“I am too. I really am.”And then he walks away.
Chapter Fourteen
Elijah
Rowan Alexander has revealed to this journalist that he is not taking part in any competitions in the foreseeable future. He will be focusing on his day-to-day work and his quality of life. We all wish him the best in his endeavors and hope to see more of his work soon.
My cursor blinks in sync with my heartbeat: slow and steady. Calm.
I’ve finally finished drafting the article that will cover Rowan’s win withCallie and Casey’sPhotography Outlet.I’ll spend the next week or so rewriting and polishing, so it should be on our website and in the papers by the middle of November.
John is sitting in his office, and with his door wide open, I can hear his phone call with the head of the activities committee for the town. They’re discussing when to release our finished article that covers the fall festival, which opens in two weeks.
I’m a bit distracted if I’m honest. My phone buzzes every few minutes, and I’m quick to snatch it up and devour whatever new message Rowan has sent me. I’ve been like this all week.
After he left my house on Monday night, we started texting pretty regularly. Never about anything serious—just small things like our favorite foods and activities we do in our spare time. But it’s beenreallynice.
There’s something calming yet exhilarating about talking with Rowan—whether it be over the phone or in person.
And now it’s Friday afternoon, and I’ve learned a handful of fun Rowan Avery Alexander facts. Like his interest in children’s cartoons, for example. He watches the same thing every evening before bed, and it’s almost always one of the few cartoons he binged as a child.
Or how he eats the cookiebeforereading his fortune when he gets Chinese takeout—otherwise the fortune falls flat.
Rowan is also a big soup guy. His favorite is baked potato soup, which I find kind of cute.
This just barely scratches the surface of the new things I’ve learned about Rowan, the mysterious photographer from just outside of town. Turns out, he’s not all that mysterious.
And these feelings—these overwhelming and intense emotions I can’t seem to escape—they’ve become a new normal for me, as well as the insatiable lust.
I find myself jerking off nightly to the memories of Rowan touching me, and honestly, I feel like a teenager. I’ve never been so horny. Or giddy.
I think I’d take this ache in my chest and wear it proudly every day if it meant keeping Rowan by my side. If this is what likingsomeone is, if this is what the beginnings oflovefeel like, I’ll fucking take it.
Happily.
My phone buzzes again, and I damn near shove my laptop off my desk to get to it.
Rowan 4:23 p.m.
If you had to pick one movie to watch for the rest of your life, what would you pick?
I try not to laugh at his question, shaking my head as I type my response. He’s interested in learning the weirdest things about me.
Elijah 4:24 p.m.
Probably The Titanic. Best horror movie ever made.
The message is instantly marked as read, and the three little dots appear. I don’t have to wait long for his response.
Rowan 4:24 p.m.
Horror movie? You’re joking, right?
Rowan 4:24 p.m.
I’m pretty sure that’s a romance.
Elijah 4:25 p.m.
