FOUR
WILLOW
I can't stop smiling as I walk into my first class of the day. My body is deliciously sore in all the right places, reminding me of last night's passionate encounter with Rogue. I've never felt so wanted, so cherished.
I’ve never felt that way before. My family has always favored Ivy over me. She’s the better sister—the one who is a free spirit, the girl who can do no wrong—while I’m the weirdo who sits in the corner and reads. I get that we’re different, despite us being twins, but I’m not a people person. I much prefer individual conversations than being in a group, where I feel awkward and overwhelmed.
I’m not used to feeling the way Rogue makes me feel, and I’m not sure what to do about it. I’d love to see him again, but I get the sense there’s a lot about him that I don’t know—or that he doesn’t want to tell me, at least. I can’t deny that if last night was the last time I ever see him, it was an amazing way to end the time we spent together.
Just thinking about it makes my cheeks heat. God, what’s wrong with me?
"Earth to Willow!" my friend Zoe's voice snaps me out of my daydream. "Where were you just now? You look like the cat that got the cream."
I blush deeper, ducking my head. "Nowhere," I mumble unconvincingly.
Zoe's eyes widen. "Oh my god, you met someone! Spill, girl!"
I bite my lip, debating how much to share. "His name is Rogue," I say finally. "We met at O'Malley's the other night."
"Rogue?" Zoe raises an eyebrow. "Sounds dangerous."
If only she knew. There's definitely something dangerous about Rogue, but it only adds to his allure. "He's... intense," I admit. "But so gentle and caring too."
Zoe leans in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "And? Did you...?"
I nod, unable to keep the smile off my face. "Last night. It was... amazing."
Zoe squeals, drawing annoyed looks from our classmates. "Our little Willow, all grown up! I want all the details later."
As class begins, I try to focus on the lecture. But my mind keeps wandering back to Rogue. To the way he held me after, like he never wanted to let go. The soft kiss he pressed to my forehead this morning over coffee.
I've never felt this way before. It's exhilarating and terrifying all at once. I know so little about him, about his life outside of our bubble. But when I'm with him, none of that seems to matter.
The rest of the day passes in a blur. I go through the motions of my classes and my shift at the daycare, but my thoughts are constantly on Rogue. Will he call? When will I see him again?
As I walk back to my apartment that evening, my phone buzzes with a text. My pulse spikes as I wonder if it’s from Rogue, but my heart sinks when I see it’s a message from Ivy.
Ivy: Dinner tonight. Mom’s asked me to tell you.
I sigh. Why couldn’t Mom tell me herself?
Me: What time?
Ivy: Seven. I’ll see you there.
Ugh, I don’t want to go. I know it won’t be entertaining.
I groan inwardly at the thought of family dinner. As much as I love my parents and Ivy, these dinners always leave me feeling drained and inadequate. The constant comparisons between Ivy and me, the not-so-subtle hints about my lack of social life... it's exhausting.
But I can't skip it without facing a barrage of questions and guilt trips. So I resign myself to an evening of forced smiles and deflecting personal questions.
I arrive at my parents' house just before seven, steeling myself for the evening ahead. Ivy's already there, lounging on the couch with a cup of coffee.
"Hey, sis," she greets me with a lazy smile. "You look... different. Something happen?"
I blush, cursing my fair skin that shows every emotion. "No, nothing," I lie, avoiding her knowing gaze.
Ivy's eyes narrow, but before she can press further, our mother sweeps into the room.
"Girls! So glad you could both make it," she says, air-kissing our cheeks. "Willow, darling, you look flushed. Are you feeling alright?"
"I'm fine, Mom," I assure her, forcing a smile. "Just a bit warm from the walk over."
Dinner is as I expected—a minefield of loaded questions and veiled criticisms.
"So, Ivy," Mom begins, "how are things going with that charming boy you've been seeing? Lochlann, was it?"
Ivy smirks, launching into a story about her latest date. I try not to show my surprise. Ivy hasn't mentioned seeing anyone seriously. But then again, we haven't been as close lately as we used to be.
"And what about you, Willow?" Dad chimes in. "Any young men in your life?"
I nearly choke on my water, Rogue's face flashing in my mind. "No, no one special," I manage to say.
"Well, you know, dear," Mom says with a sigh, "you really should try to get out more. You're not going to meet anyone holed up in your apartment with your books all the time."
I bite back a retort, reminding myself that they don't know about Rogue. And even if they did, I'm not sure how I'd explain him. 'Oh, by the way, I lost my virginity to a mysterious, dangerous-looking man I barely know.' Yeah, that wouldn’t go over well.
“Hmm, and how is University going?” Mom asks, her smile forced as she turns to me. “Still doing teaching?”
“Yes,” I reply, trying my hardest not to snap at her.
“It’s a shame you didn’t follow Ivy and go into art, where she’s able to express herself.”
I clench my jaw, trying not to let my mother's words get to me. "I love teaching, Mom. It's what I'm passionate about."
"Of course, dear," she says, dismissively. "It's just such a shame to waste your potential on something so... ordinary."
I feel a familiar ache in my chest at her words. No matter what I do, it's never quite good enough in her eyes. Not compared to Ivy's free-spirited, artistic pursuits.
"I think teaching is a noble profession," my dad chimes in, though his tone lacks conviction, and he’s not even focused on the conversation, just busy reading the newspaper. "The world needs good teachers."
I open my mouth to thank him for trying to stick up for me but stop when I notice Ivy rolling her eyes.
"Speaking of potential," Mom continues, turning to Ivy. "Tell us more about this gallery showing you have coming up. It sounds so exciting!"
As Ivy launches into a detailed description of her latest art project, I find my mind drifting to switching schools, as it always does when Mom starts this crap. I should have left Boston when I had the chance. I truly thought that things would change. How stupid was I?
The rest of dinner passes in a blur of thinly veiled criticisms and not-so-subtle comparisons. By the time dessert is served, I'm emotionally exhausted.
"Well, this has been lovely," I say, standing up. "But I should really get going. I have an early class tomorrow."
"Oh, Willow," Mom sighs, her lips curled in disdain. "Always rushing off. You really should learn to relax and enjoy yourself more, like Ivy."
I force a smile, trying not to let her words sting. "I'll work on that, Mom. Thanks for dinner."
As I gather my things to leave, Ivy follows me to the door. "Hey," she says, her voice uncharacteristically soft. "You okay?"
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. Ivy reaches out, squeezing my arm gently. "Don't let them get to you, sis. You're doing great."
Her words surprise me. It's been a while since we've had a moment like this; a flash of the closeness we used to share. "Thanks, Ivy," I manage to say.
As I walk home, the cool night air helps clear my head. I pull out my phone, hoping for a message from Rogue. Nothing. My heart sinks a little, but I remind myself it's only been a day.
Back in my apartment, I curl up on the couch with a book, trying to lose myself in the story. It’s hard, but I push all thoughts of Rogue and my family from my mind. I’m used to being second best, and I’m not ever going to be that girl that chases after a man. I’ve tried for years to get my parents’ love. I will not do that again. I am who I am and that’s never going to change.
It’s been three days since dinner at my parents’ house, and I’ve still not heard anything from Rogue. I’ve given up on that. I should have known it was never going to be more than one night.
I’ve tried to focus on my classes, but thoughts of Rogue keep intruding. The memory of his touch, his intense gaze, the way he made me feel so cherished... it haunts me.
"Earth to Willow!" Zoe's voice snaps me out of my daydream. We're sitting in the campus coffee shop between classes, and I realize I've been staring blankly at my untouched latte for God knows how long.
"Sorry," I mumble, taking a sip of my now-lukewarm drink. "Just lost in thought."
Zoe eyes me sympathetically. "Still thinking about Mr. Mysterious, huh?"
I nod, not bothering to deny it. "I just don't understand. We had this amazing connection, and then... nothing. Radio silence."
"Men are pigs," Zoe declares emphatically. "You're better off without him."
I know she's trying to make me feel better, but her words just make the ache in my chest worse. Because despite everything, I can't bring myself to believe that about Rogue. There was something in the way he looked at me, held me... it felt real.
"Maybe," I say noncommittally. "I just wish I knew what happened."
Zoe reaches across the table, squeezing my hand. "I know, honey. But you can't keep torturing yourself like this. You need to get out, have some fun!"
I raise an eyebrow, skeptically. "What did you have in mind?"
A mischievous grin spreads across Zoe's face. "There's a party tonight at Sigma Chi. We're going."
I groan inwardly. A frat party is the last thing I feel like right now. "I don't know, Zoe?—"
"Nope, no excuses," she cuts me off. "You're coming. Who knows, you might even meet someone who can help you forget about Rogue."
The thought makes my stomach churn, but I know Zoe won't take no for an answer. And maybe she's right. Maybe I do need to get out of my head for a while.
"Fine," I concede with a sigh. "But I'm not staying out late. I have an early class tomorrow."
Zoe squeals in delight, already planning our outfits in her head. As we head to our next class, I try to muster up some enthusiasm for the night ahead. But a small part of me can't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, Rogue will call before then.
The party is in full swing by the time Zoe and I arrive at the Sigma Chi house. The bass from the music reverberates through my body as we make our way inside. The place is packed with sweaty bodies, the air thick with the scent of beer and cheap cologne.
Zoe, in her element, immediately starts mingling, pulling me along in her wake. I plaster on a smile and nod along to conversations I can barely hear over the music, nursing the red solo cup Zoe thrust into my hands.
An hour in, and I'm ready to call it quits. The noise, the crowd, the forced small talk—it's all too much. I've lost sight of Zoe in the throng of people. I'm seriously considering making a quiet exit, when I feel a tap on my shoulder.
I turn to find a guy I vaguely recognize from one of my classes. Mark, I think his name is. He's cute, in a clean-cut, boy-next-door kind of way.
"Willow, right?" he shouts over the music. "I didn't expect to see you here!"
I force a smile. "Yeah, my friend Zoe dragged me out."
We chat for a while, and I find myself relaxing a bit. Mark is nice, easy to talk to. Under different circumstances, I might even be interested. But all I can think about is how different he is from Rogue. Where Mark is open and cheerful, Rogue was intense and mysterious. Where Mark's touch is friendly and casual, Rogue's was electric, setting my skin on fire.
"Do you want to get out of here?" Mark asks suddenly. "Maybe grab a coffee or something?"
For a moment, I'm tempted. It would be so easy to say yes, to try and move on, to forget about Rogue and the way he made me feel. But I know it wouldn't be fair to Mark, or to myself.
"I'm sorry," I say, genuinely apologetic. "You're really nice, but I'm... kind of dealing with something right now."
Mark nods, understanding in his eyes. "No worries. If you ever want to talk, or just hang out as friends, let me know."
As he walks away, I feel a mixture of relief and sadness wash over me. I make my way outside, needing some fresh air. The cool night breeze is a welcome relief after the stuffy interior of the frat house.
I lean against the porch railing, looking out at the street. And that's when I see him.
Rogue.
He's across the street, leaning against his motorcycle, eyes fixed on me. Even from this distance, I can feel the intensity of his gaze. My heart starts racing, a mixture of excitement and anger coursing through me.
"What are you doing here?" I demand when I reach him, my voice shakier than I'd like.
Rogue's jaw clenches. "I needed to see you."
"After three days of silence?" I scoff, crossing my arms over my chest. "You could have called."
He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture I'm starting to recognize as a sign of frustration. "It's complicated, Willow. I shouldn't be here at all, but I couldn't stay away."
His words send a thrill through me, even as I try to hold on to my anger. "What's so complicated about picking up a phone?"
Rogue sighs, his eyes scanning our surroundings before landing back on me. "My life... it's not simple. There are things about me, about what I do, that you don't understand."
"Then help me understand," I plead, taking a step closer to him. "Because I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, Rogue. And I thought... I thought what we shared meant something."
His expression softens, and he reaches out to cup my cheek. I lean into his touch instinctively. "It did mean something, Little Flower. More than you know."
The tenderness in his voice, the way his thumb strokes my cheek... it melts my resolve. I want to be angry with him, to demand answers, but all I can think about is how much I've missed him.
"Come with me," he says suddenly, his hand dropping to take mine. "Let me explain. Please."
I hesitate for a moment, glancing back at the frat house. Zoe will wonder where I've gone, but right now, I can't bring myself to care. I nod, allowing Rogue to lead me to his motorcycle.
We end up at a small, secluded park on the outskirts of town. Rogue kills the engine and helps me off the bike. We walk in silence to a bench overlooking a small pond, the moonlight reflecting off its surface.
"I'm sorry," Rogue says finally, his voice low. "For disappearing on you."
I nod, waiting for him to continue.
He takes a deep breath. "The truth is, Willow, my life is dangerous. It’s not fair on you to be mixed up in that. You’re good, pure, beautiful. You deserve the best, and I know my world colliding with yours will only bring danger.”
I sit there in silence for a moment, processing Rogue's words. Part of me wants to demand more details, to understand exactly what kind of danger he's talking about. But another part is afraid of what I might learn.
"I appreciate you being honest with me," I say finally, my voice soft. "But don't you think I should get a say in what I can or can't handle?"
Rogue turns to look at me, surprise evident in his eyes. "You don't understand, Little Flower. The things I'm involved in... they're not just dangerous, they're illegal. Being with me puts a target on your back."
His admission should scare me. I should get up and walk away, go back to my safe, predictable life. But instead, I find myself moving closer to him.
"I'm not naive, Rogue," I tell him, reaching out to take his hand. "I know you're not some regular 9-to-5 guy. But I should have a say in what I want."
Rogue's grip on my hand tightens. "Willow—" he starts, but I cut him off.
"I know we barely know each other. I know this is crazy and probably stupid. But when I'm with you, I feel alive in a way I never have before. You make me feel seen, cherished. Isn't that worth it?"
For a long moment, Rogue just stares at me, his eyes searching mine. Then, with a growl, he pulls me to him, claiming my lips in a searing kiss.
I melt into him, all the longing and frustration of the past few days pouring out. His hands tangle in my hair as he deepens the kiss, and I cling to him like he's my lifeline.
When we finally break apart, my heart is racing, and I’m struggling to catch a breath. Rogue rests his forehead against mine, his eyes closed.
"You're going to be the death of me, Little Flower," he murmurs.
I can't help but giggle at that. "Does this mean you're done pushing me away?"
Rogue pulls back slightly, cupping my face in his hands. His expression is serious as he says, "I can't promise you a normal life, Willow. There will always be risks, always be parts of my world that I need to keep you separate from. Can you live with that?"
I consider his words carefully. I know he's giving me an out, a chance to walk away before I get in too deep. But looking into his eyes, feeling the warmth of his touch, I know it's already too late for that.
"I can," I say firmly. "As long as you promise to be honest with me and to let me make my own choices."
Rogue nods, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I promise."