I tug and tug, but the glove hates me.
Rowan gives me that golden retriever smile. “Need help?”
I groan, surrendering. “Yes.”
Laughing, he pulls the glove on himself, easily. Then my hand is in his again and I never want to let go of him ever again. I’ve determined that I can’tnottouch him, I can’tnotbe with him—notspend time with him.
I think I need him the way the sky needs the sun. The way fish need water. The way he needs me.
For the first time, at the door, I look at him and say, “I’m going to give you top secret information.”
He smiles—he’s always smiling when he looks at me, this one. “Okay.”
“The code to the building,” I say. I type it in and I say the numbers out loud. “Zero-Five-Zero-Three. Then, pound.”
The door buzzes but I leave it untouched.
“Do you, um, want to try it?”
That damn smile. “Okay.”
His left forefinger—because his right hand is still holding my left one—presses each number on the key pad. Zero. Five. Zero. Three. Pound key.
He knows the code now.
The door buzzes and he pulls it open, allowing me inside first. We move through the second door, and into the elevator.
“So, that code,” he says, his eyes watching the numbers increase as we pass the first floor. He turns, peering down with a half smile. “You gave it to me.”
“You can use it,” I say, matching that same half smile. “When you come visit. Or…” I offer a small shrug. “Whatever.”
“Whatever?”
“Whatever,” I echo.
“Okay,” he breathes, his ocean eyes bright. “I will use it forwhatever.”
At the third floor, the doors slide open and Rowan urges me out first.
I haven’t let him go since getting out of the car, and I don’t let him go as I pull my key from my pocket and push it into the top lock. The click of it unlocking makes my heart drop a few inches in my chest knowing that he might just go home. It’s been a long day, and I wouldn’t blame him.
I step in, toe off my shoes, and stand at the threshold with my hand still locked with his. “Ro?—”
“Go to bed, sweetheart.” He brings my hands, both gloved and ungloved, to his lips for a kiss on each. “It’s been a long day.”
I frown. “But?—”
Rowan’s kiss interrupts me, his hands cupping my face gently as his lips press softly into mine. “You fell asleep in the car, sweetheart. It’s okay.” One more soft as a feather kind of kiss. “I’ll let you know when I get home.”
“Please,” I rasp.
“Goodnight, Natalia.” His lips brush my forehead.
“Goodnight,” I breathe and he steps back from the door, pulling it closed with him.
Then I’m miserable, and I hate it. All I ever want to do is be with him, to spend time with him, even if it’s us on separate ends of the couch on New Years, watching a movie in silence.
Sasha, through therapy, has been helping me with asking for what I need. And damn it, I need Rowan tonight.
