I’m overwhelmed.
So overwhelmed.
I have no idea what the right thing to do is! I just want to do the right thing.
A knock sounds at the door.
“Mirabelle?” Rowan calls out, from behind the door. “You alright in there?”
“I—I’m sorry, should I finish now?”
“What? No, it’s barely been five minutes. Take as much time as you need. I just heard a sound. Is everything okay?”
“I—I—“ I swallow hard and clear my throat, trying to collect my thoughts.
He said take as much time as I need. From him, I don’t think it’s a trick. Rowan doesn’t seem like the type to try and get me to slip up so he can punish me.
“Can I use your soap?” I ask timidly.
“Shit, I can’t hear you,” he grumbles from behind the door.
The door cracks open, but I don’t hear him enter the bathroom.
“What was that?” He asks.
I peek past the shower curtain, my hair probably plastered to my skull, making me look like a drowned rat.
His gaze is turned away from the shower and locked to the floor. I blink at him in surprise. He’s tryingto be respectful.
“Oh, I was just asking if it would be okay for me to use some of your soap?”
“Go for it,” he nods, glancing up at my face. His lips quirk up into a barely there grin as he sees me, bundled up behind the shower curtain with only my head popping out.
That single quirk of his lips makes me want desperately to see him smile more. I’m sure it would completely transform his face.
“What’s mine is yours here,” he continues. “That goes for outside the bathroom, too, okay?”
“Okay. Thank you, Rowan,” I say, repeating his name, because he really seemed to like it the last time I said it.
“Of course,” he murmurs. “I’ll let you finish your shower. I’ll be right outside if you need me, ‘kay?”
I give him a jerky nod before he shuts the door.
My arms wrap around my middle, but instead of trying to calm the heavy, anxious dread, I’m holding in butterflies. What is going on inside my head?
I should be terrified. Horrified at the new circumstances I’ve found myself in. But no. I’m giddy.
Because of Rowan. His sheepishness. His kindness. His consideration. It’s like I’ve discovered something magical, and I don’t want to let it go.
CHAPTER 4
Rowan
Iseriously wish Mirabelle wasn’t in the shower right now. Because I think I need a cold one as soon as fucking possible.
She’s so sickeningly sweet it could cause a toothache for coldhearted bastards like my brother. When Jett sees someone like Mirabelle, a pretty young thing who screams softness, all he wants to do is break them.
I see her light, and I’m mesmerized. Like a moth to a flame, caught in her orbit.
