Page 27 of At First Smile

“I am petrified I’ll let you down. I let down everyone who’s ever loved or had faith in me.

I’m scared I’ll break your heart, or you’ll break mine.

” I take a steadying breath. “I’ve always let that fear control me, keep me away…

protect me. I don’t want to be safe if it means throwing away a chance to be with you.

I am more scared than I’ve ever been that you’ll walk away.

” I fist my hands at my sides. “But if that’s what you want, I understand.

I just don’t want to hide from you anymore.

So, here I am.” I swing up both hands. “I’m Rowan Iverson.

I play hockey for the L.A. Bobcats. They call me Rowdy Rowan.

I’ve been in every penalty box in the NHL…

twice. I punched Landon Phillips and I’m not sorry about it.

I’ve never really been in a real relationship.

I tried with Emma Sinclair, but she was more interested in raising her public profile.

I wasn’t heartbroken about our breakup. That relationship was more about me trying to do what I thought I was supposed to, not about how I felt about her.

In the year I dated Emma, I didn’t feel an ounce for her of what I felt in just thirty-five hours with you…

That I still feel for you. God, I want you so bad and that hasn’t dulled in the last week, it’s only gotten stronger.

I care about you…so, so much and that scares me.

And I’m okay with being afraid because you’re worth it. ”

As if in slow motion, Pen turns. Her eyes glossy and lips drawn into the sweetest smile.

My heart soars and I go on, “I’m scared of thunderstorms. I tell people The Godfather is my favorite movie, but it’s really Homeward Bound . I cry like a baby every time Shadow is reunited with Peter.”

Her grin widens.

“Finn is my favorite brother, but I’d give my right arm to have Gillian say he’s proud of me just once.”

“Rowan,” she whispers and steps closer.

I meet her steps and take her hand, placing it on my heart. “I want…need to tell you everything.”

“Not all at once.” A tender laugh coats her words.

“I know.” I press her hand tight against my chest. “There’ll be times you’ll need to pull things out of me, but I’ll never lie to you. I’ll never intentionally withhold who I am and what’s in here again.” I lift her hand and splay it over my sternum. “I promise.”

Her eyes drop to her hand laid upon my heart.

“I know I hurt you and I don’t expect you to forget that. I don’t want you to. But if you’d let me, I’d like to earn back your trust.”

And hopefully your heart. For the briefest of moments, I’d held her heart.

She’d offered it so openly in Michigan and hours later I nearly crushed it.

It may take a lifetime to gain it back, but I’m willing to live that life.

Because even if her heart slipped from my grasp, I know mine is securely in hers.

Love at first sight is a myth used to sell romance novels.

I know that. I’m not in love with Pen, but I knew from the first moment she smiled at me I was gone.

Call it insta-lust or insta-connection. Whatever it is, there’s a charge between us that tethers me to her.

“Let’s start with a baklava croissant,” she says, her smiling eyes peer up at me.

“Okay.” I grin.

Fingers linked, I guide her to the table.

“Look who’s channeling their inner Austen-hero energy,” she teases, as I pull out her chair.

Smiling, I take the seat across from her. My forehead puckers at the flower arrangement. “Let me—” I scoop up the vase and move it to a table out of Pen’s field of vision.

“You didn’t need to do that.” An adorable pout covers her face. “They were pret—eep!” she squeaks, her eyes grow into giant saucers.

“Pen?”

“Rowan. Something is under the table and licked me.” Her whisper is slow and cautious.

“Oh.” I scrub my hand down my face, trying to hide my smile. “It’s GB.”

“What’s a GB?”

“My dog.”

“You have a dog?”

“He was sleeping under the table.”

GB sneaks out from beneath the table and immediately places his head on Pen’s lap. His big brown eyes look up at her, imploring for the stroke of her hand.

“Oh my god,” she coos, petting him. “He’s adorable.”

The black and brown boxer wiggles his butt. Contentment sighs across his muscular body with Pen’s slow strokes along his neck.

“You should have led with him. I would’ve said yes a lot sooner.”

“Note to self.” I chuckle. “GB.” I take my seat and whistle for GB to come.

Ignoring me, he nestles against Pen. Her delicate fingers stroke along his smooth fur. Jealousy vibrates in my chest. I can’t blame him. I’d be the same way if my head lay on Pen’s lap. Though, I can think of less innocent things to do if my head was on her lap.

I’d hike up that mint green sundress, spread her wide, and bury my face between her thighs. Like the starving man I am, I’d devour her until we were both sated. Although, I doubt I could get my fill of the sexy whimpers she makes just before coming.

Focus, Rowan. Fighting my growing erection, I adjust in my seat and cough. “Besides the baklava croissant, what do you recommend?”

She raises her palm. “Wait. One more thing I want to discuss before we do this.”

I close the menu.

“The articles.”

“I asked Sasha to make the pictures of us go away. She couldn’t get them to drop the story, so she pivoted to one about universal design.”

“Who’s Sasha?”

“My publicist.”

Her right brow ticks up.

“I know , I have a publicist. She’s married to my agent, Greg, so it’s more like a package deal.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “God, I sound like a pretentious twat.”

“She’s married to motherfucker?”

Laughter bubbles out of me. “That she is.”

“So, you didn’t know?”

“I didn’t know until they hit. I would have never let them do a story like that. In fact, I got pretty angry with Sasha.”

“Rowan.” Her lips purse.

“I apologized. Also, she gave me a tongue lashing.”

“I’m sure you deserved it.”

“I did.” My hand rests on the table, and I let out a long breath. “Please know, that I would never use you for my reputation. I asked for the pictures to be buried to protect you. The last thing I want is to have my messy life tarnish you.”

She reaches across the table and places her palm on top of mine. “I know. I just needed to hear you say that. I’m as scared as you are, and part of me doesn’t trust myself.”

“Because of Alex?”

“Yes. I hate that he still has this hold over me.” Her lips drag down. “As upset as I was, I knew deep down that your actions were to protect, not hurt. The portion of me that doesn’t trust myself tried to convince me otherwise.”

Something tugs in my chest at her confession. “I’m sorry I made you doubt yourself.”

“The doubt was there before everything with you. My feelings for you are just making me face them. It was easy to pretend they weren’t there, because there hasn’t been anyone that made me want to face them…’til you.”

I intertwine our fingers. “We can take this slow.”

She tilts her head.

“Let me be clear, so there’s no doubt, this isn’t me holding back. I very much want you. I want to date you. I want a relationship with you. I have zero hesitation about this… But I know Alex put you through a lot and you may need to walk before we run together, so we’ll go at your pace.”

“You folks ready to order?” Jela reappears, a tablet in her hands.

“Wait. One more thing. At the airport, I saw your ticket and asked Greg to have his assistant upgrade you for buying breakfast. I didn’t ask him to have you seated next to me, but I’m not sorry—not in the least—that he did.” My green eyes capture her honey-colored ones.

It’s not all my truths, but it’s a start.

As Pen cautions, I don’t need to share all of myself at once.

Still, this is the last unsaid thing that stands between sharing a baklava croissant with Pen – and, hopefully, more.

The others will come. Like a good book, I’ll reveal myself one page at a time, but whatever chapter she flips to I’m ready to let her read me, all of me.

“Swoon,” Jela drawls. “What will it be, handsome?”

My hand squeezes Pen’s. “Whatever she wants.”

A beat passes. Our woven gazes engage in a silent conversation. Her eyes seeming to assess and weigh all my truths. While I’m sure mine glint with hope, pleading for the second chance I don’t deserve.

“We’ll have a baklava croissant,” Pen murmurs and clenches my hand.