I run my tongue over my teeth and take three steps forward. I sigh and cross my arms again. “I’m here.”
His eyes pinch and he shakes his head, slightly amused. “Closer.”
I feign a frustrated sigh and take a step.
“Closer.”
Another sigh and another step.
“Closer, sweetheart,” he says, frowning. “I need more.”
Two steps and I’m tilting my head back just to meet his eyes and my chest is almost pressed against his.
“Tell me you need me, Natalia,” Rowan whispers, his hands lightly skimming my hips before they rest at my waist gently. “Tell me you want me as much as I want you.”
“Are you sure you aren’t drunk?”
“I’m sure,” he says. “Just…emboldened.”
“Emboldened,” I echo with a huff. “By?”
“You,” he says. “I’ve come to learn that you make me feel brave. Confident.Okay.”
“Don’t say things like that.”
“I only say things I mean.”
I squint at the beautiful man before me. “Are you sure you aren’t drunk?”
“I’m very sure.” He brings his pointer finger to his nose. “See. Sober.”
I snort, rolling my eyes. “Wow. So sober.”
He laughs and it’s one of those sounds that pull sunflowers in his direction. The kind of sound that tells the waves about their tides and tells the sun when and where to shine and if the rain should pour or not. It’s the kind of sound that makes me wonder if everything else just orbits around him.
“Extremely sober.” Rowan gives me a playful pout and holds up his pinky. “I promise.”
I can feel a smile dancing on my lips, trying to break free even as I try my hardest to hold it back. I bring up my pinky and hook it with his. “Fine.”
“Sober or drunk, dead or alive, you’re still the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”
I bite the inside of my lip. My body reacts regardless of my efforts and my face and neck overheat. “Rowan…” I chuckle quietly. “You don’t…”
“I hope one day you’ll learn that everything I say to you, Imean. Every compliment, every look,” he rasps. “And I hope one day, you see yourself the way I see you because if you did…there’s no doubt you would be in love with yourself. You’d understand everything I say.”
My skin feels too tight around my bones and my heart doesn’t fit in my ribcage anymore. I might just be his, and it’s…terrifying.
I wish I could say I don’t want to be. I wish I could say I hated the way he makes me feel—how human I am with him. But I don’t think I’ll ever be able to say any of that.
“Do you mean it when you say you hate me?” Rowan asks quietly. “Or is that a lie too?”
“I don’t lie to you.”
“Yes you do,” he says. “Whenever you tell me you’re fine or okay even when your eyes tell me you’re not. You lie to me. I hate when you lie to me.”
“I hate?—”
“You don’t.”
