His expression softens. “Now do you believe me when I say celibacy is easier?”
I sigh and offer him a rueful smile, but I’m interrupted by Tenley’s loud throat clearing before I can say anything else.
“I guess you two aren’t strangers after all,” she says with a hint of sarcasm, and I look around to find the other couples watching us closely.
Rowan apologizes on our behalf and promises we’ll be good students from now on, and Tenley starts the lesson, though she seems entirely too amused for my liking.
I do my best to pay attention to her descriptions of cervical positions and basal body temperature rises, but I’m admittedly distracted by my table mate’s presence. My eyes drift to the side each time Tenley pauses to ask for Rowan’s input and he enthusiastically chimes in with some connection between progesterone levels and breast tenderness, and it’s ironically sexy when he defers to Tenley’s expertise instead of trying to mansplain everything himself. In fact, the way his eyes crinkle as he processes each bit of new information is downright adorable, and I’m starting to understand what Tenley meant about ovulation symptoms as I watch him nod his head in agreement and jot down notes in his workbook.
I might have thought bad boys were my thing up until now, but I’ll be damned if Rowan isn’t proving to be more dangerous than any morally gray man I’ve ever met. Am I really melting over a thirty-three-year-old virgin who wears a scapular necklace and walks around with a rosary in his pocket?
Yes, yes I am.
Tenley mentions something about deciphering between arousal fluid and cervical mucus, making Rowan’s neck turn red, and I let out an involuntary whimper at the thought of pressing my lips to his flushed skin.
“You okay?” he asks, turning to face me with concern.
My eyelashes flutter as I attempt to get my shit together. “Um, yeah, fine.”
Then he leans in and smirks as he whispers, “I didn’t think you’d gethonteover this kind of stuff, but it’s cute.”
Gah, what is it about Rowan calling me cute that makes me want to believe him?
“Whatever. You’re the one blushing every time she says the word ‘intercourse,’ ” I argue, bumping his shoulder with mine.
“Not every time,” he maintains before adding, “And it’s only because you’re around.”
One of my loud cackles escapes before I can cover my mouth with both of my hands, and he snorts out a laugh of his own. Tenley shoots us a warning glare that looks suspiciously like an experienced teacher-look, silencing Rowan and I for a second. But we return to nudging one another and stifling our giggles as she introduces our first charting activity.
“What are we supposed to be doing now?” I whisper once Tenley walks away.
Rowan bites back another dimpled smile and shrugs. “I don’t know. I missed most of the instructions becausesomeonewas distracting me.”
“Me, distracting you?” I retort, and he shushes me. “You were the one flirting with me,” I add more quietly.
His brow lifts in outrage before his expression softens. “Okay, yeah. I did call you cute first, didn’t I?”
“Why are you even taking this class, anyway?” I ask, ignoring the urge to twirl the end of my braid around my finger.
He looks down, as if he was already busy skimmingthe directions in the book. “It’s for work. They don’t teach this stuff in medical school, believe it or not,” he replies.
“But you’re a MFM specialist. Why would you need to know about natural family planning if you’re only tending to the babies that have already been made?”
“Maybe I’m hoping I’ll need the information for personal reasons one day,” he mumbles without meeting my eyes again.
“And you really didn’t know I was going to be here?”
“No,” he says on an exhale. “But I probably should have assumed Tenley had an ulterior motive when she practically begged me to come to this class in particular.”
“Oh.” I can’t help sounding more disappointed than I’d like to let on.
He finally glances up. “Why are you here?”
The question catches me off guard. “Your sister’s been on me to start tracking my symptoms, because she thinks it’ll make it easier to manage my horrible periods once I understand what’s going on with my body. And another doctor once said I could use fertility awareness charting to find the cause of my … issues,” I tell him, fumbling through my answer.
I watch his throat bob as he swallows hard. “But I thought you weren’t interested in getting married again?”
“Maybe you didn’t learn this in medical school, either, but you don’t have to be married to make a baby,” I tell him.
