonde hair. Neither of us say anything as I move toward her, glad that it’s not so cold that she decided to cover up. Rowen’s heels click on the bottom step as I get to her and I reach for her fingers without thinking.
“You look amazing.” I lift her arm and spin her around, skirt flaring a little at the bottom to give me a flash of pale thighs.
“You too.” She steps closer, her free hand coming to run through my hair. “I will give you all my money to wear it down more often.” That mischievous smile twitches on her bold red lips.
“Anything for you, but I won’t take a dime.” I lean in to kiss her and she meets me halfway. My arm snakes around her waist, tugging her close. Rowen hums into my lips, arms around my neck. In the heels, she’s a couple inches taller than me, which is a nice change of pace. I settle my hands on her hips and tip my head back a little to see her sea-blue eyes. “Ready?” She nods and I take her hand, lacing our fingers. I open the car door for before closing her in and getting in the driver’s side.
The drive starts out silent, Rowen rests her hand on mine in my lap and I move them to her thigh. She traces her soft fingertips along my blunt nails up to my knuckles and back down. “You’re quiet,” she finally says, a passing streetlight illuminating her face.
“You too.” I glance at her and sigh. “You look incredible.” The next streetlight shows me a pink in her cheeks.
“Thanks. How was the gym? Wyatt come?” It’s an innocent enough question, but there’s this tiny hint of worry in her tone that assures me she knows about the conversation he and I had.
“It was good. He was there.” I tip my head at her and smile. We’re quiet again until we pull up to the restaurant and into a parking place. It’s a free-standing brick building near downtown, the East Hollow answer to the bigger city’s fine dining. The Copper Pot is a restaurant specializing in fondue with burners set into the table where you cook your own pre-prepared food. I reserved a spot for us, a corner booth with roses on the table and all the food decided for us down to the chef suggested wine pairings. Once I park, we walk in, my fingers barely touching hers as we walk to the table and sit down. She lets me sit with my back to the wall and settles in across from me, eyes on my face for a beat before looking around. The place is open with exposed brick and painted pipes running along the ceiling. Rowen picks up a rose from the table and brings it to her nose before replacing it. Finally, she looks at me again as the server arrives and the smirk is back on her lips. He agrees to bring us two waters, our wine, and the first course, an appetizer of bread and vegetables with cheese. The second he’s gone, I reach for her hand around the copper pot in the center of the table and she places her soft palm in mine.
“Wyatt had something interesting to talk to me about today.” I keep my tone light, but her eyes leave mine as soon as I speak. “Row…” Her nickname brings her eyes back to mine. I don’t continue, hoping she’d chime in, but nothing happens. Her lips stay pressed tight, eyes glistening. I swallow, open my mouth, close it.
“I didn’t bring it up,” she finally says. “We were just talking, and Greer asked how things were, I guess I blushed because it’s what I do, and then there was this rapid-fire conversation about talks and setting boundaries, and I said we were just… I don’t know and it snowballed. I should have just come to you first and not said anything to them at all. By the time Wyatt was involved it was too late. They didn’t mean anything by it, I swear. I-” She blows a frustrated breath through her nose and her shoulders slump.
“Are you happy?” Literally nothing else matters but that one question.
“Yes!” She says it so fast and loud that I laugh.
“Good.” I take her hand in mine and squeeze it. “Do we need to talk about this?” Her eyes leave mine again, darting to the side, and I don’t need to be a cop to read this tell. “We can, Row. You know we can.” A big part of me doesn’t want to rock the boat, to put a label on things, but the rest of me, the part who is falling stupidly in love with this girl, wants her to say it.
“I know we can. Obviously. I just…” Rowen rolls her eyes to the ceiling, “Things are good. I didn’t want to push for too much if you like things the way they are.”
“You want more then?” I sit up in my seat, leaning close enough to the copper pot to feel the heat.
“Not if telling you is going to make you rethink this. I’m happy. I like this, like us, but more would be okay too.” She meets my eyes finally and I can’t bite back my smile. “Why is this funny? Do you know how stressed those meddling nerds had me about this? I haven’t eaten since they told me we need to have a talk. I tried to tell them that women are different, we don’t need a talk to define things, but I guess we did and now I’m clingy and worried you don’t want to do this anymore.” I stare at her until she’s done ranting and raise a brow. “Say something!”
“I love you.” The knot tightens as soon as the words are out of my mouth and I feel my face drain of all color. I didn’t mean to. I opened my mouth and words fell out, the wrong words. I meant to tell her she wasn’t clingy, and that things are great. But that didn’t happen.
CHAPTER8
ROWEN
I haveto look like a fish.
Janet Morgan just told me she loves me.
I’m sure time is moving normally, there’s food next to me now, and Janet is staring at me like a deer in headlights.
I need to say something, but no words are coming out.
Janet loves me.
There’s no way she said it to appease me, or prove something, or get in my pants. Everything about the way she said those words was genuine, unscripted.
“I-”
“Fancy meeting you here. God that is such a Southern thing to say.” When I look up, a woman with a black pixie cut stands over us, looking down at Janet like she’s the best thing this woman has ever seen. She is, but I’m the only one allowed to notice. She’s my person. Janet pulls her gaze from mine, a fake smile plastered on her face.
“Reggie. How are you?” Janet’s whole body looks tense.
“Good. Here for a friend’s birthday. You look amazing. I’m not sure I’ve seen your hair down in… wow, it’s probably been since-”
