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Chapter Twenty-Two

RUTH

I t’s been well over a month since the night at the frat house, but I still lock the studio door every time I’m rehearsing late. I wonder if I’ll ever stop feeling on edge when I’m here late at night. I burn with anger at the thought. Who are they to take away my safe space? This used to be the thing I came to do when I needed to unwind, to decompress, or just do something I actually feel good at, but now I don’t even have that.

My phone lights up with a text from Georgie, asking when I’m going to be home. I grin, quickly typing out a message that I’m on my way. Things have felt weird between us lately, her spending so much time out of the apartment. It’s so different from the closeness of last year. Both of us were nervous freshmen, excited to strike out on our own. It’s like we needed each other not to feel so adrift, like our friendship was our own little life raft. Seeing her spread her wings has been kind of tough, especially when it feels like I’m getting left behind. On Monday, she announced that she’d decided on economics as her major, which sent me into a bit of a spiral.

My inbox has been filling with reminders that it’s ‘never too soon to consider your major,’ but I can’t think of anything worse than trying to narrow down what I want to study. Every time I talk to my mom, she asks me about my plans for the future. I always manage to brush her off, but deep down, I’m just embarrassed to say that I have no clue what I want to do with my life.

The costume’s draped over a chair in the corner of the studio, mocking me. Sometimes I feel like I’m just playing dress up, avoiding my responsibilities. But whenever I head out on the field and hear the roar of the crowd, or give a hug to an excited kid, I know that it’s what I’m meant to be doing. I just need to figure out how to spend the next seventy years once I can’t be Gunther anymore…

Heading out into the chilly air, I squeak in surprise at the hulking shadow standing under a lamppost, like some spy from a film noir, ready to hand off a briefcase or perform a hit.

“Rowan?” I hiss out, the unmistakable head of hair picking up to reveal blue eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey.” He scratches his neck the way he always does.

“Hey.” I raise my eyebrows expectantly. “What are you doing here?”

“I was gonna make a joke about coming to kidnap you, but it seemed like it might be too soon.”

“Good call,” I say dryly.

“Let’s go do something.”

My steps falter as I jerk back a little. I can’t say I was expecting to see him here. He kind of blew me off the last time we saw each other, and aside from some brief text exchanges, I’ve not really heard from him.

“Like what?” I ask, suspicion in every syllable.

“Whatever you want.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Drive around? Anything.”

“Why?” I know I’m being difficult, but I can’t help but needle him.

He huffs in exasperation. “I don’t fuckin’ know, Ruth. Maybe because I like being around you?” He mumbles something under his breath that sounds a lot like ‘Even when you’re being a brat.’

“You got a funny way of showing it.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve barely heard from you since the game.” I scuff my toe against the asphalt. “I thought you were sick of me,” I mumble.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Rowan growls, closing the distance between us and pulling me into a tight hug. I stiffen for a second before sinking into his warm embrace. His shoulder is solid where I rest my forehead against it, his arms heavy around my back as he keeps me against him. His shirt smells like pine and I have to stop myself from balling my fists in it. “I thought you were done with me , you weren’t exactly blowing up my phone either.”

Fuck.

Maybe we’ve both just been circling, waiting for the other to show their belly first. I should be grateful that Rowan’s the one who cracked. If it were left up to me, we’d be in our forties wondering why we’d never texted again.

We stand for several long minutes, our breathing syncing as I soak in the warmth of his body. I’m not sure I’ve ever had a hug this good before, like my battery is getting plugged in to recharge.

“Come on.” He loosens one arm, keeping the other around my shoulders so he can tow me toward his truck.

“I thought you’d rethought the kidnapping?”

“I rethought making a joke about it. I was always gonna get you in the truck.”

“Do I get a say in this?”

“Do you want one?”

I think for a second before realizing that seeing Rowan is pretty much exactly what I needed after a shitty day.

“Nah.”

“Then get in the truck.”