This had to be the third time he was calling me today. He called while I was on my way to school. He called during lunch,and now he was calling to make sure I had closed from school for the day.
Actually, he had been calling for a very long time now when I never replied to any of his texts. Then yesterday, I spontaneously replied to the text. I had no idea why I did that. I just did.
We talked for a while. He said he wanted to meet, to talk properly. And frankly speaking, I felt that was a good idea too. We needed to talk. That seemed to be the only way both of us could move on, get closure.
He asked when we could meet again. And I vaguely promised to meet him at the new coffee shop built opposite the old Fitz’s Lit and Brew. I forgot to cancel after Zaghan showed up earlier this morning. I actually forgot I had outstanding plans.
It was currently 3:05. This meant he was already there, waiting for me. But I obviously couldn’t see him now. Because here I was, with another man who was nothing like the prince charming Rowan McRae could have been to me.
The phone continued to ring away, and I could almost see his desperation in every vibration.
I snuck a peek at Zaghan again. He was by the little bar in the living room, pouring whiskey into a glass.
I still had time.
I would just tell him I cancelled. It would be horrible to leave him just sitting there and waiting. I would just reschedule.
“Hey,” I whispered hesitantly into the speaker when I was successfully out of earshot.
“Oh, hey.” The excitement in his voice crushed me. My eyes snapped shut as guilt washed over me.
“You are at the shop, aren’t you?” I asked, biting my lower lip nervously, kicking at invisible pebbles.
“Yeah.” His reply deflated me. “Been here for about fifteen minutes.” Then he let’s out a chuckle.
“Shit,” I cussed under my breath.
“Is there a problem?” he inquired, disappointment already registering in his voice.
“Yeah…” I trailed off, my gaze staring into the distance. “Rowan look, I don’t think I can make it.”
“Oh.”
“I’m so sorry.” My apology could definitely not expel what he was feeling, but that was all I got for now. “Something urgent came up.”
“Oh,” he whispered, disappointed.
“Yeah, sorry.”
“Is everything okay, though?” he asked, his voice calm, concerned.
“Yeah, yeah.” I scratched the back of my neck, bouncing on my heels. “Everything is uh, it’s good.”
“I see.” He sounded wistful.
“Maybe tomorrow, same time?” I offered. I actually did want to see him. I really needed to clear the air at this point. Tell him to move on or something.
Actually, I wasn’t sure what I wanted. If investing my emotions in Callan who had gone missing in action, and his psycho brother, who had clearly taken hold of his body, was a bad bargain, I needed a safety net. And I didn’t see any candidate better than Rowan.
“Tomorrow sounds fine,” he murmured, voice bright again.
“Cool.”
“So, see you tomorrow then?” He sounded really hopeful.
“Yes, definitely.”
“Okay, bye, um…” he trailed off, hesitating, as if the next word that sat on his tongue was a bomb he wasn’t sure if he should throw. “Love you.”
