“Okay.”
“Okay?” He repeated, slowly putting his hands down.
“Can I go get it? Or…. or you can. I’ll stay right here in this spot if you know where it’s at.”
He waited, actually waiting for me to nod before he even shifted a single leg.
“I…I can get it. I…. I cleaned up there. For Evy.”
As the name slipped out, Rowan’s eyes widened.
Before he could say anything, ask anything, I slipped from the couch, leaving the notebook on the couch cushions.
I went the long way around, all the way around the edge of the living room to keep enough space between this man and myself. I didn’t think he’d hurt me. If so, Evander wouldn’t be happy, but it was going to take some time for me to trust any male besides Evy for a long time.
In the laundry room, I found the exact tool case.
Moments later, I set the blue box on the coffee table, right on the edge close to Rowan, before retreating to my spot again and pulling my knees to my chest.
Rowan moves slowly. One step. Then another. Each one deliberate, measured, like he was approaching a skittish animal he didn’t want to spook. His eyes never left me, not in a staring way, but in a checking in sort of way. Making sure I was okay. Making sure he wasn’t pushing too far.
He didn’t reach for the kit until he was close enough that he didn’t have to lean or stretch. Even then, he paused, giving me a second to brace before he picked it up.
When he straightened, he hesitated. He shifted the tool kit with one hand and lifted the other slightly.
“Do I get to know who my brother is keeping in his home?”
The question wasn’t rude or demanding. Just a simple question. One that I didn’t have to answer, if I didn’t want to.
“K-Kasey.”
“Follow up question, more for my sanity than anything else. Did Evander tell you that was your name, or…” He rubbed the back of his neck like he already regretted asking.
He trailed off, giving me space to answer, or not to answer. His brows pulled together in worry.
“It’s my name.”
Rowan nodded slowly at my answer, like he was filing it away somewhere important. But then something flickered across his face.
His gaze dipped to the floor, then to the way I curled in on myself, then back to my face, studying me with a new kind of focus.
His breath caught just enough that I heard it. His eyes widened just a fraction before he forced them back to normal, smoothing his expression like he didn’t want me to notice.
“Kasey.” He repeated my name softer this time.
His jaw tightened for a second; a muscle jumped near his temp, and he looked away. Like he needed a breath before, he said something he couldn’t take back.
When he looked at me again, his voice was careful in a new way, edged with disbelief he was trying to hide.
“What did my dear ol’ brother do now?” He muttered under his breath. “Good gosh. Mom’s gonna have a heart attack.” Louder, “How long have you been here?”
I shrugged. “A little while.”
I couldn’t really answer, since days always seemed to blur together. There were good ones, then there were bad ones.
Rowan blinked. Once. Twice. His grip on the kit tightened, knuckles whitening for a second before he forced his hand to relax.
“A few days,” he repeated, almost hollow.
