Her eyes widened. “Oh. I was just making conversation.”
“Well, make conversation with someone who actually cares to hear your stupid, insignificant, childish shit.”
My number was called. Finally. I smiled wide at the barista as I stepped forward and grabbed my cup holder. I brushed past Camryn and walked out of there reeling. Thankfully, I made it back to my building without shaking too hard and dropping the juices. When I got inside the apartment, Rowan had changed into jeans and a polo and was on the floor with Miles building a smaller telescope Dad had sent him for Christmas and I still hadn’t gotten around to building. I set the cup holder down, handed them their juices, giving Miles a quick kiss in the process, and picked mine up. Rowan’s eyes were on me the entire time. I didn’t need to look directly at his face to know that. Because I felt them with every step I took, even as I went over to the refrigerator to hide my face in it and hopefully cool off.
“Let’s finish this in a bit,” Rowan said. “Why don’t you go grab those rockets you wanted to show me?”
Miles ran off, juice in hand, and Rowan came up to me. I tried busying myself with the contents of the refrigerator.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Your hair looks beautiful.” He pulled a curl and wrapped it around his finger.
“Thanks.”
He stepped behind me, wrapping an arm around my middle, and buried his face into my neck. I inhaled sharply, closing my eyes.
“Smells good too.”
“Thanks.” My voice sounded breathy. I needed him to get out of my space. “Rowan.”
“I know. Let you go, get out of your space, don’t kiss you, just be cordial for the sake of the son we share together,” he murmured against me. “I’m trying, but it’s so damn hard.”
I let myself revel in that. It was so damn hard.
Then the memory of seeing Camryn came rushing back, and it stopped being so damn hard. I opened my eyes and moved my shoulders, forcing him to take a step back.
“I need to make sure everything’s ready for Miles.”
With that, I left the kitchen.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Rowan
She was being distant. I couldn’t figure out what I’d done or said, but there had to have been something. Before she left the house, she’d looked happy. She said goodbye to Miles, received a lecture from both her mother and Joan, and as soon as the door closed behind us, she started treating me like a stranger. The cab ride was silent and when we got onto the plane, she picked up that stupid US Weekly magazine and hadn’t so much as looked in my direction. I wanted to rip it from her hands and make her say more than just a few words to me.
“Why are you mad?”
“Who says I’m mad?” She turned the page, folded the magazine over, and lifted her feet under her, pointing her knees in the other direction.
“I know you’re mad.”
She glanced up at me briefly. “I’m not mad, I’m compartmentalizing.”
I wanted to call bullshit, but I’d said those words to her in the past. They weren’t a lie. I’d learned at a young age to compartmentalize things. It was the only way not to get caught up in my own turmoil about things going on at home. These last few years had taught me a lot and one of those lessons was that I needed to let others know how I felt. Seeing my brother go through his treatments and not knowing whether or not they’d work had taught me that. I decided to stay quiet. I didn’t want to get into an argument on an airplane. I barely had room to move, let alone toss all of my emotions out there.
The minute we stepped outside of the airport and were hit with a wave of humidity, we started peeling off layers. I knew it would be hot, but damn.
“It’s like a furnace.” She picked up her hair and wound it into a bun.
“Can’t argue there. We should take our things to the hotel and go get something to eat. I’m starving.”
“Me too.”
I rented us a car, plugged the hotel address into the GPS, and we set off toward the beach.
“We’re meeting with Natasha, the owner of Medellin Fabrics, tomorrow,” I said. “It’s in an area called Doral. I should probably map that tonight so we don’t waste too much time in the morning.”
“That’s fine.”
I glanced over at her. She was looking out the window, staring into the bumper-to-bumper traffic, clearly holding a grudge over something she couldn’t even address directly.
“Last time I was here I was in college,” she said after a quiet moment. “Came with a group of friends. I would recommend places I visited, but I was drunk the whole time and don’t actually remember the name of any of them.”
“Sounds like a fun trip.”
“So much fun.”
I kept my eyes fixed on the city as we made our way to Miami Beach, which took over an hour instead of the thirty minutes the GPS had first quoted. Tessa called Miles and spoke to him for a while as we sat in traffic, telling him to behave and be good, and that she missed him. I wished I could reach over and take the phone and tell him I missed him and would see him soon as well. More than anything, I wished he’d actually say all those things to me the way he said them to her. One day at a time, I reminded myself. I couldn’t expect to make huge strides just in one day of babysitting. Maybe I could take him to the Yankees season opener or a Giants game when football season started. I wondered if he’d like hockey. I had to ask Tessa about the sports he participated in. Was he any good? Did she need me to take him for her? I’d go anyway. I’d go to every single thing I’d missed out on thus far.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Tessa
Miami was hot. That was what I was chalking up this sudden warmth curling inside of me to as I watched a shirtless Rowan pace our hotel suite. He’d been on the phone for thirty minutes, talking to someone back in New York, and while I would have loved to say I was just being nosey, listening in on his conversation, the truth was that I couldn’t stop staring. He’d mentioned he hadn’t been going up state as often as he’d liked, therefore, not rowing, but his body was insane. Maybe it was an athlete thing. Maybe their bodies just stayed intact while the rest of us went to shit if we didn’t work out twenty-four-seven, which . . . who had time for that? But damn, the way the planes of his back stretched and his stomach remained flat and cut, and his arms . . . and his broad shoulders . . . and just everything. I made myself look away. He exhaled heavily as he hung up the phone and tossed it onto the bed beside me. The suite had one bedroom, one large living room, and a small kitchen. He said he’d take the couch if I insisted, which I had. Him sleeping beside me would lead to very, very bad things. Bad things that would probably end in mind-blowing orgasms . . . plural.
“Everything okay?”
“I leave for one day and everyone decides that they can’t handle simple shit,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “How hard can it be to follow directions? They’re fucking written in our contract. The delivery address is on the goddamn box. I swear to god . . .” He exhaled again, pacing. “And to top it off, the delivery was supposed to be made yesterday, and they ran late because they couldn’t find the box to begin with. I just—”
“Ro.”
He stopped pacing and turned to me, still looking troubled.
“Can you stop worrying about the company for two seconds?” I asked. “You’re in a gorgeous suite in Miami. I’m sure Sam can take care of whatever mishap happened. It’s after work hours on a Friday. Go downstairs and have a drink, go to a club, do something that has nothing to do with work for five minutes.”
My words seemed to sink in slowly, but I could see when they hit him because his blue eyes glimmered with something much darker than amusement and deeper than lust, something that had the power to draw me in and keep me forever if I let him. He strode toward me, making me incredibly aware that I was sitting in bed wearing nothing more than a plush white robe and a string bikini beneath. He stood beside me. Close, b
ut not close enough. I needed him to stay at a distance. I was still reeling from seeing Camryn and everything she said. I didn’t believe her, I knew better than that. Rowan may have his faults, but he had never once lied to me.
“You think I’m going to go downstairs and have a drink, go to a club, or do something else without you?”
“It doesn’t matter to me.” I shrugged. “I’m perfectly content—”
He sat beside me. I sat up and crossed my legs, bunching the material of the robe between my legs. The robe opened to expose my bikini top. His gaze landed there automatically. I kept my eyes on his throat, the way it moved when he swallowed thickly. His hand moved to my lap, and then my arm. His eyes met mine.
“Whatever you’re doing, I’m doing,” he said. The way he looked at me made me want to believe he meant more than in just that moment. I couldn’t trust myself to believe that.
“I saw Camryn today.”
He took his hand back and closed it into a fist over his bent leg. “Where?”
“The juice bar.”
“Why didn’t you tell me when you got home?”
“I was compartmentalizing.” It was the second time I’d used that on him and with the way his expression seemed to fall a bit, I almost wished I hadn’t. “She said you’re having marital issues, but that this too shall pass. Marriage is hard. I believe those were her exact words.”
“Marital issues.” He let out a forced chuckle. “I served her divorce papers over a month ago. She hasn’t signed them, but she knows it’s inevitable. We aren’t . . .” He exhaled, closing his eyes briefly. He pinned me with them when he opened them once more. “We are not together. We will never be together. I’m not saying this to you as a kid who’s in high school or fresh out of college, Tessa. I’m saying this to you as a man who would give up his left arm to be with you.”
My throat tightened. “What are you saying?”
He slid off the bed and knelt beside me, putting his hand up like an offering. I placed mine in his and tilted slightly to face him, heart pounding, waiting.
“I’m saying that I can’t take back the last four years of my life, but that doesn’t mean I can’t change the way things will be going forward,” he said. “I’m saying that I want to be in your life and Miles’s life, not just as a co-parent, but as more if you’ll have me.”
“Rowan.” I felt the tears building in my eyes before I could stop them.
“I love you, Tessa Monte. I bleed for you.”
I closed my eyes. I had to because I couldn’t bear to see the raw look in his eyes. Tears slid down my face. How long had I wanted to hear those words from him? My entire life. There hadn’t been a single moment in which this hadn’t been a dream of mine and it had just become a reality. The man I had thought was emotionless had proven me wrong and I couldn’t even keep my eyes open long enough to acknowledge the words and say them back.
“I know you probably don’t love me anymore or that you can’t say the words back. I fucked up. I know I did, but I don’t want to spend another moment in your presence without letting you know how I feel.” He brought my hands up to his lips and kissed one and then the other. I opened my eyes, took my hands from him, and wiped my tears.
“Silly, stupid man,” I whispered. “You think love is something that fades with time?”
“I don’t know a thing about love. I only know what I feel for you.” His lips twitched slightly. “You still love me?”
“I told you I loved you before and it changed nothing then. What makes you think it’ll change something now?”
“The time that passed, the things that have happened, the son you gave birth to,” he said. “Want more?”
“You still have Camryn. We can move mountains all day, but as long as we have that cloud above us, we’ll never find enough light to grow.”
“I’m trying to get rid of her, I swear it.”
“Try harder.”
“I will.”
“Good.”
“Whatever she told you is a lie,” he said. “I’m not going to sit here and promise you that things will be perfect. I travel a lot and your job is demanding, but it’ll be better than it would have been four years ago, I can promise you that. I wasn’t ready before, but I’m ready for you now if you’ll have me.”
“And Miles,” I said.
“And Miles.” His lips moved into a small smile that faltered before it fully formed. “What if I put too much pressure on Miles and he grows to resent me? What if—”
I reached out and ran my fingers through his soft hair. He shut his mouth and closed his eyes, taking a long, deep breath.
“You are more than that,” I said. “You are more than your stupid money and your company. More than your last name and your reputation. You are more, Rowan Hawthorne, and Miles will see that.”
A smirk tugged at his lips as he opened his eyes. “I don’t think he likes me. I mean, he likes me when you aren’t around, but the moment you step into the room, he looks at me like I’m trying to move in on his woman. I’ll admit that it makes me kind of proud, but since I am trying to move in on his woman, I kind of need him on board.”
I laughed. “He’s very protective of me.”
“I noticed.”
“But he likes you. I promise.”
“Good.” He smiled up at me. “You want to go to that pool party or would you rather me order room service and skip it?” I tugged on his hair, and he bit his bottom lip and let out a little growl, his expression heating. “You may want to reconsider the things you’re doing to me while you’re sitting on a bed, barely clothed, with that expression on your face.”
“I could say the same thing to you.”
He let out a grating chuckle. “Don’t go offering things like that to a starving man.”
I tugged his hair harder, motioning him up to me. He shifted, coming face to face with me and then following me as I lay back onto the bed.
“You’re gonna have to take the lead here,” he whispered as he braced his hands on either side of me.
I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck, pulling him closer until the tips of our noses were touching.
“I don’t want to push too far.”
“You aren’t pushing,” I whispered against his lips. “I’m pulling.”
It was all he needed before he brought his mouth to mine, licking the seam of my lips slowly, nipping the length of my bottom lip as I angled my head, urging him to give me more. His lips were soft against mine, his tongue moving slowly alongside mine in an unrushed kiss that spread like fire through my veins. His hand slid down the length of my body to the loose knot holding my robe closed. The fabric fell open and he pulled back, eyes hazy as he moved to straddle my legs and set me up so he could slide the fabric off my shoulders and pull it free. Bringing his hand back, he caressed the side of my face, the tops of my breasts, the slopes of my hips.
“I pictured you every night,” he whispered, following the trail his hand made over me with his eyes. “Yet, no amount of imagination could come close to reality.”
He moved off me, but his hand continued to make its way down my stomach, stopping just above the line of my bikini bottom. He hadn’t even really touched me yet and I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. The anticipation was akin to torture.
“Rowan.”
“Give me a moment, Sprite.”
“A moment for what?” I gasped. He brought both hands to the tops of my thighs, squeezing, kneading. I arched. “Rowan, please.”
“In a moment.”
“I think I’m going to die,” I said, my voice a pant. He chuckled.
“If you don’t give me a moment, I’m going to explode and this will be no fun.”
He said it at the same moment that his thumbs swept up my inner thighs, stealing whatever protest I was about to make. I groaned and watched without taking a single breath as he leaned forward, bit the tail of the bow on my hip, and pulled back until the knot gave way. He held my gaze, heated
and full of promises, as he repeated the move on the other side.
Then he reached up and untied the top as well—this time with fingers instead of teeth—and tossed them both aside to join my discarded robe and effectively leave me stark naked beneath him. Leaning forward, he placed a kiss on either side of my jaw, dragging his mouth down to my chest, dropping open-mouthed kisses as he made his way to my right breast, circling my nipple with his tongue before pulling it into his mouth before doing the same on the other side. He tweaked one nipple with the tips of his fingers and sucked on the other. I bucked beneath him, groaning his name, pleading. He took pity on me by pulling back and continuing his slow torture down the center of my stomach, licking, nipping, placing wet kisses on me. When he finally reached my mound, he stopped and looked up. Our gazes met and held.
“I’m not sure I can take it,” I whispered.
“I’m not sure I can either.” His tongue swiped over my clit. My eyes shut as my entire body shook. “Eyes on me, Sprite.”
I gave him what he wanted and my heart beat out of my chest as he lowered his mouth onto me again, giving another long lick. He groaned against me.
“I missed this so fucking much,” he said.
Those were the last words he spoke before his mouth really started moving against me, licking, sucking my clit into his mouth, making sounds of pleasure that rivaled the ones coming out of my mouth. My hands sank into his hair, pulling as he feasted on me.
When he’d said he was a starving man, I hadn’t taken his word at face value, but feeling him and hearing the sounds he was making while I unraveled made me believe him. With one last swipe over my clit, I came undone, pulsing and shouting his name over and over. He nipped at the insides of my thighs as I continued to shake in the aftermath of the orgasm and then made his way back up completely. I’d let go of his hair at some point and was holding on to his muscular shoulders, gripping them as he moved over me. His mouth came back to my neck, sucking there as I dragged my hands down his torso, pressing into each etched muscle, until I reached his board shorts. I pulled them off and he kicked them aside quickly, coming right back to me like he couldn’t bear being away from my skin for too long. Our eyes met again.
My Way Back to You: New York Times Bestselling Author Page 14