Rowan

Chapter 18 | Rowan

A week had passed since her afternoon with James, and she felt like she was living in a dream. He'd been picking her up every day after her classes and taking her out for coffee, or to see a movie, or to just hang out and watch people.

Things at school had been on the lower side of things. Britney had been making things less and less pleasant since that day in the parking lot, and Rowan sensed that she was extremely put off.

The blonde girl would do little things like shooting her nasty looks in class, trying to trip her on her way out of the doors or even at one point sticking her friends upon her in a tirade. Rowan was beginning to feel like she was back in high school by the level of immaturity happening.

The girl herself was standing by the doors scowling as Rowan climbed into the black car, and James followed her gaze.

"Still giving you issues?" he asked.

"She's just being dramatic," she replied, tossing her backpack onto the back seat.

He pulled away from the curb, driving slowly to avoid hitting any pedestrians. She imagined that would get him in a world of trouble. Especially if it was Britney. The thought brought a small smirk to her face and she laughed internally. Now she was the one being immature.

"I'm sorry, Rowan. I wish I could help." he said. And he really did sound apologetic.

"I can handle it," she assured him. "I'm used to it anyways."

They pulled out onto the main road, and she felt the tightness in her shoulders beginning to relax. It was amazing how stressed she could end up after a day of classes. But he'd been right there to pick her up. "You really don't have to do this," she said, feeling guilty. "I'm sure you have better things to do."

He gave her a sideways glance, reaching across the center console to take her fingers in his. "I want to do it. I hated the thought of you walking everyday, especially through this rain."
He hesitated. "And I want to spend time with you."

Rowan turned to take in the man sitting beside her. His hair was getting longer and brushed past his ears. He was wearing his maroon jacket; something she'd come to associate him with. He always had it with him, and she wondered if it meant something to him beyond being just an article of clothing.

And then there were those eyes, which were staring back at her in amusement. She blushed.

A low chuckle resounded from beside her. "What would you like to do today?" he asked.

She shrugged. "What do you feel like doing? I've been choosing every day," she remarked with a small smile.

He seemed to consider something, and she turned to take in the passing scenery, though it wasn't much to look at. It was mostly rain and mud.

"Would you like to come to my place?" he finally asked. The question was spoken low, like he wasn't entirely sure of himself and she looked up in surprise. This was the first time he'd really been willing to let her into his private life.

"Are you sure?"

She was graced with a small smile. "Yes."

•>•>•>

He lived in an apartment about twenty minutes away from the university. It was in a nice neighborhood as far as she could tell, and appeared to be in better condition than the complex she was currently living in.

Her first impression of his apartment was that it didn't say much about the man who lived there. It was relatively empty, and she wasn't sure if it was because he preferred simplicity or if he just didn't own much.

There were no pictures on the walls, and the doors down the hallway were shut. She wished there was something to give her a better idea of what he liked, and where he was from.

He had slipped off his coat and come back to stand in front of her, dragging a hand through his hair as he looked around self consciously. "I know it's not much," he said.

She smiled, wanting to run her hands through his now very tousled hair. "It's lovely. I wish mine was this clean," she said honestly.

"It's not always this clean," he said, smiling sheepishly. "I was hoping to bring you here at some point, since you've taken me to your place."

She nodded, looking around again. He was watching her closely when she turned back around, and the weight of his eyes burned her skin.

And for what felt like the millionth time that day alone, she wanted to kiss him.

She took an unconscious step forward, pausing as she looked up at him unsurely. His expression was unreadable, but something in his eyes changed.

He closed the gap between them, stopping right before his lips touched hers. She could feel his breath soft against her skin, and she held perfectly still, not wanting to even breathe.

And then he finally brought his lips to hers.

It was all fire; a torrential storm had taken root in her mind. She brought her arms up around his neck, letting her fingers slide through his hair.

His hands were resting softly on her waist, and she marveled at how gentle he was with her. He always treated her like she was precious and so very fragile.

And then she remembered Caden, and how he had always commented on how terrible she was at kissing, and how she should just let him control things, and her eyes welled up with tears.

She just wanted to be good enough, and soon this man in front of her was going to realize that she never would be.

"I'm sorry," she cried against him. "I know I'm not-I can't do it right."

He made a sound in the back of his throat, and pulled back, looking into her eyes. "Who told you that?" he rasped lowly. His eyes narrowed at her silence. "That son of a bitch."

He pulled her back in, placing kisses along her jaw, and she clung to him for dear life. "He was wrong," he said against her skin. "About everything."

Somehow they ended up down the hallway, and he nudged a door open on the left. Some part of her brain realized that it was his bedroom, but the rest of her was already too far gone.

He pulled her to the bed, sitting back, and she climbed up with him to straddle his lap as he continued to places kisses on her skin; the sides of her mouth, her fingers, and her lips.

And she felt herself sinking further and further into the abyss that she'd jumped headfirst into without even knowing it.

At some point along the way, amidst her fallen backpack and her jacket, which had been strewn somewhere in the hallway, she had come to a realization.

She had allowed herself to open up just enough to let him see her, the good parts, anyways, but she was never supposed to fall in love.