Page 27

?

M ILES

By the time I left my aunt’s, it was too late to stop by Rowan’s. My sleep has sucked lately, and after four hours of flopping around my mattress, I finally conked out, only to be awoken by my alarm at eight for practice.

We usually get to sleep in after a game, but since the whole team has been off, it’s morning meetings, film, meetings with the trainers, then light practice. I take a quick nap when I get home, then head across the city. I’ve never understood the term rush hour traffic, when there’s anything but rushing happening on the streets of Boston. I’m idling more than I’m driving, and it’s a little past six by the time I make it to Rowan’s.

An elderly lady leaves the building as I jog up the stoop and I hold the door open for her.

“Thank you, honey,” she says as she makes her way down the final steps. I’d offer to help her, but then I’d lose my chance at sneaking in the building.

When I see she’s made it to the sidewalk safely, I make my way up the stairs to Rowan’s apartment. I haven’t planned out what I’m going to say to her, but I knock on the door before I chicken out.

Not that I’m afraid of her, but I’m worried she won’t like me overstepping by being here.

“Are you kidding me?” a muffled voice says from the other side of the door. “Don’t tell me you forgot your keys. I’m not supposed to get up.”

The door opens and a woman stands in front of me. Natalie McDaniels. Her right leg is in a brace, and she’s right. She shouldn’t be standing on it.

“Oh, hi.” Her face softens and she doesn’t hide the way her eyes rake over my body. “Can I help you?”

She sticks her chest out, which is challenging while leaning on two crutches.

“Is Rowan here?” I keep my eyes above neck-level, not that I’m tempted in the least to check her out.

“She stepped out to pick up dinner.”

The apartment smells delicious, like garlic, basil, and oregano. I glance over Natalie’s head and notice a pan of lasagna on the counter. “Looks like dinner is ready.”

Natalie glances over her shoulder. “Oh, that? My sister just took it out of the oven. She may not care about the extra pounds around her hips and thighs, but I do. It’s important to eat well to keep your body looking good. I see you follow my same sentiment.”

The fuck?

Rowan worked all day, came home and made dinner, then her sister sent her out for rabbit food? I’m pissed as hell at Natalie, but I need to make nice so she’ll let me in.

“Are you and Rowan...” She lifts her brow in question, and it’s hard to tell if she’s curious or disgusted that I might be with her sister.

“We’re friends.”

Her smile grows wide. “I figured,” she says, like the possibility of someone being with her sister is unrealistic.

Again. The fuck? Even if Rowan hadn’t told me, Adam , about her family, I wouldn’t like her sister.

“You should get off your feet.” I nod toward her brace.

“You’re so thoughtful. I wish everyone was more aware of the pain I’ve been going through since my surgery. Have you ever torn your ACL?”

“No.” I’ve torn my rotator cuff and dislocated my shoulder more times than I can count, which aren’t as painful as the ACL, but I don’t tell her this. It’s a painful surgery and a long ass recovery, and I empathize with my teammates who have had similar injuries, but Rowan’s sister isn’t eliciting any empathy from me right now.

“You have an athletic build. So tall and so many muscles. Do you do something physical in your job?”

Hell. Do I have a sign on my forehead that says, flirt with me ? I never noticed how many women hit on me until Rowan came into my life. And left it.

“Let me help you to the couch,” I say instead of responding to her question.

There’s a pile of pillows where she’s been elevating her leg and a medical ice pack on the floor.

“You’re so sweet.” She waits for me to...to what, I have no idea. She’s on crutches. It’s not like she needs me to carry her or anything.

I follow behind her and take the crutches from her when she sinks into the cushions, then adjust the pillows under her knee.

“Wow. I could get used to this treatment. Good men are hard to find. And I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Miles. I assume Rowan’s been taking good care of you.”

“A little. I’m left alone all day to fend for myself though, and this couch is so damn small and uncomfortable. You wouldn’t even fit on it, you’re so big.”

I don’t tell her I’ve sat on it before. With Rowan. On my lap.

“I’m sure you’re ready to head back to your place instead of sleeping on this couch for the past week.”

“Oh, there’s no way I could sleep out here. I sleep in Rowan’s bed at night. I just come out here during the day. I can’t say much for her apartment, but her bed is Heaven.”

Yeah. No shit.

“Glad there’s room for you both.”

Natalie snorts. “The way Rowan thrashes in her sleep? I can’t risk her kicking me as she tosses and turns.”

I open my mouth to argue that Rowan doesn’t thrash. She passes out on my chest or on her side as I cradle her into my chest.

But if Rowan isn’t sleeping in her bed, that means she’s been cramped on this tiny-ass couch for the past seven nights. Fucking bullshit.

“Sorry it took so long,” Rowan says as she comes through the door and heads straight to the kitchen. “There was a line at Noodles, even though I ordered before I left here, and then there was a mix up at Thai—” she turns and notices me. “Miles?”

“Hey.” I tuck my hands in my pockets and rock back on my heels. Now that I’m here, I don’t know what I’m doing. What to say. I want to reprimand her for letting her sister walk all over her—even with the bum knee—but not here. Not in front of Natalie.

I want to scoop her into my arms and bring her back to my place. I want to kiss her until we both can’t breathe. I want to—

“Miles?” she says again.

“I haven’t eaten all day. Are you going to bring me my food or are you making me hobble into the kitchen to get it?” Natalie whines.

Calling it a kitchen is almost laughable. Rowan’s apartment is technically a studio, but the thin wall that sections off the other room that’s barely big enough for the bed makes it a one bedroom. But kitchen? My microwave from college would take up the entire counter space.

“Sorry.” Rowan unpacks the food and makes a plate for her sister, then carries it over to her.

“Oh my God. I’m not a pig. I can’t eat all of this. My stomach isn’t as big as yours.”

“I’ll put back whatever you don’t eat.”

“Take it away.” Natalie shoos her away. “I can’t eat in front of people if they’re not eating.”

What a bitch.

“Your body needs fuel to heal. Eat up. I’ll stay for dinner, if that’s okay.” I give her a polite smile, which encourages her to take the plate.

Rowan gives me a funny look, which I ignore.

“There isn’t room on this tiny couch for you, big guy. But I’ll share.”

“That lasagna has my name on it, and I wouldn’t want to disturb your injury, so I’ll sit at the table with Rowan. That okay?” I ask Rowan.

She blinks a few times before nodding.

“Great.” It only takes two strides to cross to the cabinet. I take down two plates and open a drawer that I know keeps the forks and other utensils. “How big a piece do you want, Doc?”

“I, uh, was going to make a salad.”

“I got you. Have a seat while I make it.” I open the fridge and take out a bag of lettuce. Opening the crisper, I find an array of vegetables. “What would you like in it?”

“You don’t have to—”

“You’ve been on your feet all day, and by the looks of it”—I nod toward the dirty dishes in the sink—“you whipped up a lasagna then headed out into the cold for Chinese.”

“It’s Thai. My sister won’t eat Chinese.”

“Do you know the amount of MSG and added crap that’s in Chinese food?” Natalie whines from the couch. For a moment, I imagined Rowan and me alone, having a nice dinner. Wishful thinking.

“What’s MSG? Magical sensational goodness? Because that’s what I call a pupu platter. To be fair, I only ordered one when I was a kid because of the name. But it’s still my favorite.”

Rowan covers her grin with her hand and takes out a cutting board. “You can take out a cucumber, red pepper, and mushrooms, if that’s okay. And I have a jar of marinated artichoke hearts, if you like them.”

“Marinated?” Natalie whines from the couch. “Do you know how much oil they pack in those jars? You should get the canned ones. Or better yet, fresh.”

Rowan lowers her head and takes out a knife. I reach for it and motion for her to sit at the table next to me.

“Take a load off, Doc.” Even if she didn’t have purple smudges under her eyes, I can read the exhaustion in her shoulders. How slowly she moves. The lack of vibrancy in her eyes.

Could be work. Could be because of me and my assery. Could be because of her sister. Most likely it’s a combination of all of the above. The least I can do is be here for her, whether she wants me to be or not.

“I can help.”

“You already did by making this amazing lasagna. I hope you weren’t planning on having any leftovers, because I may devour the entire dish.” I chop up the cucumber and toss it in the bowl with the lettuce and pepper.

“I don’t think even you could polish all this off in one sitting.”

“Well then, guess I better come back tomorrow to take care of the rest.” I set the salad bowl on the table and a bottle of dressing I found in the fridge next to her plate.

“My water glass is empty, Rowan.”

When Rowan goes to stand, I place a hand on her shoulder, keeping her in her chair. “Serve up. I’ll be right back.”

I don’t look at Natalie when I grab her glass, and don’t speak to her when I set it back down on the table next to her. I’m sure she’s in pain, uncomfortable, and probably bored out of her mind, but I’m not here to entertain her. I’m here to help Rowan. And if that means waiting on her self-centered sister, then that’s what I’ll do.

“I’m finished with my food. I’m so full already.” Natalie hands me her plate, still full of the food Rowan served her, and I carry it back to the counter.

If she wasn’t going to eat, there was no need to send Rowan out all over town for Thai food. I bite back my thoughts and drop to the seat across from Rowan. After I dump salad on my plate, I set the bowl on the counter and serve our lasagna.

With her kitchen space being so small and my wingspan being so long, I don’t even have to get up from the table.

I like the cozy space. My knees press into Rowan’s, and when she tries to scoot back, I hook my foot around the leg of her chair, keeping her close.

“This is amazing,” I say after swallowing my first bite of lasagna. “Is there anything you’re not good at?”

I love how her cheeks turn pink but hate how she lowers her head in embarrassment. My fun, flirty friend is gone, replaced by a shell of a woman. My heart breaks for her and the way her family treats her. She’s nothing but kind and good and self-sacrificing, which makes me want to spoil her all the more.

“Hello? I’m over here bored out of my mind. While you get to leave this shithole of an apartment and have a social life, mine has been destroyed while I’m cooped up on this miniature couch. The least you could do is not ignore me. Miles and I were having fun before you interrupted.”

I can honestly say I’ve never been an outright asshole to anyone, especially a woman, but I’m about to go full fuck-you mode on Rowan’s sister. But for Rowan’s sake, I keep things civil.

“Sorry about that, Natalie, but your sister’s cooking, and company,” I say softer so only Rowan can hear me, “are too delicious to resist.” I lick my lips and lower my gaze to Rowan’s mouth.

She quickly lowers her gaze to her food. She does more pushing around of her lasagna than eating, and I scoop up a healthy portion and hold out my fork to her. “Open up.”

Rowan eyes the food then flicks her gaze to mine. “I can feed myself.”

“Can you?” I wink and tip my chin to her plate. “Looks to me like your fork isn’t working. And if there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s fork. Open up, Row.”

This time she doesn’t try to hide her grin. Making Rowan smile lights up my entire freaking insides. She leans forwards and lets me feed her.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” I say so only she can hear me.

Her smile falters and once again, she pulls away from me. Fuck. I promised I wouldn’t push, and here I am, the first time spending time with her since our talk and already blowing it. Friends, I remind myself. That’s not something I’d say to a friend.

I mean, I compliment my friends’ wives all the time, but not like this. Not with a soft voice or the fuck me eyes. I don’t stare at their mouths wishing I could kiss them. Touch them. Hold them.

“Are you done yet? You can’t spend all night eating, Rowan. Your hips and ass will hate you for it.”

Fuck the rules. “Your hips and ass are perfect.” I don’t break eye contact with her.

If I didn’t think it would make matters worse for her and her sister, I’d tell Natalie how fucking hot Rowan is. How her body is made for loving. For my loving. How we fit together like the cheese on the lasagna; melting together, tangled up, unable to separate.

Yeah, my analogy doesn’t even make sense in my head so maybe I’m glad I didn’t spit out the nonsense. Rowan likes when I say stupid shit like that, so maybe I will tell Natalie exactly how I feel about her sister.

When I open my mouth to reply, Rowan shoots to her feet.

“Thank you for stopping by Miles. I need to spend time with my sister now and help her get ready for bed.”

“Don’t leave on my account,” Natalie says. “You can help me get ready for bed if you want. I sure wouldn't mind.”

Rowan’s skin blanches before it turns pink. I can’t take it any longer. Picking up our dishes, I bring them to the sink and turn to face the living room.

“If I stayed, it would be to help Rowan. She busts her most perfect ass all day at work, then comes home to wait on her sister. She has a heart of gold and never asks for a single thing. While it’s tempting to shoulder some responsibility for her, I won’t because I know how much your sister doesn’t like to ask for help. However, my aunt raised me to clean up after myself. So while you two do what you need to do, I’m gonna clean up the kitchen, put the leftovers away, then get out of your hair.”

I turn my back on them, afraid I overstepped, and start washing the dishes. It’s hard to make out their conversation over the water and the clanging of pans, and I don’t even try. I’m fuming for Rowan. Fuming that she doesn’t stand up for herself. I’ve never been attracted to weak women, and while she’s anything but weak, she’s definitely defeated.

Years and years of abuse and toxicity have taken their toll on her. And where the fuck is their mother? If I remember correctly, she has a flexible schedule as a substitute teacher and should be able to take care of Natalie.

When the dishes are dried and put away, I head to the door. Natalie isn’t on the couch anymore, and Rowan comes out of the bedroom.

“Thank you for stopping by and doing the dishes. You didn’t have to do that.”

Since I already broke my promise to lay low, I brush a strand of hair out of her face and tuck it behind her ear.

“I’d do anything for you, Rowan. Except one thing.” I lean down and brush a kiss across her temple. “Stay away. I can’t stay away from you, no matter how badly you want me to.”