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“No way.”
“Way.”
“I’m working part time as a paramedic at the firehouse. I actually enjoy the work.”
“Really?” Rowan sounds truly surprised. “You’re a paramedic?”
“Yeah. Took the classes and everything before I decided that art was my true passion. But I’m still with the job because I like it. It keeps me on my toes.”
“Tell me about it.” Rowan grins, and at once I can see the passion behind her eyes, the excitement she has for healing people in the same way I have excitement for art. I love it. “If I were smart enough, I’d study neuroscience,” she says with a giggle. “Become a neurosurgeon, or something. The human brain fascinates me. Human behavior, emotion, personalities …” she leans back and takes a deep breath of cold air, her eyes glowing with excitement. “It’s crazy to me that the human brain can control everything about us … who we are, how we act, what we love and what we hate.” She sits up and comes closer to me until her lips are nearly brushing mine. Then, her tone drops so she’s barely whispering. “Who we’re attracted to, our primal desires.”
Rowan kisses me then, teasing my lips with her tongue, and I place my hand on the back of her head to hold her there, desperately wanting her, every inch of her, until she’s mine completely. I feel like no matter how close I get to her physically, it won’t even touch the emotional side of things.
“Tell me about your family,” I say, stroking her hair with my fingers. “Do you have any brothers or sisters? Do your parents live around here?”
Rowan sighs, but it’s with contentment. “Honestly, my parents are probably the most boring thing about me, but only in the best ways.” She closes her eyes, and the streetlight basks her face in a warm, almost eerie glow.
“Are you close with them?”
“Oh yes, very much. Especially with my mom. We’re attached at the hip.”
I love her smile. It’s contagious. When she smiles, I can’t help but smile, too.
“What about you?” she asks, and one of her hands comes over to softly touch the stubble on my face. Her skin is so warm. I never want her to let go.
“I don’t know my parents,” I tell her. “I was given up for adoption when I was a baby, I guess. I hear that my mom was a junkie and my dad wasn’t really in the picture, so I’m not surprised.
“God, I’m so sorry.”
“Eh, it’s just life, right?” I place my hand on top of hers and close my eyes. “I bounced through a lot of foster homes when I was little, just living in the system, you know? I finally found a steady place in my last years of elementary school, so I was able to stay in the same district as my friends. The older I got, the less chance there was for an actual adoption, so I was a ward of the state until I turned eighteen and could do what I want.”
“Wow.” Rowan squeezes my hand, then she leans forward and rests her lips on my forehead. “I had no idea, not about any of it. But look where you are now, right? You’re already in your fourth year of college. I’d say you did pretty well for yourself.”
“Yeah, well, that’s debatable,” I murmur, but Rowan kisses me again, shushing me, and in that very moment, kissing this beautiful woman on the bench in the empty quad, I realize that I do want her–I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything else.
And I’m going to have her. Because now … now, I can’t live without her.
