“They delivered the clothes earlier. They’re in the bag over there,” I say and point to where I left the bag by the coat closet.
He mumbles a “thanks” and gathers the bag to return to the room. I bite my tongue to keep from suggesting he could just change here, out in the open—and in front of me—so I can find out if that smattering of red hair peeking through the robe extended all the way down his chest and more.
The hair on his arms and legs is blond and is just a shade lighter than his tan skin, but the little peek of chest hair I saw is the same ginger as the hair on his head. I need to know if the rest of his body is the same too.
So you see, getting him naked is all for science!
I need to consult with Ray on how likely that statement would scare Rowan into quitting. He always tells me it’s safer if I keep my mouth shut, and when it’s work events, I’m really good at that, but it’s hard around people I’m comfortable with. And Rowan makes me feel comfortable.
Probably a little too comfortable, if I’m being honest.
He makes me feel just as cozy as Rowan looks when he returns to the living room in his new PJs. I can’t hold back my snort at seeing the black shirt stretched across his chest, the sleeves stopping at his mid forearms. The PJ bottoms look like they fit well, besides the fact that they stop mid-calf.
I requested the largest clothes they could find, and they still fit him like clothes that have shrunk in the dryer.
“I’m actually surprised they found something that fit on such short notice, and they’re really soft too,” he says and rubs his hands over his flat stomach. It only stretches thefabric even more and pulls the bottom to confirm that…yep, the hair on his stomach is the same color as that on his chest.
That instantly stops my laughter, because now I’m focused on the trail of hair that leads down into his pants and…
I jolt when my phone dings, but I quickly grab hold of it to hide how flustered I am.
“Food’s downstairs,” I squeak out and hop to my feet.
“Sit, I’ll get it,” Rowan says and uses those damn long legs of his to grab the key fob I hung by the entrance and disappear into the elevator before I even have a chance to protest.
I flop back on the couch, hug a pillow over my face, and scream into it. I’m certain now: there’s definitely something wrong with me from the way I’m lusting after this man.
I spent years of my life not needing anyone but my hand, and one look from Rowan is making me act like a cat in heat. Not just that, it’s the affection he pulls from me that’s growing larger than I want to admit.
There’s definitely something wrong here. Ray’s voice in my head tells me I’m too trusting and to think about the last guy I almost fell for.
The warning bells are loud, yet when Rowan’s face appears behind my eyelids, it’s music that rings in my ears instead.
9
Rowan
Milo is strangely quiet and distracted throughout dinner. He looks happy enough, munching on his plate loaded with half of each main, but it’s the lack of conversation that gives me pause.
I haven’t known Milo long, but I bet it’s rare for him to be quiet for this long. He himself said that he’s a chatterbox!
Thinking that I’ve done something to piss him off, I offer to head home after all, but he insists once again that I stay. He clearly wants me there, but it’s like he’s lost in his own world as well.
We don’t linger after dinner and quickly say our goodnights. Milo is still in a daze and is quick to run upstairs.
It isn’t until I’m in bed in the guest room that I hear the soft keys of the piano. The music sounds somber and heavy, and it swiftly pulls me into sleep.
The music is still playing when I wake. Soft lights stream in through the blinds; the light is as soft as the song that’s playing.
It’s the same melody I heard last night, but it’s no longer filled with melancholy. It’s completely changed into an upbeat tone, cheerful, with a sense of hope.
I lie in bed for a couple minutes, enjoying the music, letting it sink into my bones, and I’m surprised by justhowgood it is. There’s something whimsical about it, and maybe it’s the vibrations of the bass or whatever they use to make music, but I find myself relaxing into the mattress. A few minutes later, I realize it’s playing in a loop after the same bridge repeated for the third time.
The loop is confirmed when it’s still playing after I wash up and walk out to the living room in the tiny PJs Milo got me last night. I hadn’t been lying when I said they were comfortable, but not enoughnotto feel like I was being restricted while I slept, so I’d just slept in my underwear instead.
The living room looks the same as we’d left it last night, save for a bag sitting on the kitchen island with a folded note that has my name on it.
I unfold the note and find scribbles that say:told them to go to the big-and-tall store. ;)
