Walking across the square, I dodge a three-person yoga class and a young boy with his dog playing fetch. It seems like an odd thing to be doing at 7:30 in the morning, but who am I to judge?
I push open the door to our office, setting my coffee and my bag at my desk before heading to John’s office. He looks up from his paperwork when I walk in, smiling brightly at the brown bag in my hand.
“Ah! Muffins?” he asks, extending a hand. I open the bag, passing him one of the large blueberry treats.
“Yeah, Bennett said to tell you good morning.”
John makes an appreciative sound, setting his breakfast on top of a napkin on his desk.“A good man, that Bennett.”
I don’t say anything to this; instead, I begin diving into what Ireallycame in here to talk about.
“So, about Rowan Alexander,” I start, and John raises his brows, peering at me curiously as I take a seat. “As you know, I went to see him yesterday.”
“Yes,” he agrees, leaning back in his chair. “Sorry, I was gone by the time you returned. I went out to the elementary school to interview a few teachers for Teacher Appreciation Week. We’re doing a spread.”
I wave him off, clearing my throat before saying, “It’s fine. I went to see him, but he slammed the door in my face.”
John is quiet for a moment, staring at me with a blank expression. Then, as if a switch flips, he bursts out laughing.
“Really!? Dear lord, he wasn’t even that freaked out whenIwent out there a few months ago!” I try not to glare at him as he laughs at me, but I know I’ve failed when he stifles his next fit and clarifies: “I just mean that you must have rattled him. He’s aweird guy, and a lot of the locals don’t like him because of it. But he’s not mean.”
My brows furrow.“I didn’t say I thought he was mean. I’m actually going to head back over there this morning and see if I can’t get him to talk.”
“Really?” John asks, assessing me with a new expression. One I cannot decipher.
“Yeah. Is that fine?”
“Sure. I hope you’re able to break through to him. I think he could use a friend.”
Ignoring that last comment—I amnotfriend material—I nod my head and take my muffin to my desk.
After I devour the award-winning muffin, I gather my belongings and my notepad full of interview questions and prepare for the twenty-minute drive.
“I’m leaving,” I call to John, hiking my bag over my shoulder.
“Drive safe, Eli.”
The drive really isn’t that bad—in fact, it gives me time to prepare for the disappointment of feeling nothing when I look at the handsome stranger—or the pain of feelingeverything.
I’m not sure which scares me more.
And of course, no amount of preparing will matter if he doesn’t open the fucking door. But we shall see.
As I pull up to the house, I see his truck parked off to the side and take that as a good sign. At least he’s home.
I straighten out the white collar that is poking out from the top of my green sweater and make sure the material of myblack slacks is wrinkle-free. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Slow and steady.
Scaling the front steps of the porch, I knock on his door. I hear the sound of shuffling, of a door moving from inside the house—but no one answers. I deliver three more sharp knocks, tapping my foot against the wooden planks.This motherfucker.
Right as I’m on my third round of knocks, the second knock in, the door swings open—and I know instantly which outcome I fear more:the pain of feeling everything, or rather, the pain offeeling.
It crashes over me in waves, and I find myself struggling to breathe around each assault. I’m being ripped to shreds; I’m being bitten into and torn apart. Touched with cruel, gentle hands and brought to the brink of ecstasy with a single look. Dizzy against the feeling of it all, I find myself loving every second of this burn.
All I can smell is the overwhelming fragrance of something floral. Something sweet and light.
Rowan speaks first, which is probably for the best. I can’t seem to form a rational thought.
“Stop banging on my door. There is no Elijah here.” His voice is incredibly soothing—deep and rich. If I thought Bennett’s voice was nice, Rowan’s is like straight honey and sex—
