Page 37 of At First Smile

CHAPTER NINETEEN

MVP

Pen

F our weeks ago, Rowan Iverson came into my life.

It’s hard to imagine a time before then.

Since brunch almost two weeks ago, we’ve nestled into this relationship.

Eight of the last eleven nights found me falling asleep curled up with Rowan, GB slumbering at our feet, and waking up in his arms. He and Wes even joined the bicoastal besties for a repeat brunch performance, minus Gillian.

Finn took the call behind his locked study door.

As the bus eases down the street, I read the last message from Rowan, my lips tug up into an oversized grin.

Even Trina admits that she’s never seen me this happy.

The one good thing about the interaction with Gillian is that it seemed to have thawed Trina’s iciness about Rowan.

She won’t be rocking the Team Row-Pen T-shirts that JoJo teases she’s going to make, but Trina has safely become pro-Rowan.

Rowan: Pick you up at six.

Me: I can take a Lyft. It’s such an inconvenience for you to drive all the way out here and then back to L.A.

Rowan: Which means I get MORE time with you and less time waiting for you. Eager face emoji.

A sharp laugh falls out of me causing a nearby passenger to clear their throat. Thanks to JoJo, Rowan has quickly adopted the habit of typing out emojis.

Me: If you insist.

In the almost three weeks since we’ve started dating, Rowan’s primarily come to me in Seal Beach.

Except for the first trip to Axel’s with JoJo, and then another one last Saturday before the three of us headed to watch Wes in his new show, this is the first trip I’m taking to Rowan’s place.

Tonight, I’ll stay at his condo since we’ll be attending the MVP Foundation’s event tomorrow.

I’m going as a representative of Walters Children’s Hospital, along with the Chief of Staff and my soon-to-be-boss Nelson.

As Nelson reminded me as I left the hospital this afternoon, this is my first test in the role I’ll soon be officially acting in.

Rowan will be there as a celebrity client of one of the foundation’s founders.

Me: While highly inappropriate, it was rather ingenious to orchestrate a partnership with the hospital I work at just to try to get us in the same place again.

Rowan: You’d think getting twelve percent of my earnings would be enough for them, but they want to meddle in one hundred percent of my life.

Over tacos at a beachside stand this week while discussing plans for the weekend, we put it together. Greg and Sasha, who founded the MVP Foundation five years ago, were playing matchmaker.

Me: Shall we let Greg and Sasha know their attempt to play cupid was for naught or mess with them? We can pretend we’re not together and see what silly shenanigans they get up to in their attempt to ship us?

Rowan: I’d say mess with them, but there’s no way you’ll keep your hands off me for that long. Winky face emoji.

Me: Aren’t we cocky?

Rowan: Luv, it’s your favorite thing about me.

Me: It is a lovely cock.

Biting back my laugh, I can almost hear Rowan’s groaned, “Christ!” I do so enjoy shocking him with my sassier comments.

Rowan: So many thoughts about you and my lovely cock. All of which involve that smart mouth of yours.

“Oh dear.” Cheeks inflamed, my little gasp pulls the attention of nearby bus passengers.

Rowan: But instead, I need to get into my SUV and head your way. See you soon, luv.

Me: After that comment, not soon enough.

Rowan: You’ll need to be patient because I have plans for you that don’t involve fucking that smart mouth and tight little pussy. Though I promise those are on the docket for tonight.

I adjust myself in the seat, hoping nobody can read what’s on my screen.

While I’m not shocked at his casual use of vulgarity, I’m more concerned that the large print that allows me to more easily read my texts, sometimes means a lack of privacy.

And I’d prefer the passengers that I ride the bus with daily not be privy to my sexting exchange with Rowan.

Me: As long as eating that sweet little pussy of mine is also on the docket, you can have your way with me, sir.

A thrill tingles along my spine at my saucy comment. It may rile him up, but let’s be honest, my sweet little pussy loves the attention.

My smile is wickedly pleased with his Christ, woman response. Leaning against the headrest, a happy sigh fills me. Daydreaming about the many naughty things I’d like Rowan to do to me, I slip my phone into my blazer pocket. Only to pull it out two seconds later as it vibrates awake.

“Baby, if you’re hoping I verbalize what I just texted, you should know, there’ll be–” I lower my voice to a breathy whisper and cup my hand around the cell. “—no sexy talk while I’m on the bus.”

“Well, I certainly hope not.”

Jaw slack, I sit up. “Mom.”

“I’m surprised you recognize my voice. You haven’t called me in almost three weeks,” she scolds.

“Sorry.” I cringe. “I’ve been busy.”

“Sounds like it.”

Rubbing the middle of my forehead, I silently groan. Why didn’t I look at the caller ID before just answering?

“Who’s baby?” Her tone is laced with curiosity and caution.

“Umm…” My eyes dart around the bus, meeting only quiet murmurs and muffled music from earbud-wearing passengers.

Talking with my mother about relationships is akin to a dental cleaning. Somehow, I never floss or brush enough and am guaranteed to walk away with cavities.

“I’d like to hope it’s Alex, but he said his two requests to take you to dinner to celebrate your promotion were ignored. Don’t get me started on having to hear about your promotion from Alex and not my own daughter, but?—”

“It’s only an interim position, and it hasn’t started yet,” I interrupt in a miffed tone. “Also, it’s so inappropriate for Alex and you to be talking about me. Mother, you have to understand this. We broke up.”

“I know that, but he reached out after you hadn’t responded to his messages. He misses you and I’m not going to be rude. What if you two get back together?”

Eyes clamped tight, I hiss, “We are never getting back together. You have my express permission to be rude. In fact, it can be my birthday present this year.”

“I just don’t understand what went wrong with you two. He’s handsome, successful, and doted on you. He’d be a good provider… Someone to take care of you.”

“I don’t need someone to take care of me,” I grit out.

The silence on the phone almost paints the image of her pinched features.

Each stretched beat replays old retorts from her.

I just worry about what happens after your vision is completely gone.

I know life will be easier if you have someone to take care of you.

Each are her worries and wants for me, not mine.

With a hard breath, I school my features into my “just for mom” smile. “Mother, I know you just want what you think is best for me, but please understand that Alex and I are over.”

“Well, if you’re having phone sex with someone else, I’d imagine they really are.”

If only Alex understood that. He hadn’t directly approached me since the flowers on my doorstep three weeks ago, but he’d sent another dozen roses last week.

I temporarily unblocked him from social media and sent him a message telling him I would not accept any invitations to dinner and asked him to stop with the flowers.

He simply replied with Okay . My hope is that would be the end of it, but…

“Mom, when did you talk to Alex?”

“Last week.” She pauses. “Sweetie, I know you said Alex has been trying to win you back, but you sound a little scared. Is there something I should?—”

“Just ignore him if he calls again. Everything’s fine.” My interruption is both quick and sharp.

“You sound nervous, honey. Maybe I can talk to him?—”

“No!” I slosh an annoyed breath. “There’s nothing for you to fix. You don’t need to worry about me.” Absently, I tug at a loose tendril of hair.

“I always worry about you.”

I yank tighter on my hair in hopes the twinge of pain will dull my annoyance. “Don’t.”

Silence stretches between us before she speaks, “So, who’s this baby you’re sexting with?”

“We’re not sexting... Well, not technically.”

“Sexting is healthy. Charlie and I?—”

“Mother.” Groaning, I rub my temples.

“Fine. So, who’s this guy?”

“His name is Rowan Iverson.”

“The hockey player?!”

Of course my Buffalo Sabres obsessed mother would know who he is. Not to mention it was one of the teams Rowan played with early in his career. A fact he teases this former Buffalo girl about.

“The one that punched Landon Phillips?”

“Landon Phillips isn’t what he presents to the world.” Just like Alex. The bus’s automated system calls out my stop and my body relaxes with its promised respite from my mother. “Can we talk about it during our scheduled weekly chat? I’m at my stop.”

“You mean the weekly scheduled chats you’ve skipped three weeks in a row?”

Unfolding Cane Austen, I stand up. “Yep. I promise I’ll make the next week.”

Hanging up, I exit the bus and head home.

Tension coils in my muscles with each step closer to my destination.

When I get home and find no flowers on my doorstep, I relax.

Maybe Alex got it, finally. JoJo advised going to the police, but there’s very little to report.

This behavior stopped for months and has just popped up again.

He’s sent flowers twice. It’s not something the police would do something about.

I DM’d him and told him to stop. With the flowerless porch, I hope he’s done just that.

“Hey gorgeous,” Rowan drawls as I open the door. He holds a pair of to-go cups and a pastry bag in his hands. “I grabbed us some tea and a treat for the drive.”

“Triple chocolate cookies from Bread?” I bounce on my feet.

Leaning in, he kisses my cheek. “I also grabbed a baklava croissant for tomorrow morning, since we’ll be missing our Bread date.”

My lips find his.