Please pick up. Please pick up.
On ring number five, I realized Tanya was not going to answer. “Tanya, it’s me. To make a long story short, I don’t have a car, and I’m stuck at the shelter. Can you come and get me? Call me on my cell if you get this soon. It’s seven now.”
I chewed the bottom of my lip as I looked around. It was too far to walk. There was one other option, but I couldn’t go there. Could. Not. Go. There. I didn’t know why. I’d already seen Mike more times than I should’ve since he’d gotten back. But after the I have a girlfriend declaration, I really didn’t want to call him, even though he had been there for me right after the wreck. It just didn’t seem right.
When my phone rang, I flipped it open and started talking before it made it to my ear. “Tanya, thank God!”
“Rowan? It’s me, Mike. Are you okay?”
“Um, sorry. I thought you were Tanya.”
“Everything okay?”
My eyes closed as the richness of that deep voice filled my ears. “I was calling her for a ride. My car is broken, as you know.” I forced a chuckle.
“I’ll come and get you. I’m just leaving Brandon’s and wanted to check on you anyway.”
“I don’t want to be any trouble.” I also didn’t want to be stranded at the animal shelter. If I waited for Tanya to call me back, I may not get out of here early. The thought of losing extra sleep made me want to scream. “I’d appreciate that. Um, do you mind taking me to the store? I need some painkillers.”
“The medics said you needed to go to the hospital if you weren’t feeling any better.”
“I’m fine. I just have a headache.”
“I should take you to the ER.”
“Mike, please.” I tried to keep my voice light, like I didn’t have a care, or pain, in the world. “It’s just a little headache. I think I’m dehydrated. I’m at the shelter. Can you get me here?”
“I’ll be right there.”
I flipped the phone shut. Mike. Always Mike.
HIS CAR was warm when I slid into it, the air surrounding me like a heated blanket. “Thank you. I meant to ask for a ride from Janie, but she left before I remembered.”
“It’s no problem.” He turned in the driver’s seat to look at me. “Are you sure you don’t need to go to the emergency room?”
I let out a long breath. “I’m good. Just a little shaken, I guess.” And when my voice wavered with the words, I realized just how much the day’s events weighed on me.
“I’m not surprised. That was quite a wreck. I’m just glad you’re okay.” He placed his hand over mine.
I stared at that familiar hand, the same one that had grown foreign last year as we hurtled toward our breakup. Now, though, it still looked foreign but also shockingly familiar, like a long-forgotten childhood memory that once it reenters your mind, you realize what a perfect moment that memory held.
“Um…” His voice broke into my thoughts. “To the pharmacy?”
I didn’t even want to bother now with groceries so I nodded. My head pounded like a hammer hitting my temple. By the time he pulled into the parking lot, the blaring lights of the store’s sign created a wave of nausea in my stomach, sending it tumbling over and over until I had to jump out of the car. I vomited all over the side of the parking space.
“Rowan?” Mike’s voice overflowed with concern.
Thankfully, my back was to the car and he couldn’t actually see me get sick. I lifted my right hand back toward him, motioning for him to stay in the car. “I’m fine,” I managed.
“You need to go to the ER. You probably have a concussion.”
“No. I don’t.” I wiped my mouth with my hand, shut the car door, and walked into the pharmacy. With shaking fingers I grabbed pain pills, a small package of saltine crackers, and anti-vomit medicine. Nothing would stop me from sleeping tonight.
I forced my unsteady feet to be steady as I walked back to the car.
“It’s just been a long day.” I slid into the seat, sidestepping my own sickness. “After I lay down a while, I’ll feel better. Can you take me home?”
Mike watched me for several moments, but I closed my eyes and leaned back into the seat. There was still an unsettled feeling in my stomach, like the nausea would burst over me at any moment. I prayed I didn’t get sick in Mike’s car. It wouldn’t be a very nice way to thank him for helping me.
We drove through town in silence. His presence beside me was soothing and helped calm my stomach, if not my pounding head. Soon, the dim streetlamp of my apartment building’s parking lot burned ahead and he pulled in.
“It’s crazy to be at your apartment. I’ve never seen it.”
I cracked open my left eye and gazed at him. “Huh. I guess that’s true. You can come up. It’s small but it’s home.”
“I won’t stay, but I’ll help get you settled.”
We sat in the car for several moments while my mind was working in slow motion, the blasting heat the only sound between us. I realized if he came into my apartment, I wouldn’t want him to leave. Was he feeling the same thing? If my head wasn’t hurting so bad, I might’ve started the conversation. But it was and each time I spoke, a new shot of nausea left me speaking as little as possible.
Finally, he turned off the car and got out. I pushed my door open, and in a flash he was there, his hand on the small of my back as we walked forward.
“It’s upstairs.” We started up the wooden steps. I fumbled for the keys deep in my bag, as conscious of him standing behind my shoulder as I was about my headache. His height had always made me feel safe, cared for, and I was startled to find it was still the case.
Heat rolled off him, and I resisted the urge to lean into his chest as much for support as for my own desire.
“Here we are.” My words came out a little too loud, a little more nervous than I wanted.
And with the turn of a key, I stood back and let Mike enter the apartment. Did I also want him to re-enter my life?
LEVI BOUNDED forward in the small living room, nearly knocking Mike off his feet. He braced himself on the doorframe then bent to pet my dog.
“Hey, boy! Long time no see!”
Levi covered his face with sloppy wet kisses and I felt a pang of something as I watched them.
I went straight to the kitchen for a glass of water. Within seconds I had the medicine bottle open and two tiny pills in my mouth. A gulp of water later and I felt better knowing the meds would work their magic soon. Then I pulled open the saltines and put one into my mouth. The salty blandness of the first bite immediately settled my stomach.
Mike stood, and Levi trotted over to lick my hand.
“How’s Delilah?” Delilah was Mike’s bulldog.
“She’s great. Rotten as ever. She keeps using the bathroom in our neighbor’s yard. I swear she laughs every time she does it knowing old Mrs. Sharp is watching from the window.”
I smiled. Delilah had never really taken a liking to me. Rather, she had tolerated me and my animals with an air of disdain while we lived at the Anderson’s. That never kept her from fishing for a belly rub, though.
Levi curled up by the couch as Scout peeked around the corner but then darted back down the hallway.
“Well, come on in.” I didn’t want Mike to get stuck at the door. That would make it too easy to walk back out of it.
“Thanks.” He took off his coat and laid it over the back of the chair. “Nice place.”
“Yeah. It works.”
“How many bedrooms?”
“Two. Jacob shares a room with Jess. I don’t know what we’ll do when he’s older….” But what if Jess never returned? Jacob would have his own bedroom so it wouldn’t matter. I shuddered at the thought.
“What’s wrong?” Mike was by my side in an instant. “Is it your head?”
I rubbed my arms, suddenly chilled. Was that a premonition? “Nothing.”
“Rowan…” he coaxed, bending down to look in my face.
“I�
��m just tired. And I don’t know how I’m going to do it all.”
“Do it all?”
“Take care of Jacob. Go to school. Work.” My tongue felt swollen and heavy.
“What are your options?”
“Hmm…” was suddenly the only sound I could make. Exhaustion replaced the nausea and my eyelids felt heavier than ten-pound bowling balls.
Mike led me to the couch and helped ease me into it. He sat on one end and patted his lap. I tried to resist curling up with my head on his legs, but it was too irresistible. When he pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and threw it over my body, I was only half a step from a complete coma.
For that moment, tinkering on the edge of fatigue and searing head pain—and contentment like I hadn’t felt in months—I let the warmth of his body engulf me. And it felt amazing.
THE SMELL of pizza wafted into my nostrils, the smell both tantalizing and nauseating. Mike was standing at the door, pizza box in one hand and money in the other. In a quiet voice he thanked the deliveryman and closed the door.
He walked into the kitchen on silent feet and laid the box on the counter. When his back was to me, I raised my head to see how bad the pounding was. There was just a dull ache and no throbbing. I laid my head back on the armrest and watched Mike.
He moved quietly for a big guy, finding plates and cups. He poured a glass of water and then, with little to no sound, pulled a piece of pizza out of the box. Then he walked to the small window in our kitchen and looked outside.
It was strange to see him in my apartment. Shane came over a lot, and I was used to seeing his long body in the small space. Mike was tall like Shane, but thicker. His shoulders were broad with muscular arms, and legs so powerful I loved to run my hand over them. I used to love that anyway. This apartment was too small for his broadness, yet he didn’t seem uncomfortable. And I wasn’t uncomfortable having him here.
In fact, I liked it.
“Hey,” I managed. My voice croaked a little and came out just an octave above a whisper, but he heard me in the quiet.
“Hey.” He put the pizza down and walked over. “I didn’t wake you, did I?” He sat on the edge of the couch. “You were snoring so loud I didn’t think anything would bother you.”
I swatted his arm. “I don’t snore. You’re making up lies.”
He laughed. “Are you hungry? I ordered a pizza.”
As I started to push myself upright, Mike placed his hands on my shoulders. “Easy.” He put a pillow behind my back and rearranged the blanket.
“I’m okay. Thanks.”
“Can I get you anything?”
“Water.”
“And then a slice of pizza? You must be hungry.”
I nodded. “That sounds good.” My stomach rumbled as if on cue, and he chuckled. Soon he was handing me water and setting a plate in my lap. He retrieved his own plate with a new piece of pizza on it and returned to his spot by my side.
“You weren’t snoring, but close enough.” He smiled, and I couldn’t help but return it.
“Hey, now.” I flicked my foot at him and set the water down on the carpet. “I don’t snore or do anything close to that. I’m a proper lady, and proper ladies don’t snore.”
“True. True.” His face turned serious. “How are you feeling?”
“Better, actually. I have just a slight headache. Nothing too bad.” We were quiet for several minutes. I took a bite of the pizza and it had to be the best tasting food I had ever eaten in my life. After two more bites, I laid the plate down. “Thanks for earlier. You know, picking me up. And well, coming to my rescue before that. You’re always there when I need you.”
His eyes were dark when they landed on my face. There was only the dim light from the kitchen illuminating the room but it was enough to see the seriousness behind his stare. “I will always be there for you. I hope you know that.”
It was the intensity of his gaze more than the brevity of his words that squeezed my heart. He had always been there for me. But why did that seem like an important thing to point out now?
Our relationship had started out normal enough, getting to know each other when we were paired for a biology project. We quickly started flirting. He asked me to Prom. We kissed. But then my family life imploded, and I moved into his house. All of this happened within months of the teacher declaring us partners. No one moves that fast.
Except us. And we worked…well enough. We saw each other morning, noon, and night before he left for college. He did things with his friends. I hung out with Jess. We did things with his parents. We even shared a bathroom, we were in such close proximity.
We had made it through Trina’s cries of rape; through Dad beating me until I was black and blue; through discovering the truth of what Mom had done; through Mike’s graduation and his leaving for college; through my dad’s death. There were little trip-ups along the way, for sure, but what seemed to be the undoing, at the time, was when he discovered my scars. He had come home for Dad’s funeral and in the early morning light, when I was asleep in my bed with him beside me, I had moved in a way that exposed my arm.
Poof! He had declared me sick.
We broke up soon after and my heart was broken for the first real time since Aidan died. But, truth be told, there were cracks in our relationship from the beginning. We had moved too fast. We didn’t really know each other. We were thrown into the wild winds of a tornado and didn’t manage to make it out unscathed.
Yet, I knew this guy. And I knew he would always be there for me.
Mike took my hand, luring me from the past into the very real present. “You know I’ll always be there for you, don’t you?”
I nodded when I couldn’t speak.
He laughed, a soft, quiet kind of sound that was tender, sweet, wistful. “Where did we go wrong, Ro?” He put his plate on the floor and rested his elbows on his knees. He gazed down at his hands as if he could find the answers there.
Words, explanations, theories, fought for space in my head. “I don’t know. I guess it was just too much. Too much for us to survive. We moved too fast.”
“We did have an unusual relationship.” His eyes met mine. “Is that why it didn’t work?”
I chewed the edge of my lip. My body tingled, yearning to throw myself forward and land on his lap where I knew he would wrap those arms around me.
“Do you think we would’ve made it if we’d had a normal relationship?” The sadness in his voice made my throat swell. Even though he had a girlfriend and I had a boyfriend, did he miss us like I missed us? I was happy with Shane. But I still missed us.
“I don’t know.” I couldn’t stop the tears that welled in my eyes. I blinked several times, but he saw them. He put his hand on my face and without meaning to, I leaned into his palm. Maybe losing him hurt more than I realized.
“Don’t cry,” he whispered. “I always hated to see you cry.” The tenderness in his voice made me do just that.
I didn’t know if it was the day, the last week, or if it was just this closeness I was feeling with Mike, but I couldn’t stop crying. And soon I found myself in exactly the place I wanted to be—curled into Mike’s body.
SOMETIME LATER, my stomach growled again, the sound reverberating through the quiet apartment. We both giggled, and I pulled away.
“Still hungry?” he asked. He pulled a strand of my hair between his hands, looked at it, then let it fall to my shoulder.
“I guess.” In fact, I was still starving.
“Me too,” Mike said as if he could read my mind. He stood up, but he’d been sitting so long his knees buckled.
That launched me into a fit of giggles, and he started to tickle me. “You think that’s funny?” His fingers dug into my side, and I lost my breath.
“Stop!” I struggled to say between laughter that was so deep I felt it in my gut. “Please!”
“Stop?” He tickled me more. “You want me to stop?”
I nodded, my breath completely gone. Levi
sauntered close to my side, but did nothing to stop the onslaught. In fact, I think he was smiling.
Mike’s fingers stilled and the smile fell, not to a frown, but to something else, something serious. My own face fell into a mirror expression as we looked at each other.
I wanted him to kiss me.
Something told me he wanted the same thing.
He blinked, and his gaze fell on my lips. I resisted the urge to lick them moist. But he didn’t kiss me. Instead, he stood up and ran a hand over his jaw. “What just happened?”
I shook my head, trying to still my heart. “I don’t know,” I whispered.
“I have a girlfriend.”
“I have a boyfriend.”
He nodded, those dark eyes fixed on my face. “What are we doing here?”
The weight of those words made the air stifle. Our history hung between us like a cable, unbreakable but heavy.
“I don’t know that either,” I managed.
He looked across the room out the window. “I miss you,” he said.
My eyes widened. Somewhere my headache was coming back. Maybe it was from the wreck. Maybe it was from trying to figure out the meaning of his last words.
I missed him, too. I had a crush on him before we were ever paired for that project. And when we finally got together, it was perfect, like only perfect can be. We fit together like two missing pieces of a puzzle.
But what about Shane?
“What about your girlfriend?” I asked instead.
His only reply was a shake of his head. It was a vague answer, but I let it go.
When he turned to me, he shrugged, another vague gesture. Turmoil was written all over his face. A mixture of confusion and yearning? Whatever he was feeling, I could tell he felt it deeply.
“I miss you, too.” I bit my bottom lip as the confession took a piece of weight off my chest, like I had been carrying a burden and didn’t even know it. Only with the confession could I see the truth.
My Name Is Rowan: The Complete Rowan Slone Trilogy Page 48
