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When I open my eyes, a hot rush of tears stream down my cheeks.
“Are you all right?”
I slap a hand over my heart, surprised to see Rowan sitting on the couch with his elbows on his knees, his expression pinched and serious.
“Shit.” I sniffle, smiling with embarrassment. “I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”
“You didn’t.” He stands to his full height, handsome in a pair of slacks and a short sleeve polo, and when he slips his hands into his pants pockets, I fight the urge to stare. “I enjoy listening to you play.”
A tangle of flutters hit the bottom of my stomach like stones, and I glance at my hands to hide the effect his praise has on me.
He steps up on the platform and turns my face up. “Why are you crying?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure. It’s been like that since my mom died. I can’t get through a single song without tears.” My skin tingles where his thumb gently smooths a stray tear across my cheek.
“I’ll never understand how easy this is for you,” he says, a hint of fascination in his voice.
“What do you mean?”
Rowan lowers his hand. “Expressing your every thought, every feeling.”
I can’t hide my bitterness. “Believe me, I wish I could mask them as effortlessly as you do.”
Sure would’ve saved me a lot of trouble when I was younger. Back before expensive makeup could help me blend in with everyone else.
“It’s a blessing and a curse,” Rowan remarks, but frowns as his eyes flick across my face. “For example, I can’t even articulate what I’d like to say right now.”
“‘I’m insanely jealous of your amazing talent,’ could be a good place to start,” I tease.
Rowan’s grin is devastatingly irresistible. “Look at that. She’s beautiful and a mind-reader.”
I squirm beneath his stare. Now’s probably a good time to say something equally flattering, but I’m at a loss for words in this unfamiliar territory between blind attraction and misshapen boundaries.
With a curt nod, he steps off the platform. “I’ll leave you be.”
My knee bounces anxiously as I watch him go. The smart thing to do would be to head straight to my room for the night, get in my cold, lonely bed, and try to forget about Piper’s advice to enjoy myself here.
But just because we’re roommates doesn’t mean we can’t also be friends, right?
I hurry after him to his usual spot. It’s the one place in the manor I’ve avoided entirely, except in the middle of the night when I secretly peek in to find him doing the same thing as always—sitting in front of a fire, a drink in one hand, and his laptop propped open on the coffee table.
“Aren’t you going to bed?” I ask from the doorway.
He doesn’t bother turning around. “If that’s your way of asking to join me in my room, then the answer is yes.”
I cross my arms, but his humming chuckle when he rounds the table in front of the fireplace butters my insides.
“No, that’s my way of asking why you hardly ever sleep.”
A bucket of ice, a pair of glasses, and a decanter full of amber liquid are already set out for him on the table. Rowan fills each one with ice and a good amount of whiskey. “Are you going to stand there all night, or would you like to have a drink with me?”
I step inside the room and meet him by the fire.
“One drink,” I say, “and only if you answer my question.”
Rowan is unbelievably handsome, even more so with flickers of orange and red dancing across his face. But it’s those eyes I have trouble looking away from when I take the glass he offers.
“I don’t like how quiet it is out here, away from people, traffic, just noise in general.”
