“Could we get a couple black coffees, please.”
“Of course. Anything else?”
“That’ll be all.” I smile politely.
A few minutes later the waitress returns with our coffee. Voices chatter around us. Silverware clanks against the porcelain plates as the other customers eat. Rowan picks at her pancakes, but only takes a few bites before pushing it away.
Regardless of how much I want to put this off, I know we have to have the dreaded talk. The one where I tell her that this isn’t going anywhere. She might surprise me. Maybe she doesn’t want anything more than what I’ve already given her. Maybe we can both walk away from this with our heads held high and hearts still intact. Well, as intact as they were before feelings and sexual tension erupted.
“Nash,” she says right when I’m about to open up the conversation. “I know that to you I’m just Gemma’s sister, but I need you to put that aside for a minute and tell me what you are feeling.”
Caught off guard, I’m not sure how to respond. “Well, I’ve got a massive hangover and this food is making me nauseous.” Probably not the best response. She rolls her eyes and resumes looking out the window. “I’m sorry. I’m just trying to lighten the mood. I don’t know what I’m feeling, Rowan. I like you. At least, I want to like you. But this whole situation feels like one big…” my voice trails off, unable to finish.
“Mistake.” She finishes for me. “You can say it.”
Running my hand over my forehead, I can feel the sweat beads beginning to surface. “That’s not what I mean,” I lie. “I have no regrets about what happened,” I lie again. “But we both know that nothing more can ever come of this.” I take in a deep breath. “And it can never happen again.”
Rowan looks as if I’ve just reached over the table and slapped her across the face. She begins digging in her purse. She slaps a twenty on the table and glares at me as she slides out of the booth. “Don’t you worry. It won’t,” she snaps before walking briskly out of the restaurant.
Watching her leave, I consider stopping her. But I don’t. This needed to happen. I have to let her go, and soon, I have to let her go for good. As much as it hurts, and damn it fucking hurts, she will soon be just a memory.
I take one more bite of my biscuits and gravy before holding up a finger and asking the waitress for the bill. I tuck Rowan’s twenty in the pocket of my sweats and make a mental note to give that back to her. Standing up, I feel like I’ve been hit by a bulldozer. Straight to my head and slicing through my heart.
I drove around for an hour looking for Rowan. Even went to the cemetery, but she wasn’t there. I blew Gemma a kiss and promised I’d be back soon. I figured she’d go for a little walk up and down the street and come back. I called her three times and each time it went to voicemail. She doesn’t have her car, and she doesn’t know many people in this town. Feeling defeated, I head home. The realtor and potential buyers should be long gone by now.
When I walk in the door, I half expect to see her, but the house is quiet. “Rowan,” I holler out as I drop my keys and wallet on the kitchen counter. “You here?”
Silence.
Dropping my ass down on the couch, I feel an emptiness inside. I have no idea what to do now. Not just with the future, but with the day. For the last month, Rowan has been a constant in my life. We’ve spent our days bickering, laughing, and watching movies—she’s become a friend. Now, she’s gone and I feel this void in my chest.
When the door flies open, I spring from the couch quickly, my heart suddenly awakened. “You’re here.”
She closes the door and presses her back against it. “Is that okay?”
I nod, taking slow strides toward her. “I’m sorry I hurt you.” And I mean it. Her tear-stained cheeks fill me up with guilt, only this time, it’s the guilt from causing her pain.
“You don’t have to apologize. It’s my fault.” She places the palm of her hand on my cheek, her eyes delving so deep into mine that I can feel the sadness behind them in my soul. “Your heart will always belong to my sister. I know that.” She removes her hand, kisses my cheek, and walks past me.
“Rowan, wait.” I stop her, unsure of what I’m even going to say. I have to say something. I turn around to face her with her back to me as she stands motionless in the middle of the living room. “Don’t go.”
Walking up behind her, I move the hair on her neck to the side, inhaling the skin of her neck. I watch as tiny goose bumps sweep down her arm like an uncontrollable wildfire.
“Nash, you can’t keep doing this.” She turns around. “This push and pull is making me dizzy.”
“You’re right.” I tuck her hair behind her ears. “Tell me to stop.”
She opens her mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. Instead, her eyes slide down to my lips. “I…” She fumblers over her words. “I...can’t.”
And just like that, our mouths collide. Hard, painful, yet satisfying. It’s like our lips were molded to fit together just for this moment. Just for this one brief moment where nothing else matters. Where I allow my feelings for this girl to exist.
Her head tilts instinctively to the side as her tongue slides aimlessly into my mouth, giving me a taste of sweet maple syrup. Tangling in a mess of desire with my own. I grip her ass in my hands and give her a boost up and her legs wrap around me, her ankles locking together behind my back.
Her nipples poke my chest as they strain through the fabric of my old white T-shirt she’s wearing. My eyes are closed tight, but I can see her beauty behind closed lids. So fucking beautiful—so misunderstood. I had this girl pegged all wrong. She’s fire, but she’s also the calm during a storm. She’s exactly what I needed in my life when I didn’t even know I needed it.
Time has an unusual way of giving us exactly what we need, when we didn’t even realize we needed it.
How am I ever supposed to let her go?
Carrying her into my bedroom, our mouths never part. Fusing together like drying cement on a hot summer day. We crash into the bed together. Her hands weave up my shirt and graze my skin softly, feather-like.
“Nash,” she moans into my mouth. I suck in the breaths that escape, filling my lungs with air that once filled hers.
Snaking my hand between her back and the mattress, I fist her hair in my hand, pressing her mouth harder into mine, devouring her lips. “I want you so fucking bad it hurts, Rowan.”
My dick throbs as all of the blood in my body rushes to it, giving it its own heartbeat. One that thinks and reacts for itself. One that doesn’t let me stop. Rowan’s hands begin pushing down my pants, and I don’t stop her. Instead, I help her. Pushing them further and using my foot to pry them off my ankles, I kick them to the floor.
Lifting my body up just a bit, she pushes me further until I’m up on my knees. My dick sticking straight out at her, begging for her touch. She comes forward, lifting her shirt over her head. Her breasts pop out of the cups of her push-up bra. I stroke my fingers over the skin of her cleavage, then lean forward and press my mouth to it. Tugging her bra down, I take her nipple into my mouth. She groans in pleasure as I unbutton her jeans. She pushes them down to her knees, and I lay her back before sliding them off, throwing them to the side. My shirt follows suit.