I wait in a peaceful silence for a moment until he says, “I just parked down the block.”
“Okay.” I nearly trip over my feet as I skip over to the door. “I’m buzzing you in.”
“I’m in,” Rowan says. “See you in a minute.”
The line goes dead and I’m rolling my lips together to contain my smile. Just like the times before, I open the door just in time to see him jogging down the hall. “Running again?”
“Good for stamina,” he says with a wink, coming to a stop in front of me.
I chuckle. “I bet.”
Rowan gives me that boyish grin and I wonder if maybe his face was built for smiles because it’s one that radiates sunshine and rainbows. It’s like an injection of serotonin every time I look at him.
I miss him. Oh my god, I fucking miss him and he’s right here, smiling at me. But I haven’t felt him all week and Rowanhasn’t kissed me either, only brushes off his lips on my temple, forehead, and cheeks.
I’m starved and possessed, and I feel like I could ravish him and devour him whole.
It isn’t just the weight of his body on mine, it’s the weight and heat of his body beside mine in the dark with his arms around me. It’s the way his lips melt onto mine with adoration he doesn’t have to voice because he shows it to me every day.
This—Him.He is my place to rest and breathe.
“Are you hungry?” Rowan asks me.
I smile up at him. “Ye-Yes.”
I let him in, making room for him—in both the apartment and in my chest. Not that Ineededto make space, he demands it on his own. He pulled open my fourth and fifth ribs and forced himself through. Then he got cozy there. Picked up a book, perched up his feet, poured himself a drink, and said,“I’m here to stay, sweetheart.”And what was I supposed to do? Loving him…
Loving him is out of my hands.
He’s in the kitchen now—inmykitchen, that he tends to make his own, and I let him. Like I’ve said, he demands space. He commands the spaces he walks into. He’s someone everyone gravitates towards, someone anyone can feel safe with, someone so easy to love.
Rowan Asher is sunshine in human form, and I’m staring into the sun every time I look at him. Let me go blind.
I go to him in the kitchen where he’s pulling plates and our favorite glasses from the cabinets. My hand presses to the center of his back, feeling the muscle and his spine through his shirt. He’s warm and solid, and maybe the opposite of everything I am.
My hand moves across his back until my arm wraps around him and I bury my face in his back, holding him with my hands splayed on his chest. I breathe him in as I press my forehead to his spine. His hands stop their task and he slowly turns in my arms.
“Hey, you,” Rowan whispers and brushes his lips over my forehead.
I peer up at him, drowning in the ocean of his eyes. “Hey.”
“What’s going on?” he asks, the ridge of concern between his brows. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“I want you,” I breathe, my finger tracing the lines of his body over his shirt before my hands rest at his sides.
“Nat,” he whispers, pushing hair behind my ear. “I don’t come over for that, sweetheart. I come to be with you.”
“I know you do.” I throw my arms around his neck and stand on my toes, still barely reaching his face. My fingers push through his unbelievably soft, blond locks and my nails scratch gently. It takes a moment but his only reaction is his forehead lowering onto mine, skin pressing into skin. His hands don’t find my hips or waist like they normally would, and his lips don’t find mine. “It’s okay,” I whisper and lower myself back onto my feet. “I’m sorry.”
“No.” His arm winds around my waist, his left hand around the right side of my rib cage. “Stay right here.” He presses his forehead into mine, shaking slightly. “Stay.”
“I am.”
“I want you too,” Rowan breathes. “You have no idea, Natalia.”
“Show me then,” I whisper, running my nose against his and scratching at the back his head. “Show me.”
“What would you like me to show you, sweetheart?”Rowan says, his voice low and husky—the sound reaching between my legs. His hand around my ribs glides its way down my spine and curves around my ass, resting there.
