The significance of that wasn't lost on me. Rowan hadn't willingly stepped out of the flat since Marcus beat the hell out of him. I'd gotten so used to him hunkering down here that I wasn't sure he'deverbe able to make himself get out again.
I nodded quickly before he could change his mind. "Yeah. Yeah, of course. If you want to, I'm in."
He gave a small nod and turned back to the sink to finish with his dishes. I watched him in silence, still a little stunned at what just happened. I didn't want to jinx anything by questioning it. But if this was a step forward for him, then I'd take it.
* **
We stepped back into the flat, the door clicking softly behind us. I reached out to flick on the lamp near the entry, and it cast a warm glow across the sitting room as I shrugged off my coat. "Well. No falling icicles, no aggressive carollers. I'd call that a successful outing."
Rowan gave a quiet huff of amusement as he pulled off his gloves. "The inflatable Santa with the glowing red eyes was a bit much."
"Nah. That's just someone who isn't over Halloween yet."
That one almost got a laugh out of him. His attention drifted as he stuffed his gloves in his pockets, but after a pause, he said quietly, "Thanks for coming out with me tonight."
I glanced over at him. "Please. I'm just the bodyguard. You're the one who actually got yourself out the door."
His movements slowed, and he sent a sidelong glance in my direction but wouldn't quite make eye contact. "You're more than that."
I didn't know what to do with that. It didn't feel loaded, just honest. But before I could figure out what to say, I noticed him rubbing his fingers together. Without thinking, I stepped closer and caught one of his hands gently in mine.
The cold that met my skin made me flinch. "Christ, Rowan, your fingers are freezing. You need better gloves."
He gave a small, tired shrug.
I gave his hand a quick squeeze before letting go. "I'll get some tea going. See if we can get some feeling back in those icicles."
He murmured something in agreement and finished pulling off his coat while I stepped into the kitchen and flipped on the overhead light. It buzzed faintly to life as I moved to fill the kettle and grab the mugs.
My thoughts circled back to the walk as I heated the water. I'd been braced for Rowan to change his mind halfwaythrough or stiffen up whenever a car drove past. But he didn't. He stayed close, sometimes close enough that he bumped into me while we wandered, but he never froze up. Never panicked. He was watchful, for sure, but not in that hunted, shrinking way I'd gotten used to seeing.
More than that, he seemed relatively okay. He even made comments about a few of the displays. Tonight, for the first time in a long while, we were that version of us again. Older, sure, and definitely more scarred. But it was clear now that the old Rowan was starting to peek through a bit more.
I flinched in surprise when I felt something wrap lightly around my waist. It was gentle, tentative, but steady. Arms sliding around me from behind. I looked down and saw familiar hands, and then I felt the press of Rowan's chest against my back. The warmth of him seeped through my shirt as he pressed his face lightly into my shoulder.
My heart tripped over itself.
He didn't speak for a moment. I didn't move, either. I didn't want to startle him or give him a reason to second-guess whatever had just prompted this.
Then I heard a whisper, barely loud enough to hear. "I'm glad you're here, Eli."
That did me in. Just five little words, but they nearly knocked all the air from my chest. I reached down and covered one of his hands with mine, lacing our fingers together where they rested along my side. "I'm not going anywhere," I promised quietly.
We stood in silence for a while, anchored together in the soft amber glow of the kitchen light. After a minute or two, though, I turned gently in his arms to face him.
I expected him to pull away. Instead, he stepped in closer.
I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him into a proper hug. He buried himself against me and let out a quietsigh as he melted into the contact. No hesitation. No flinching. I let him have the space to stay there as long as he needed.
Even though we'd just gotten back from an hour-long walk in the cold, his body felt warm. Solid. And more importantly, relaxed. Actually, I wasn't sure I'd ever seen him this relaxed. Even before Marcus.
He finally stirred after a few minutes. Just a slight tilt of his head, the faintest change in his posture. I barely noticed at first until his breath ghosted against my collar.
He looked up, and his eyes met mine. There was something behind them – uncertainty, maybe, or hesitation. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, but I didn't ask, either. He hadn't been this calm in a long time, and I didn't want to interrupt it.
Then he leaned in.
It was so faint that I almost thought I imagined it. A soft brush of his lips at the corner of my mouth, right near the spot where Marcus punched me. The touch was featherlight, just enough to make my breath catch. My chest tightened with the surprise of it.
