“I’ll take you.” He takes a bite out of his bacon cheese burger. “On a Saturday?”
“Rowan, it’s okay.” I breathe, my throat tightening with a slight burn.
Rowan chews and swallows quickly, wiping his mouth again. “Give me your phone.”
“Why?” I hold it protectively to my chest, eyebrow arched.
He reaches out his hand across the table. “Just trust me.”
I eye him suspiciously, even though I trust this man with my entire life. His eyes hold mine, conveying the words,You can trust me. So I set my phone down in his palm and blink the words,I do.
“Passcode?”
“No—”
“Never mind.” He turns the phone and it promptly unlocks after scanning my face. I gape at his slick move while his thumbs move over the screen, searching for whatever it is he wants. “Come here.”
“Why?”
“Natalia,” he says softly, and I crack each of my fingers with my thumb.
“What?” I barely say.
“Come here,” he says again, just as tenderly as before.
I comply with an overly dramatic sigh, standing from my chair and moving over to his side. “What?”
His hand comes to my hip, the touch soft and light. “Take a picture with me.”
“For what?”
“To send to your dads.”
“But—”
“Sit here,” he says and looks down at his lap, then back to me. “If you want to.”
My body heats. “If I want to?”
“Only if you want to, Natalia.”
And even though it feels like a test—likeif you wantis more like,if you want to be loved by me—I slide across on his lap anyway, feeling flutters in my stomach as his arm comes around my waist. This is so close, maybe too close. It’s overly intimate but I don’t think there’s anything this could beotherthan intimate anymore.
Rowan holds up my phone and says, “Smile.”
I don’t, but his lips press hard against my cheek as the phone snaps our picture. His lips linger, soft and tender, and he leaves a small, quiet kiss before he redirects his attention to the device in his hand.
He may have taken advantage of the moment, but I am not one to talk, sitting comfortably across his lap.
“Do you think it’s cute?” Rowan asks, angling the screen toward me.
He’s kissing my cheek with an obvious smile behind his puckered lips, and my face is stern and grumpy. I think it’s my new favorite photo.
“It’s fine.”I love it.
“I like it,” he says, smiling at the screen. The first thing he does is send it to my dads in our group chat.
“What are you doing?”
