She doesn't have to pry. I spend the rest of the evening telling her all about Rowan and how cute I think he is. Sheohhhhsandahhhhsin all the right places and doesn't make me feel too bad about my Vanna White moments.
It's one of the best nights I've ever had, and I don't regret having boy talk with my mom for one moment.
These are the types of conversations that, for a long time, I thought I would never get to have.
And I'll never take them for granted.
Chapter Four
Rowan
The plastic crinkles under my hand as I suck up the last drop of water from the bottle. Before I can even set it down, another bottle appears. This time she sets it down next to me on the bench before sitting herself.
I smirk as I pick up the water bottle and say,“We’vegot to stop meeting like this.”
“I think you might be averse to bringing your own water bottles.”
I turn to my left and find her studying me. Her eyes wander over my body but not in a perverse way. More like I’m a puzzle she doesn’t have all the pieces to yet. “No, just averse to bringing more than one.”
“Does that make you shortsighted or a daredevil?” she asks, seriously.
She may be the most blunt person I’ve ever met. But I don’t hate it. There’s something refreshing about a complete stranger not bullshitting with you. “Daredevil for sure.”
“Hmmm, I could see that. You’ve got a certain kind of vibe to you.”
“What kind of vibe is that?” I ask, now more curious than ever. I’m fully invested in this conversation because it’s the most fun I’ve had all week, and we’ve only been talking for two minutes.
Her pouty lips pucker as she tilts her head to the side. “Like you would have no problem taking a girl on the back of a motorcycle and showing her a good time.”
My mind immediately goes to a different kind of“taking”. One I’m sure she didn’t mean to imply by the way she innocently studies me, but I can’t help but have a little fun of my own with her.
“Hard or soft?”
Her eyes crinkle in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“The ride? Would you like it hard or soft?”
“Don’t you mean, smooth or bumpy?”
I smirk as I lean toward her, making sure to hold her eyes the entire way. I see her cheeks flush at my proximity, and that only eggs me on further. I run my tongue across my top lip and watch as her eyes dilate at the small gesture. I drop my voice down an octave. “Slow or fast?” I ask another question instead of answering hers.
I watch her swallow; my eyes follow the long, slender column of her throat, up past her chin,andsnag on her plump lips. Now it’s her turn to lick her lips; the movement has my heart speeding up, excitement that I haven’t felt in a long-ass time courses through my veins. I’m completely captivated by this almost-stranger who has pretty honey-brown eyes and lips that I suddenly seem to want to kiss.
“Are we still talking about the ride?”
I nod and ask, “Have you ever been on a motorcycle?”
She shakes her head, then answers, “No.”
I suddenly pull back, breaking whatever spell she seems to have put me under. “Me either.”
She throws her head back and laughs. Jealousy flares to life in my chest just watching as she gives herself over to the emotion completely. I used to be able to do that.
“You almost had me there. I thought you meant—oh, never mind. It doesn’t matter.”
“You can say it. I won’t judge, and maybe I meant exactly what you thought I did.”
She squirms a little, then reaches up and touches her cheeks with her hands. “Why are my cheeks so hot?”
