by Ellis Logan
Chapter 17
So I was wrong. Life could get better. Infinitely better. Our test in weeds had gone great, I was sure I’d gotten every answer right. The rest of the day had been easy, and I’d rushed home after school so I could get in a quick run and change into Rose’s date-ware before I headed over to Rowan’s.
The address he gave me led to the historic district in the center of town where the houses were both huge and ancient. They all dated from before the revolutionary war, when Vermont had apparently been a country, and not a state. Just like Old Main Street with its war-era cannons on both ends, these houses looked like they contained their fair share of antiques. Even the streetlights in this part of town used special lightbulbs so that they looked like they still burned gas.
I pulled into his driveway on South Street and marveled at his home. It was gorgeous. A huge old colonial painted in rich cream with white trim and a pumpkin-colored front door. A couple of real carved pumpkins sat on the huge stone steps, each step made from a single granite slab. I wondered if his mom painted the door a different color every season. His old beat-up truck looked incongruous sitting in the cobblestone driveway, but at least I knew I had the right house.
I parked behind his truck and climbed up the steps to the huge orange entrance. Before I had a chance to knock, the door opened inwards.
“Hey, come on in. I heard your car come in.”
“Thanks,” I said, shouldering my book bag. “I love your house. What a great neighborhood.”
“Yeah, it’s not bad. My mom complains because she has to get permission for every little thing she wants to do on the property, since it’s historic and all. But she can paint it whatever she wants so she picks a new obnoxious color for the door every month, just to annoy the stodgy old neighbors.”
“I wondered if the orange door was seasonal.”
“Actually,” he chuckled, “she’s going for a spooky black this weekend. The orange is left over from September.”
“That’ll freak the kids out something fierce.” I laughed.
“Oh, you have no idea. My mom gets so into Halloween. She makes my dad dress up as Dracula and she has him lie down in this antique coffin she got on sale at an auction. She dresses like Bride of Frankenstein, and then she has the kids come in two at a time to get candy, at which point my dad sits up and scares the daylights out of them. It totally terrorizes all the kids. Cooper says he still has nightmares about it.”
“He’s such a sweetie,” I murmured. Cooper was like Scooby Doo and Shaggy, all wrapped up together in a tall, cute package. I had a soft spot in my heart for his goofy ways.
Rowan gave me a look that sent shivers down my spine, and not in the best of ways. He looked…cold.
“Really?” he said.
“Well, yeah,” I said. “He’s so goofy and funny. Like a big kid. And he’s so nice to everyone. It’s sweet.”
Rowan narrowed his eyes and grunted. “Come on, we’ll study in the library.” He spun on his heel and stalked off, leaving me wondering what his problem was.
After a moment, I rushed after him, catching up at the end of the hall. “In here,” he nodded. Books upon books lined the walls. A large marble fireplace lay dormant on one wall, flanked by two large windows. Two comfy leather couches faced each other with a large wooden table between them, already covered with textbooks and an open binder. I flopped down on the one where Rowan’s sweater lay draped over the edge, figuring we would sit next to each other.
Apparently, he had different thoughts.
He sat down on the other side, perching close to the table and leaning over his notebook.
“So, I figured we could begin with the basics of what you missed, starting with Newtonian theory and working our way up to quasars.” He ran a hand through his hair while he flipped through his notes. A muscle in his cheek twitched on and off, on and off. My stomach muscles clenched in response to the tension.
“Sure, whatever,” I sulked. Not that he noticed, since he seemed to be sulking mightily himself. Why the hell had he invited me over if he was going to act like this the whole time? Grabbing my textbook, I kicked off my shoes and tucked my feet up under me.
He started shooting questions at me from his notes, rapid fire. Surprising myself, I actually knew most of the answers. We fell into a rhythm, despite ourselves. At one point I looked up and noticed that he was staring at my toes. What, did he think I was I getting his couch dirty or something? I decided not to play along with his drama.
Wiggling my toes, I saucily asked, “You like?”
“They match your shirt,” he huffed and hastily looked away, focusing once more on his damn binder. I had so had enough of this crap. The fighter in me rose up and decided to call him out on whatever his damage was.
“Dude, what’s your problem?”
“What do you mean?”
“You invited me here, remember? And now you are acting like a complete douche. I mean, I walk in, we laugh, you smile, and then you start acting all weird like you’re pissed at me or something. If you don’t want me here, just say so.”
He ran a hand through his hair. The muscle in his jaw flexed a couple more times, and he sighed.
“No, I…of course I want you here. But you…You…”
“Oh. My. God. Spit it out Rowan. What?”
“I know you spend a lot of time with Cooper in school, and you’re right, he is a really great guy, and you only just met all of us, so I mean, if you like him better than me, you know, you can just let me know.” He shrugged and looked back at his book, like he hadn’t just dropped some sort of ridiculous bomb of full-on craziness on me.
“Are you serious? What are you smoking? I’m at your house, Rowan. Not Cooper’s. And Cooper is in love with your sister, hello?” Mystified, I continued, “Why would I be interested in him, anyway, I mean, you are just perfect, I have no idea why you even like me so much and I—“
I didn’t get to finish because suddenly Rowan was on the couch next to me, kissing me like his very soul depended on it, crushing me into the sofa. His rich scent mixed with the library aroma of books and leather and I drank it in. He abandoned my lips to nuzzle my ear, trailing kisses along my ear. Heat rose through my body and my stomach flip-flopped.
“Lunatic,” I moaned. I grabbed him by his hair and dragged his lips away from my clavicle so I could look him clearly in the eyes. “Moron.”
His eyes darkened with passion, his pupils almost fully dilated and gleaming as they searched my own.
“Absolutely. I’m an idiot,” he emphatically agreed and claimed my lips again. More gently this time, like I was something precious he wanted to cherish forever. “I’m sorry,” he murmured against my lips.
I threw my arms around him again and pulled him down on top of me so we were lying down on the couch. I surrendered to the heady scent of him, surrendered to him, wrapping my legs tightly around him, trying to get closer to him. I couldn’t get enough of his mouth, his hands, his—
“Just what the hell is going on here?” a voice boomed from the doorway. My stomach dropped out to the bottom of my feet as Rowan scrambled off of me and I struggled to tame my hair.
A tall, extremely fair man with broad shoulders stared down at me. Rowan’s dad, I could only guess. He was pale enough to almost be considered albino, except for his eyes which were practically black right now with anger. I shrank behind Rowan’s shoulder. Not having a father myself, I wasn’t too familiar with this side of angry authority, but I knew I didn’t like it.
“Dad!” Rowan struggled for composure. “I didn’t expect you home yet.”
“Obviously.” His dad answered drolly.
“No, I mean, we were just studying, and then…Anyways, I thought Mom was coming home soon. Where is she?”
Ah, nice one, I thought. Turn the question around on the parental. Always worth a shot. Too bad it didn’t work.
“She left stew in the crockpot before she left; she texted to let me know she should be back in an hour or so.
Then we can eat.” He eyed me like I was yesterday’s fish left out on the counter and I went cold all over. “Introduce me to your friend, Rowan.”
“Oh, right. Yes, sorry. Dad, this is Siri Alvarsson. Siri, this is my dad, Sullivan Carey. Siri just moved here from Tucson.”
“Alvarsson, did you say?” His face changed, and he looked at me with interest. “I had a friend from Norway with that name. Such a wonderful country.” He smiled wolfishly at me as I stood to shake his hand. He took mine in both of his and grasped tightly. Even though he only held my hand, I felt like he was squeezing the air out of me. Out of the room, even. A sick feeling came over me, and I was pretty sure I was flushed from head to toe. Still, this was Rowan’s dad, and I had vowed to Rose that I would try to make a good impression.
“Yes, sir. It’s nice to meet you, sir.” My mother had taught me the importance of sirring and maaming, which I assumed had been hammered into her in the army.
“Wonderful, wonderful. Well, why don’t you children finish up with your studies and your mother will call you when dinner’s ready,” he directed this last bit at Rowan. “And keep your feet on the floor at all times, hmm? Or else your mother will have all our heads.” He gave me another once over, barked with laughter and left the room. Ew. Well, now I felt just completely dirty and gross. How embarrassing.
“Well, that was embarrassing,” Rowan echoed my thoughts.
We looked back at each other and burst out laughing.
“Is he always like that?” I wondered.
“He’s not easy, that’s for sure. But since he’s never found me in his library necking with a girl before, I can’t be sure.”
“Just boys, huh?” I cracked up at my own joke.
“What do you think?” he questioned me.
“I don’t know, you could be bi,” I could barely breathe now, I was laughing so hard. “I’m sorry, that was just so…Intense. That was so freaking intense!”
He reached out and pulled me to him again. “I’ll show you intense.” And then he started tickling me mercilessly.
We fell back on the couch. Me, breathless from laughing. Him, still torturing my ribs.
“Hey,” I reminded him, “feet on the floor, remember?”
“Right, feet.” He grinned devilishly, stood up and grabbed my left foot. And started tickling that one.
“Argh! Get. Off!” I kicked him back with my other foot, careful not to knock him down, and flipped off the couch.
“You!” I panted, and pointed at the opposite couch. “There. Now.”
I scrunched up my nose and glared at him with mock anger.
“Hey, whatever you say, Serious. Don’t go all ninja on me, please.”
After that, we got back to studying. Rowan’s mom breezed in at one point, saying a quick hello and looking me up and down with undisguised curiosity. Rowan was still sitting on his couch, and me on mine, so at least we weren’t treated to any lectures about propriety. She didn’t linger, practically flitting back out the door, calling over her shoulder that dinner would be ready soon.
Just as she left we heard the front door bang open and shut again, and some giggling in the hall.
A moment later Holly and Cooper appeared in the doorway, flushed and smiling.
“Hey guys!” Holly flounced in and crashed on the couch next to Rowan. Cooper followed, and sprawled out on the other end of my couch. I caught Rowan glaring at Cooper’s leg, which was just a couple of inches from mine. I guess he wasn’t over the whole jealousy thing yet. I scooted over a little and put the book I was holding down between us. Rowan looked at me and I smirked pointedly at him, quirking an eyebrow. I mean really. He so had to get over that.
“Wow, so, you’re really studying?” Holly eyed all the papers out on the table. “When Rowan said you were coming over, I figured that was just an excuse.”
“Subtle Holly, really.” Rowan rolled his eyes. “Besides, Dad’s home, didn’t you see his car?”
At that, everyone in the room adjusted their posture a bit. Holly even leaned forward and started nervously straightening up the mess.
“Ah, so you met the Grand Poobah himself,” Cooper drawled. “Lucky you. How long did the interrogation last?”
“Grand Poobah?”
“Oh, you know, the big cheese, head honcho, der fürher, whatever. Sullivan takes his job as protectorate of this family very seriously, I should know.” I watched Rowan to see what he thought of his friend talking about his dad this way, but he avoided my glance. Holly was giving Coop a wide-eyed ‘shut up’ sort of stare, but he was oblivious, as always.
“I could tell. But no, no interrogation really.”
“Right. Well, no worries, we still have dinner to get through.” He winked at me and patted me on the shoulder. Butterflies flitted through my stomach again, none too pleasantly. I swear, if this kept up, I was either going to have to get checked for parasites or sign up for a Xanax prescription.
I spaced out for a few minutes while everyone else chatted and I tried to settle my nerves. I had just started to get a grip on myself when a bell jangled in the hall.
“Ah, we’ve been summoned.” Holly rolled her eyes.
“That’s the dinner bell.” Rowan explained to me. He stood and walked over to me, holding out his hand to help me up.
“You have a dinner bell?” I whispered as we followed Holly and Cooper down the long hallway, our steps muted by the plush oriental runner lining the floor. The rich red walls were hung with antique oil paintings of foxhunts and snowy mountain landscapes.
“Came with the house. I think it dates back to the 1800’s. Mom gets a kick out of using it.” He rolled his eyes, showing me into the dining room.
The huge table was blanketed in crisp cream linen, complete with candles and a massive cornucopia in the middle filled with all manner of tiny gourds, Indian corn, and cranberries. I scanned the room, wondering where Martha Stewart was hiding. Each plate had a decorative bronze charger underneath it and the glasses all had wreathes of red and yellow bittersweet vines around the stems. A huge copper tureen sat on the table, steaming. Popovers sat in baskets at both ends of the table.
“Wow,” I breathed. “This is amazing, Mrs. Carey.”
“Thank you, Siri.” She smiled at me graciously, although it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Dark blue like Rowan’s, they studied me as I sat in the empty seat next to Rowan’s father at the head of the table. Holly smiled at me across the table. I felt Rowan’s hand clasp mine, and watched as everyone held hands to say grace. Reluctantly, I placed my left hand in Sullivan’s. Coldness seeped into my hand as he took it in an iron grip. Everyone bowed their heads. I peered at Rowan out of the corner of my eye and he gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.
Sullivan’s gravelly voiced rasped through the room, and everyone else murmured along with him.
“We accept this feast today with thanks to our Lord who has given us dominion over the Earth. May it give us strength to find the light, so we may live blessed in His abundance and power and glory forever and forever, amen.”
Okay. So Rowan’s family was Episcopal or something. Or was it the Lutheran’s who liked to talk about dominion and toil? I couldn’t remember. A little intense for me, having been raised up with no particular spiritual beliefs other than some decidedly pagan folktales, but I could deal. I’d had enough sleepovers that ended with Sunday morning mass that I could follow along with the motions. So long as they didn’t try and convert me or anything, we were good.
Rowan gave my hand another squeeze before he let go. I started to pull my hand back from Sullivan, but realized he was still holding it captive. I glanced at him, and he locked in my gaze with his dark, cobra-like eyes.
“I’m glad you have joined us tonight, Siri.”
“Thank you, Sir. I’m glad to be here?” My voice rose at the end unintentionally, making my words come out like a question.
He gripped my hand more tightly, crushing my fingers momentarily. I winced as he released me, t
he blood rushing back to my fingers bringing more pain.
“Indeed,” he smiled. My eyes widened, and I turned away to regain composure. The rest of the family was serving themselves stew from the copper bowl and passing around the popovers, chatting easily amongst themselves. No one had noticed a thing. But I had.
Rowan’s father was one stone-cold freaky bastard. My heart ached for the sweet boy I knew, and wondered how two such easy-going kids could have come from a guy like this. Rowan’s mom must work overtime to make up for his deficiency. No wonder everything looked so Home & Garden perfect.
I took a couple popovers and cracked them open on my plate, slathering their moist cavities with butter. Rowan handed me the soup spoon and I ladled some stew over the rich pastries. I really hoped it didn’t contain any bear or other woodland creatures, but I didn’t have the courage to ask. Either way, I’d have to be a good guest and eat up, so I figured ignorance could definitely be a blessing.
“This smells fantastic. I don’t think I’ve had popovers since we lived in Ireland,” I gushed. I wasn’t lying about the smell. And I did love popovers.
“Oh, did you grow up there?” Mrs. Carey asked. “I can’t quite place your accent.”
“Just nine months. We move around a lot for my mom’s work. I’ve lived all over the U.S.”
“Oh, how fascinating. What about your father? Does he work from home?”
“Um, no, he doesn’t live with us. The last I heard he was working with the British forces.” Generally, I tried not to share too many details about my lack of patriarchal influence. I figured these parental units would be especially lacking in understanding so I tried to steer the conversation back to my mother. “Ireland was a great place to be, especially because I got to see more of our family there.”
“So is your mother Irish, then?” Mr. Carey interjected.
“Yes, she’s mostly Norwegian and Irish.” At least, that had always been the story. Now, I wasn’t actually sure.
“Hey, we might be related then!” Holly exclaimed. “We are mostly Irish, too.”
“Hopefully not too closely,” Cooper smirked at Rowan. I blushed at the implication.
“No, hopefully not,” Rowan’s father frowned at him, obviously thinking the same thing. Thankfully, his wife didn’t seem to pick up on Coop’s reference to kissing cousins.
“It must have been wonderful for you to meet relatives away from home.” Mrs. Carey said sweetly. “I always so enjoy traveling to the U.K. for that very reason. Sullivan often travels there for business, and I love reconnecting with family when we are there. I hope when Sully retires and Rowan takes the reins he will take his tired old mother along with him sometimes.”
Rowan coughed. “Yes, well. That’s a long way off still. Plenty of time to figure that out, isn’t there?”
“Not too far off.” She winked at him. “We’re hoping Rowan will go to university at Trinity. Our families have legacies there going back several hundred years. My brothers all went, and Sully, too.”
Rowan looked down at his plate, pretending disinterest. Only I could see the edge of the tablecloth fisted in his hand near his lap, the pale fabric matching the whiteness of his knuckles.
Holly spoke up. “Lucky for me, Mom paved the way for me to go to Smith College here in Massachusetts. I don’t know if I’d like being so far away from home. I’m still pushing for Rowan to apply to some of the colleges in that area, like Amherst or UMass, then we could even take some classes together still. They have a five college system that shares courses.”
“Rowan knows where his best interests lie,” his father growled. “There’s no need for him to apply anywhere other than Trinity.”
“I’ll apply where I want.” Rowan put his glass down forcefully, sloshing a bit of water onto the tablecloth.
“Where are you applying, dear?” his mother asked me quickly, a forced bright look on her face.
“I don’t know yet. I really like it here so far, so I was planning on looking at Bennington and some of the other local schools. I hadn’t really thought about it too much, actually, but I did love Ireland. Maybe I’ll look at some schools there, too. I have dual citizenship, actually, so I could probably get in pretty easily.”
Under the table, Rowan reached over to lace his fingers through mine. Warmth spread through me at his touch and my pulse sped up.
“Bennington is a great school. I’m sure you would fit in there well.” Rowan’s father emphasized the last part, making it clear he did not think I would fit in well in Ireland. Or maybe he just didn’t think I’d fit into the life they seemed to have planned for Rowan? “I’m surprised your mother hasn’t encouraged you to think more about your education. Or maybe you don’t take your future that seriously?”
“Dad!” Rowan blurted.
“What now?” Sullivan sounded bored. “I’m just saying that maybe she should think about her future more. Do you get good grades, Siri?”
“Yes, sir.” Geez, I felt like I was on a college interview already. Applying to work at the mountain had been way less stressful than this.
“Siri’s in my AP Physics class, Dad, that’s what we were studying for earlier.”
“Ah, yes, studying.” His dad sneered, looking at me now like I was some sort of back-alley prostitute. An awkward silence fell over the table.
I stared down at my plate and picked at my food. So much for my appetite.
“Um, what does your mom do, anyways, Siri?” Holly asked cheerfully.
I sent her a grateful smile. “She’s a security expert, actually. She helps firms implement better systems to protect their data and facilities.”
“Wow, that’s so cool!” Cooper exclaimed. “So she’s a computer expert, too?”
“Not really. But she understands the security end of it really well. She did a lot of classified work for the army before I was born. After she left the military this was a pretty natural way for her to apply her skills.”
“Nice!” Cooper practically bounced up and down in his chair. “Sounds like Mission Impossible!”
I laughed. “Some of her stories do read a little like Bond.”
Rowan squeezed my hand and gazed proudly at me. “Yeah, she’s taught Siri all sorts of martial arts techniques.”
I blushed. So much for girl next-door. Maybe I should have just worn a slutty Bond girl outfit and had done with it.
Holly’s eyes widened.
“No. Way! That is so cool.” She mock glared at her mom. “All I ever learned was piano and jazz dancing.”
She threw up her arms and demonstrated some dance-squad worthy jazz hands.
“So, what do you know? Can you throw down some Krav Maga?” Cooper demanded.
“Actually, yeah.”
“What?! No way, you didn’t tell me that!” Rowan exclaimed. “What else? Come on, spill.”
I chuckled, and started ticking off my specialties on my fingers. “Well, I started with Qigong and Tai Chi as a kid, then Aikido, Tang Soo Do, boxing and Krav Maga. Lately I’ve been experimenting with Capoeira…Oh, and parkour is kind of a new hobby. I’m going to miss it when everything gets iced up for winter. Although of course, I already have a pass to Mount Snow, so I guess I’ll be too busy snowboarding to miss it, actually.”
I finished ticking off my hobbies and saw that everyone was just kind of staring at me, even Rowan. I laughed nervously. “Well, you asked.”
“And you, Jason Bourne, have answered,” said Cooper. Everybody cracked up at that, even the Careys. I almost missed it when Mrs. Carey just looked at her husband and gave the smallest of nods.
“You’ve been trained well, Siri.” Sullivan studied me.
“Yes, sir, I have.” I answered him, unable to hide the pride in my voice. “My mother and I work out almost every day. It’s a great outlet for nerves whenever I find myself in a new place.”
“How wonderful,” Mrs. Carey murmured, sounding like it was anything but, “to have such exceptional skills and be able to defen
d oneself.”
Holly giggled. “Sounds like Siri could defend a whole village.”
“Doesn’t it, though? I wonder what else Siri can do?” Rowan’s dad peered at me like I was some sort of science experiment. “Any other fantastic abilities you’d like to share with us?”
I froze, caught in his cobra gaze again. Oh, yeah. Totally, I thought. Let me tell you all about my freaky ability to predict earthquakes and bond with squirrels. Oh, and who knows what else, since I’m a frickin’ fairy and my powers are still developing. How about you?
“I make killer brownies.” I innocently replied.
There, perfect girl next door. Kapow. Take that.
Everybody laughed and went back to eating. Mrs. Carey asked Holly about the play she was trying out for, and Holly launched into a long description of the part she wanted.
I pushed my food around on the plate, trying to eat and be a good guest, but still suffering from a nervous stomach. The conversation around me faded against the sound of rain pattering on the windows.
I looked up, but the moon was shining brightly through the curtains. A passing storm, I thought, and shook my head as I put my spoon down.
“Something wrong with your food, dear?” Mrs. Carey interrupted Holly to ask me with concern.
“Claudia, I’m sure she’s fine. Leave the poor girl alone,” Sullivan brusquely admonished her. His wife blushed, and I felt a rush of pity for her, having to listen to his pompous posturing day after day.
“I’m fine, ma’am.” Unable to help myself I glared at him and turned to her with empathy, “I just thought I heard some rain outside and remembered I left my car windows down.”
“But it’s not raining,” Rowan said, looking at me oddly.
“No, it’s not. Hearing things, I guess.” I shrugged.
“So, anyways,” Holly continued, “I’ll have more lines than in last year’s play and I’ll get to dress up as a guy and a girl. It’s awesome! There isn’t anyone else who could do–”
Her voice cut off and suddenly all I could hear was roaring wind. Driving rain flew all around me in an almost horizontal pattern, pounding the ground with force. Opulent houses lined the hill above me and rivers of water and mud sluiced their way down the barren landscape. Through the wind, I could hear ragged laughter.
Wait, I knew that voice. I spun around, but I couldn’t see the man clearly through the rain.
“Who are you?” I accused. “I remember you from Rio! What’s happening? What’s begun? Tell me!”
The laughter increased. “You ask the wrong question, young one. You should be asking, how does it end?”
I couldn’t see his face, but I could hear the sneer in his voice.
“Join us Siri, you can’t stop us. Join us, and live. Join us, and win. Fight us…and we will bury you.”
As he spoke, the ground screamed in fury, and the rivers of mud grew in size, huge pieces of land and rock joining them, avalanching down the side of the hill, carving out the ground below the houses. Suddenly, a massive cracking sound split the air and one of homes splintered apart. Terrorized, I watched as it slid down the hillside in slow motion towards me.
“Join us, Siri,” the voice cackled maniacally. “Join us, or we will bury you.”
The house loomed over me.
I cringed and shut my eyes, preparing for the worst. And—
—nothing happened.
Just, silence.
Like, you could hear a pin drop, silence. I opened my eyes, still cringing.
Everyone at the table was staring at me. Rowan’s dad was giving me his x-ray investigator look again.
“Will you be joining us?” His question echoed my vision, and I could only stare back at him open mouthed.
“Huh?” I asked.
Super casual. Super smooth. Yep, that was me. My head pounded and it was all I could do to get the word out.
“For the movie? We’re watching Revenge of the Sith, and we have caramel corn for dessert.”
“Oh, um, you know, I would really love to, I would,” I apologized and the words just ran out of me, “but I’m not feeling too well, actually. My stomach’s been bothering me all day. I mean, I’m sure it’s fine and dinner’s been great, but I think I better head home and get an early night.”
“More popcorn for me,” Cooper whooped and leapt up from the table, grabbing plates to clear as he went.
“Classy, Coop, as always,” Holly laughed and got up to help him clear the table.
Rowan’s dad smiled at me, creepy as ever. He took my hand and my stomach lurched. Pain raged through every synapse in my brain, radiating down through my neck and shoulders.
“I’m sorry you can’t join us, Siri.”
Funny, he didn’t look sorry. But whatever.
“Me, too,” I lied through clenched teeth.
Rowan laid a hand on my shoulder and the pain eased somewhat.
“I’ll walk you out.”
I nodded, and he moved his hand down to the small of my back, gently steering me through the house, down the stairs and out to my car. He opened the door for me, but before I could climb in he turned me so we were facing. He leaned down and buried his head in my hair.
For a moment we just stood like that, breathing in the scent of each other. My bed at home called for me. I felt wrecked. But his deep, citrusy scent soothed me as always, like a balm for my soul.
“I am so sorry,” I exhaled, anguished to have caused a scene.
“No. Don’t say that. It’s all my fault. I should have known…” His hands fisted at my sides, clenching the fabric of my shirt, drawing me closer. “My dad. He’s just a jerk. He puts up with Cooper and Emilie, because they’re practically family, but he’s got a lot of rules that he expects the rest of us to live by.”
“Still.” I ran my fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry I ruined movie night. I want to stay, I really do, but I’m honestly feeling sort of run down still. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Except I did, of course. I was a wingless fairy. But I couldn’t exactly tell Rowan that.
“Okay, well, as long as you leave here knowing two things.”
“What’s that?”
“One: you are adorable even when you are green.” He said kissing me on the nose. “And two: I swear I will never be like my dad. Please, don’t judge me by my parents.”
“Oh god, I would never. I mean, that’s just wrong and evil and all sorts of unfair. I mean, they’re like ancient!” I kidded him.
He regarded me uneasily.
“I mean it, Siri. Please. No matter what ever happens. Remember I am nothing like my father.” He stared into my eyes intensely.
“Pinky Promise.” I held up my pinky. We linked pinkies and shook on it. Satisfied, Rowan took a step back, and I climbed up into the Wrangler.
“Take it slow on the way home. I don’t want anything to happen to my best girl. I think I might be falling for her and I haven’t told her yet.”
Pausing mid-buckle, I tossed him a glance over my shoulder. “I’ll make sure she knows you said that.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, his shadowed biceps standing out in the moonlight, and nodded at me. I finished buckling and turned the key, T. Swift reminding me to ‘shake it off’ on the radio. Rowan stayed like that, watching me like a night sentinel, and I drove away.
