But as we walk back to his truck, my hand tuckedinto his, I wonder if I said yes because I genuinelywantto see him again.
Or because I’m trying to erase Hayden’s kiss from my mind and body.
But I have a feeling I could kiss a thousand men under a thousand snowflakes, and I still wouldn’t be able to forget the way Hayden Lawrence kissed me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
HAYDEN
The house isdark except for the lamp in the corner of the living room, the amber glow reflecting off my glass as I take another large swallow of scotch.
I should have gone to bed hours ago, but I wanted to enjoy a quiet house.
At least that’s what I told myself at ten. Then again at eleven.
Now it’s after midnight, and there’s only one reason I’m still awake.
And it’s not to enjoy a quiet house.
It’s because Rowan still isn’t home from herdatewith Joshua. She left with him hours ago. How long do dates last these days? I wouldn’t even know. It’s been over twenty years since I’ve been on one.
I consider calling her to make sure she’s okay. But what if I interrupt something?
The image comes uninvited. His hands on her body. Her legs wrapped around his waist. His mouth pressed against hers.
My jaw tightens, and I jump to my feet, storming into the kitchen and pouring another scotch. The liquor coats my stomach, dulling the edge of jealousy, but not killing it.
Headlights suddenly flash through the window, and my body reacts before my brain does, propelling me back into the living room. I peek through the blinds but stay just out of view, pressing myself against the wall like some kind of stalker.
Joshua steps out first, hurrying around the truck in order to open Rowan’s door for her, offering his hand like the perfect fucking gentleman.
This would be easier if he were an asshole.
But Joshua’s always been a good guy. Left college during his first year to come home and take care of his mom after she was diagnosed with cancer. That still doesn’t stop the red-hot jealousy from shooting through me.
As they get closer, I notice Rowan glance toward the house.
Toward this window.
I shift back instinctively, as if she somehow knows I’m watching her.
Which is ridiculous. It’s dark. She can’t see me.
Instead of heading for the front door, she steers him toward her separate entrance. I gave her the code so she could come and go without feeling like she lived under my roof.
I regret it now. Because now I can’t see or hear a damn thing.
All I can do is wait.
And wait.
And wait.
How long does it take to say goodnight? It shouldn’t take this long.
Unless…
I squeeze my eyes shut, praying she doesn’t invite him inside.
