Tempting Rowan

by Micalea Smeltzer

  My fingers twisted together as he turned down the unmarked road that led to his family’s mansion.

  “Rowan?” He said my name hesitantly, like he was afraid I’d start yelling again.

  I had news for him, I was too tired to scream and yell. My breakdown had drained me of energy.

  I nodded, letting him know he could continue with what he had to say.

  “Whatever happened to you, we can fix it,” he whispered, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.

  “There is no fixing this.” I stared straight ahead, biting down on my tongue. “This isn’t something that can just be undone, Trenton.”

  “I don’t know that though!” He raised his voice. “You refuse to tell me what it is, so I have no way of knowing what I can do!”

  The trees disappeared and I saw the mansion up ahead, its large lawn covered in snow, but the driveway clear.

  “Let it go, Trenton,” I warned. “I mean it.”

  He let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as he pushed a button and pulled his car into the garage.

  “How do you ever expect us to have a lasting relationship if you’re keeping secrets?”

  I don’t.

  I didn’t say anything. I simply opened the car door and got out. I wrapped my arms protectively around my chest.

  Trent got out too, slamming the car door closed. He crossed his arms and rested them on the hood of the car. He watched me carefully, not saying a word. With a sigh, he shook his head, looking away from me.

  He grabbed our suitcases and wheeled them to the door. “Come on,” he flicked his hand for me to follow.

  I could feel him pulling away, and it hurt. I knew it was for the best. I was already planning to end things. But the last thing I wanted was for Trenton to hate me. I guessed I was delusional, because of course he’d hate me.

  “Hey mom!” He called out and I stilled.

  I hadn’t seen Lily Wentworth since I was a teenager.

  “Trenton,” she smiled at her son. She was beautiful with long dark hair and pixie features. “Hello, Rowan,” she greeted me brightly, and surprised me by opening her arms for a hug. “Did you enjoy New York?” She asked me.

  I nodded. “It was lovely.”

  Why the heck did I sound so formal? It must have been the mansion giving me the impression that I needed to be more proper.

  “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” she smiled, stepping away. “Well, I have a lot to do before the party, so I’ll leave you two alone.”

  Her heels clicked on the shiny floors as she disappeared down one of the many halls in the mansion. Seriously, how did nobody get lost here? Or maybe they did…and they were never heard from again.

  Trent picked up our suitcases up and started up the steps. I knew the luggage had to be heavy, but he acted as if they weighed nothing.

  “Do you want to get ready in a guestroom, or my room?” He asked, walking ahead of me.

  “Your room is fine,” I shrugged, looking around. “I mean, after this past week, I don’t think either of us have anything to be shy about.”

  He chuckled and the sound of it relieved me. “I guess you’re right about that.”

  He bumped his shoulder against a door, and muttered, “This is my room.”

  The only time I had been here before, I hadn’t seen his bedroom.

  The walls were red, a stark contrast to the yellow walls in his bedroom at the townhouse, but I knew this was his favorite color. The bedspread was a charcoal gray and all the furniture was black. Posters for different bands plastered the walls. It definitely suited the teenage Trenton that I remembered.

  “So…” He sat down on the end of his bed, making it bounce, “this is home.”

  “I like it,” I smiled.

  He shrugged, looking around the large room. “It’s okay. I prefer my place, this room seems like it’s stuck in a time capsule, but it’s nice to still have a place at home,” he chuckled. “It makes me feel like that no matter what happens, I’ll always have this place.”

  “I’m sure you will,” I glanced around, noting a bookcase in the corner, there was a picture sitting there and something about it drew me closer.

  I reached out, wrapping my hand around the frame.

  I gasped as I recognized the people in the photo. It was Trent and I on our school trip, the one where we lost our virginity. We were both sitting on a log. I was smiling and he was laughing at something I had said. It was raw and beautiful, and completely unexpected. I studied my face, the happiness shining there. That day was the last day I had felt true happiness.

  “I can’t believe you have this,” I gasped. “Who took it?”

  “One of the teachers,” he stepped up behind me, his body almost touching mine. “Mr. Jones, I think. He gave it to me, he thought I’d like to have it.”

  “And you’ve kept it for this long…” I breathed. “Trent…” I placed a shaking hand to my mouth.

  He took the picture frame from my hand and replaced it on the shelf. “Of course I kept it. Just because you stopped speaking to me doesn’t mean I stopped having feelings for you. Emotions aren’t something you can turn on and off, Row. Although, I wished many times that I could.”

  I closed my eyes, unable to look at him and see the hurt in his eyes. I hated that I had hurt him, but it was what I had had to do. At first, it was because he told me he loved me and that scared the shit out of me then. It still did. But then other things had happened and I’d pushed myself even farther away from him.

  “Trent,” I swallowed thickly, “I know you probably don’t believe me, but I am sorry for how I treated you.”

  “It’s okay.” He picked up a strand of my hair, rubbing it between his fingers. “We were young and foolish, and I scared you with my words. I meant them then though,” he bit his lip, “and I mean them now.”

  I took a shaky breath. “I don’t deserve your love.”

  I didn’t want to believe in love. Hell, I’d spent most of my life not believing in it. I had seen so much bad that it made it hard to see the good. But I did love Tristan and Ivy. I also knew that there was only one word to describe the look in Trent’s eyes, and that was love.

  Love, the very thing I had been running from five years ago when I left that stupid tent.

  Now that I was ready to accept love, to let myself be free, I knew I had to end things.

  Trent would think I was running again.

  Maybe I was.

  But I had to.

  “I don’t know why you think no one could love you,” he whispered, taking my cheek in the palm of his hand and caressing my lips with the pad of his thumb.

  I placed my hand over his. “My own mother doesn’t love me, if she can’t, why would anyone else?”

  His eyes filled with sadness. “No one should ever feel unloved.”

  I shrugged. “I did…I do.”

  His eyes closed and pain flickered across his face. “That breaks my heart,” his blue eyes shimmered with tears. His arms caged me against the bookcase as he stared unwaveringly down at me. “I want you to know that you’re not unloved. I know your brother and sister must love you very much. You’ve been the only mother they’ve known and your heart is so good and pure how could they not?” He leaned his forehead against mine, his breath tickling my face as he spoke. “And I love you, Row. More than my next breath.”

  I cracked a smile. “That’s really cheesy.”

  He grinned. “That’s me, a giant cheese ball,” he chuckled. Pressing his lips tenderly to my forehead, my eyes closed, and he said, “I meant it, though.”

  I grasped the soft fabric of his blue sweatshirt in my hands. “Don’t we have a party to get ready for?”

  “Why, yes, yes we do.”

  

  Hours later, I stood at the top of the grand staircase, grasping Trent’s elbow.

  I had washed my hair, and styled it in an up-do. I had put on more makeup than usual, but nothing overly dramatic.

&
nbsp; “Ready?” Trent asked, tilting his head to look down at me.

  I nodded, wishing my heart would slow its frantic pace. I was beyond nervous. I was downright terrified. This was way out of my comfort zone, and knowing that tomorrow I’d have to sever all ties with Trenton left a sour taste in my mouth.

  “Breathe,” Trent warned as we descended the steps and made our way to the ballroom. Yes, a legit ballroom. What kind of house has a ballroom? Apparently this one.

  The doors were open and I gasped as I glimpsed my first sight of the expansive space. Everything seemed to shimmer and sparkle with the light from the chandeliers. There was a live band playing orchestra music in the corner, and many couples danced, while more sat at one of the numerous round tables occupying the space. Waiters came around with food and laughter filled the air.

  My mouth fell open in shock.

  This was straight out of a movie.

  “Would you like to dance?” Trent asked.

  I nodded.

  He led me onto the dance floor, and gave me a little spin, before holding me in his arms. He easily led me, like a proper dancer, so I didn’t look like an incompetent fool.

  “I didn’t know you could dance like this,” I commented.

  He laughed, bashfully glancing at the ground for a moment and then met my gaze. “My parents made us learn when we were boys. It doesn’t keep Trace from dancing like a fool though,” he winked, nodding in his brother’s direction.

  I looked where he indicated and couldn’t contain my laugh as I spotted Trace shaking his hips in a wild circle and his arms flailing above his head. Dean giggled as he mimed his father, and Olivia simply shook her head, obviously used to this behavior. Lily watched in horror, embarrassed by her oldest son’s actions. She finally waved her hand in dismissal and went to speak to someone.

  My heart stuttered in my chest as a realization rocked me.

  I loved this family.

  Most importantly, I loved Trent.

  Somehow, Trenton had shown me how to love. Love wasn’t meant to come with strings; it was free and uncomplicated—as easy as breathing. That’s what we had, and I’d tried so hard to fight my true feelings, but they were there. He taught me how to love, and now I didn’t know how I would survive breaking our hearts for a second time.

  “What’s wrong?” He asked, falling out of rhythm to grasp my chin and force me to look at him. He was so in tune with me and my body that he always knew when something was wrong. I wished I were capable of hiding my emotions from him like I could everyone else.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” I lied. Knowing that wouldn’t suffice with him, I hastened to add, “It’s just…your family…they’re amazing Trent.”

  He smiled. “Yeah, they are. I’m lucky.”

  He had no idea how lucky he was. Most people didn’t have families like his. I hoped, when I broke his heart again, that they’d be there for him to help him heal. As much as it killed me to think of Trent with another girl, I hoped he moved on, fell in love, and built his own amazing family one day.

  We danced to one more song, then he led me to the table Trace and Olivia currently occupied. Dean was trying to climb up Trace’s shoulders and yank on his hair.

  “Dean,” Trace scolded, “pulling hair isn’t nice.” He grasped the boy’s small fist and removed it from his hair.

  Dean then proceeded to smack Trace’s cheek. Those two definitely had their hands full with that kid.

  Lily came breezing up to the table and sat down just as a waiter came by with a tray of food, depositing plates in front of all of us.

  Everyone talked and chatted easily with one another.

  Except me.

  I was retreating into myself once more, and I felt like an outsider looking in. I didn’t belong here. I liked all of them, I really did, but they were so different from me.

  “You okay?” Trent leaned over to ask.

  “Yeah,” I replied with a small shrug, trying to figure out how to eat the lobster I had been presented with.

  “Since we’re all here,” Trace took a sip from his wine glass, waving his hand at his family gathered at the table, “there’s something I’d like to tell all of you.”

  We all perked up with interest at whatever the oldest Wentworth brother had to tell us.

  “I’m so happy to tell you guys that Olivia has once again let me plant my sperm inside her and have the joy of watching a baby grow.”

  “TRACE!” Olivia exclaimed, her cheeks a bright red.

  “Congratulations,” Trent raised his glass, as his mom and grandma squealed in delight. “Another baby will be exciting…especially if it’s anything like that little devil,” he pointed to a grinning Dean who was clapping his hands together and blowing spit bubbles.

  “I’m so embarrassed,” Olivia muttered, hiding her face behind a napkin.

  Lily wiped away a tear from her cheek. “I can’t wait for another grandbaby,” she sniffled.

  “Oh shit,” Trent muttered under his breath. Turning to me, he grinned crookedly, “Next she’s going to expect me to get you pregnant.”

  I spat out the sip of wine I had just taken and maroon colored droplets of liquid stained the pristine white tablecloth.

  “I was just kidding, Row,” he chuckled, beating my back as I struggled to breathe.

  I managed to recover in time to see Trace’s grandma hugging him and then Olivia. I couldn’t remember her name though.

  “That’s Grammy,” Trent said, pointing to the older woman. It was like he could read my mind or something. “Her name’s Ellie, but she’ll prefer for you to call her Grammy.”

  About that time, I heard someone behind us call, “Hey, bitch!”

  Olivia’s eyes widened and her cheeks turned even redder than they had been. Poor girl.

  “And that,” Trent said without turning around, “is Avery.”

  The woman appeared at our table, draped over a tall brawny guy. She had pretty red hair, styled in waves, and her red dress was beautiful but skin tight. I was surprised her boobs didn’t fall out. The man beside her—Luca, I assumed—was tall with wide shoulders and shaggy dirty blonde hair that fell over his forehead. A black fedora was perched on top of his head.

  “How was the honeymoon?” Olivia asked as the couple pulled up two chairs to the already crowded table. “I didn’t realize you were getting back today.”

  “It was beautiful!” Avery exclaimed loud enough that people at other tables heard her. “I didn’t want to come home! It was so nice to be at the beach, and now we’re back home to this crappy snow,” she frowned. Noticing me, she leaned over the table and raised a brow, “Who the hell are you?”

  Olivia let out a sigh. “Avery,” she muttered, “manners.”

  “It’s fine,” I smiled at Olivia. “I’m Rowan. Who the hell are you?” I mimicked her words and tone.

  She smiled. “I’m Avery, this one’s wife, so don’t get any ideas,” she grasped Luca’s shoulder in one hand, and let the other venture territorially over his crotch area. Ew.

  Luca, who sat beside me, gave me an apologetic smile but didn’t speak.

  “I wasn’t planning on it,” I assured her.

  “Good. We can be friends then,” she flipped her hair so that it cascaded over her chest, and went back to talking to Olivia.

  “Sorry about her,” Trent murmured. “That’s just how she is. Don’t take it personally.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “This is Luca,” Trent pointed to the man beside me, who I’d already figured out the identity of. “He doesn’t talk much, so don’t expect him to introduce himself. I think I’ve only heard the guy speak a total of twenty words since he and Trace became friends.”

  “Uh…” That was strange and I had no comment. I scooted my chair a little closer to Trent’s and he chuckled.

  They all continued to chat effortlessly, and while Trent tried to engage me in conversation I just wasn’t feeling it.

  I felt so disconnected and out of plac
e.

  “Where’s the bathroom?” I asked Trent, interrupting whatever he had been saying.

  He gave me directions and I muttered, “Thanks,” as I pushed my chair away from the table.

  I walked briskly out of the ballroom and down the hall.

  Luckily, the bathroom he’d given me directions to was empty.

  I closed the door behind me and started counting.

  One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

  The counting didn’t calm me the way it normally did.

  So, I counted again and again and again, until I thought I might go crazy.

  I paced the length of the bathroom, muttering under my breath.

  Finally, I stopped, grasping the pedestal sink in my hands.

  I glared at my reflection.

  I didn’t recognize the girl I saw there.

  The dress.

  The hair.

  The shoes.

  None of it was me.

  I was an imposter.

  I didn’t belong here.

  This life wasn’t mine.

  I didn’t deserve to be surrounded by these people—to laugh and smile with Trent.

  I was tainted.

  I continued to glare at the girl in the mirror.

  I hated her.

  I hated me.

  Before I could stop myself, my fist cocked back and flew into the mirror.

  It shattered everywhere, slicing my knuckles painfully and making me scream.

  I crumbled to the ground, some of the shattered mirror shards digging into the bare skin of my legs.

  My knuckles were on fire and blood dripped from my fingers onto the floor.

  Oh God.

  What had I done?

  “Rowan!” Trent pounded on the door.

  Of course he’d come to check on me. Someone had probably heard the mirror break and my scream.

  “Rowan! Open the goddamn door!”

  I couldn’t move if I wanted to.

  I sat there, cradling my injured hand in the other.

  “I’m going to break down this fucking door if you don’t open it!”

  I shook my head, despite the fact that no one could see me, my throat constricting painfully.