Shoving his expression of shock and hurt aside, I harden my resolve. Twelve-year-old me would’ve done anything for him. Even eighteen-year-old me would’ve probably jumped in head first.
Rowan sighs as he gently leads me out of the restaurant, his warm hand at the small of my back. My muscles flex at his touch, and I pick up my pace so I’m a step ahead.
He doesn’t say anything else until we’ve pulled out of the parking lot.
Once we’re on the road, the silence in the car is suffocating. I can feel his gaze flicking over to me every few seconds, but I keep my eyes fixed on the scenery outside the window.
“That was a bit harsh, don’t you think?” he finally says, his voice quiet.
“Was it?” I turn to face him, studying his profile as he drives. The strong line of his goddamn, sexy jaw, the slight furrow between his brows. “I was just being honest.”
His hands tense, twisting on the steering wheel. “Look, I get it. I hurt you. More than once. But I’m trying here, Iz.”
“Trying to use me to save your career, you mean.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it?” I cross my arms over my chest. “You show up after all these years, kiss the shit outta me, and then drop this fake dating bombshell. What am I supposed to think?”
He pulls the car over to the side of the road so abruptly that I have to brace myself against the dashboard. When he shifts in his seat to face me, his eyes are blazing.
“You think I planned this? That I engineered some elaborate scheme just to mess with your head?” His voice rises with each word. “Jesus, Lizzy. I’ve been carrying you around with me for fifteen fucking years! Everything I’ve done?—”
He shakes his head as if to clear it. “You’re not just some convenient solution to my PR problem. You’re the only person I’ve ever—” He cuts himself off again, dragging a hand down his face.
My heart jack hammers against my ribs. “I’m the only person you’ve ever what?” I whisper.
“Nothing.” He turns away, staring straight ahead. “Forget it.”
We both fall silent again, the only sound in the confines of the car is our slightly elevated breathing. I search his profile, the way his chest rises and falls, the muscle ticking in his jaw.
“Why me?” I finally ask, my voice softer than I intended. “Out of all the women you could’ve asked, why did it have to be me?”
Rowan turns back to me, his expression raw and unguarded. It’s a look I haven’t seen since we were teenagers. “Because despite what you think, you do know me. And I trust you.”
I look away, unable to hold his gaze any longer. Myemotions are a tangled mess—anger, confusion, longing, fear—all competing for dominance.
When he pulls back out onto the road, I rest my head against the back of the seat and close my eyes.
The drive takes about fifteen minutes with traffic, and it gives me some time to think. When he pulls in and parks next to my Jeep in the school’s parking lot to drop me off, I hesitate with my hand on the door.
“Trivia night at The Brew.”
Rowan’s answer is a gruff, “What?”
“This Friday is Trivia Night at The Brew. It could be our next sighting together. Logan and most of my friends will be there.”
Rowan’s eyes light up, and for a moment, I see the boy I once knew—eager, hopeful, genuinely happy. It makes something flutter in my chest that I quickly try to squash.
“Yeah? That would be great,” he says, his voice softening. “I’d like that.”
“Don’t get too excited,” I warn, pushing open the door. “This doesn’t mean I’m saying yes to the whole fake dating thing. I’m still thinking about it.”
“Of course,” he nods, but that damn smile is still there, making the corners of his eyes crinkle in a way that’s entirely too appealing.
I roll my eyes, unable to hide my twitch of a smile. “Right. See you Friday, Hollywood.”
As I climb out and slam the door behind me, I can feel his eyes on me. Keeping my focus on fishing my keys out of my bag, I make my way to my Jeep. Only once I’m safely inside do I allow myself to glance in his direction. Still watching me, he has one arm draped casually over the steering wheel.
