Page 35 of We're Not Strangers Anymore

“Surprise,” I say, trying to sound casual. “Thought we could use a change of scenery.”

“This is amazing.” she breathes, taking in the details. “You did all of this?”

I shrug, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the praise. “Yeah– well I thought the least I could do was feed you after earlier.”

She laughs, almost embarrassed. We settle down on the blanket, the lanterns creating a cozy atmosphere. I pour us each a glass of wine, the rich red liquid glinting in the soft light.

“You know,” I start, feeling uneasy. “I feel awful about leaving you at the house back in Chicago.” The memories of her hiding in my suitcase start flooding back.

She looks up, furrowing her brow at the bad memory. “Don’t worry about it,” her expression relaxes. “I would have bit those guys like this.” She says, biting into a prime rib sandwich.

I let out an involuntary laugh, caught off guard by her casual joke about almost being abducted by the fucking cartel. This girl is something else.

“How do you take things so lightly? I mean, it’s not a bad thing it’s just– isn’t it a little, I don’t know– traumatizing for you?” I ask, the grin slowly dropping from my lips.

“It’s funny you should ask.” She says, but doesn’t continue.

“Okay– why?” I press.

“Because I don’t have an answer for that mister therapist man.” She says mockingly, her mouth half full.

I chuckle, taking a sip of my wine. “Seriously, how do you deal with things that most people would cry over?”

She sets her food down on her paper plate and looks at me thoughtfully. “I laugh instead. My dad– Frank, used to whoop my ass for crying. So I decided to package my feelings up in a cute little imaginary box and store them away in my head for another day.”

“Hm,” I look up, contemplating her answer. “I don’t say this lightly, Rowan. You’re a strong woman, funny too– there’s not a lot like you.” She’s wise beyond her years, I guess that’s what trauma does to a person.

She looks down sheepishly, hiding a smile.

We start to eat and the conversation between us feels effortless. When it came to me and women, I wasn’t interested in talking or hearing them talk. But Rowan is easy to talk to. I can joke with her like she’s one of the boys and I can fall for her like she’s my dream girl at the same time.Not that I am falling for her.We just have a deeper connection. She’s what I need after Luciano dying. He was truly my bestfriend. I wish he were here to get to know her the way I have, he’d love her.

“So tell me,” she says, leaning in with a conspiratorial smile, “what’s the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you?”

I groan, rubbing the back of my neck. “Do I have to?”

“Yes you do.” She says while trying to balance a grape on her nose.

I sigh dramatically. “When I was fifteen Luciano and I went to this party on the north side. I was trying really hard to impress this girl that was a grade above me– mind you, these are the most stuck up girls in Chicago,” I laugh. “So anyway, I was about to drop the fattest pickup line and before I could even finish, Luciano came up behind me and pantsed me right in front of her– all of her friends started laughing hysterically.”

She bursts into laughter, clutching her stomach. “No way! What did you do?”

“I did the only thing I could,” I say, grinning. “I gave him a wedgie so hard in front of his girlfriend, that his feet lifted off of the floor. He was laughing at first then he startedscreaming at me to put him down.” I laugh between words at the memory like it had just happened yesterday.

Rowan laughs until tears form at the corners of her eyes. “I could only imagine that. God, it must have been fun to have a brother.”

“It was, you would have fit right in with us.” I say, looking down as my smile slowly fades.

I take a deep breath ready to say what’s on my mind. “Rowan I–”

She looks at me, her eyes full of curiosity– and something more. The words are right there on the tip of my tongue, but it’s too soon.

“I’m glad you’re here with me.” I say instead.

“Honestly, me too.” She says, softly. “We’d make great friends if you hadn’t kidnapped me.” I want to tell her why, Ireallydo. It’s just not the right time.

Rowan

We stumble into the bedroom laughing as we cling to each other for support. The wine buzz isdefinitelykicking us in the ass.

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