Page 29 of The Rebel

I’d never had a conversation like this before. Although I’d had relationships, none of them had been long-term, so love was never said or brought up.

But I was intrigued.

Hell, I was captivated.

“Do you think it’s something you feel immediately?” I asked.

“That’s attraction, not love.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, fascinated by another one of her descriptions. “What is it, then?”

“In my previous business, when I worked the floor, I’d watch people. The way they interacted with their husbands and wives. I consider myself an expert observer. But during those times was when I actually got to see firsthand what love looked like.”

I lifted another fry and dragged it through the ketchup. “Tell me what you saw.”

“Not just saw, but heard.” She set down her drink, freeing her hand, placing both on her lap. “Words that caused a smile. A look of complete contentment and security. The comfort in certain acts—easy ones, like holding someone’s hand.” She rested her voice for a second. “I learned that it’s more than just a statement and a feeling. It’s a fulfillment. Everyone has different needs, but when yours are met, that’s love.”

Points I’d never considered.

But she was right because had these women fulfilled me, I was sure I would have loved them.

They just didn’t.

And within a few weeks, I hadn’t wanted them to.

“Your ex,” I started, taking a drink, “why didn’t he fill you?”

“Easiest question you’ve asked all night.” She laughed. “He was too immature. He didn’t view the world with eyes of a thirty-two-year-old, he acted more like a twenty-two-year-old. If I was only looking for someone to have fun with, he would have been perfect.”

“But you are looking—that’s what it sounds like you’re saying.”

She shook her head. “I haven’t been, no. I’ve actually been single for a while, getting acclimated to this new job, navigating all of these life challenges and changes before I hit the big three-oh in a couple of months.” She winced. “It’s wild to me that I’m this age. Where did the time go?”

I chuckled. “We’re the same age.” Done with the burger, I moved the plate to the side and leaned over the table. “Yet … you said yes to me.” I let those words churn. “Why?”

“Why not?”

“No, no.” I crossed my hands. “That’s not your answer, that’s a placeholder.” When she didn’t immediately respond, I surrounded the wine stem, swirling the dark liquid before I took a sip. “You let me into your room. You let me into your body. Andyou’ve let me into your life for the last two nights, going on three. There’s a reason for that, Rowan. What is it?”

She glanced down at her lap, and when her head slowly rose, her hands came with it, gripping the sides of her plate. “Have you ever looked at someone and just knew they were going to be an amazing fuck?” Her eyes narrowed. “I saw that in you. I wanted it. And for once, I let myself have it.”

“That’s the only reason?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“And now?”

Her teeth found her lip, running across it, sinking into the soft flesh. “I’m ready for the next round.”

SIX

Rowan

“You have my number now,” Cooper said as he gripped the armrests of the living room chair that I was sitting in, leaning down so his face was inches from mine. “If you need someone to go to dinner with or to make you fucking scream again”—he let out a short, deep laugh, which I knew had everything to do with our conversation last night over dinner—“call me.”

It had been days since he’d used cologne—he didn’t have any with him—yet I could still smell it, like the scent permanently lived on his skin. “It’s funny, you didn’t ask for my number.”

“It’s funny, you didn’t offer it.”

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