Page 26 of One Last Chance

I jump in my seat and Rowland nearly gasps when the waitress appears. We try to act like she didn’t just step into something intensely intimate and quickly order our drinks and food.

When she walks away, I meet eyes with Rowland, who has the same cheeky smirk on his lips as I do.

“I say we’re lucky she turned up when she did,” he says in a slightly subdued tone. “We should try to keep things appropriate and safe for the public for now, so that we can properly enjoy the evening.”

Seeing the big mister CEO almost embarrassed, like we were two misbehaving teenagers doing something naughty, makes my heart flutter in a completely different, non-sexual way. He wants to hold off from the chemistry that undeniably pulls us together and to actually spend quality time together instead. As much as I want to rip his clothes off, I appreciate that.

“Better behave yourself then, Mr. Hall,” I quip.Really can’t help it, can you?

Rowland gives me a scolding grimace before leaning back and glancing around us with an exhale. “This really is a nice place,” he notes. If the dangerous levels of sexual tension right from the jump did something, they seemed to make the atmosphere between us a lot lighter when it came to everything but the sexual tension.

“My moms and I used to go here all the time when I was younger. Before I became too cool to be seen hanging out with my parents, and eventually moved out,” I say with a faint smile. Remembering those times brings me comfort.

Rowland chuckles.

“Yeah. Those aren’t the times parents look forward to,” he says, and I sense his mind trail off somewhere before he blinks and turns to me again. “Though I suppose it is inevitable.”

I can imagine where his thoughts lead and I don’t want him to think that speaking about his family is some sort of taboo now, just because it made our last date end in a not so pleasant way. “I honestly can’t imagine dealing with my teenage self at some points,” I say with a snort, hoping to set his mind at ease.

Rowland seems appreciative of my understanding. He nods tiredly.

“My oldest son was fine, really. A little moody here and there, but not too bad. He’s a really good kid. So is Mina, she just… She’s just a little lost right now, that’s all.”

The sorrow in his voice is something he can’t hide, and it brings out this intense need to comfort him out of me. I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table.

“I’m sorry. We’re not here tonight to prattle about my life’s woes, are we?” He tries to act all charming, to push the topic aside like it’s nothing, but I don’t let him. I watch him intently, softly, to let him know I don’t mind.

“We’re here to get to know each other,” I say and slowly, casually, tap my fingers over the table until I reach his hand. I touch him only briefly, passing over his fingers as to gauge his response, before finally glancing up to meet his gaze again. “Aren’t we?” I raise a brow. “That includes your family. Not talking about it kind of turned out to be the problem. I’m not saying we have to. I’m simply saying that I’m happy to listen, andyou won’t get much exciting information from me unless you want to hear about monsteras and snake plants.”

Like I hoped it would, my words melt his proud demeanor a little. He chuckles to himself, shaking his head.

“Shall I tell you my entire history, then?” he asks lightheartedly.

“Go on,” I play along.

Rowland takes a deep breath, like he is preparing himself to give a speech at some business meeting. “Me and my wife—ex wife—Hope met in college. We had Shawn pretty young, but managed fine. Can’t say that nepotism didn’t aid us at the beginning to start a comfortable life, with my father helping me to get into the business world and eventually lead the company…”

“Nepotism for the win,” I say sarcastically, trying to stay engaged. Rowland smirks at me.At least he is self-aware. He gets a point for that for sure.

“We um…had Mina a little while later. I thought we were happy and things were working. But I guess my condition is the sort that can get worse with age, and the older I got, the more Hope complained. Overexposure to pheromones is fairly similar for betas as it is with venus individuals. She’d complain about having migraines, sometimes trouble breathing. We ruled out asthma, but it caused similar symptoms. I felt horrible, and I did all I could do to mediate things. Looking back, I think she hasn’t been happy for a while. A part of it was certainly my fault. A part was her not communicating. We were foolish to think having another kid would somehow fix us, make us more whole.”

Rowland’s gaze shifts to the side, towards the lake painted with oranges, pinks and purples from the sunset. Usually, it would be charming, but right now it feels…melancholic.

“I love Mac to death, don’t get me wrong,” he clarifies sharply. “I couldn’t imagine a world without him and I’m happy he’shere, but it was barely a year after that when Hope drifted even further away from me, and at that point there was nothing I could do to pull her back. She got surrounded by stupid, ignorant people. Isolated from me. She got angry. Angrier and angrier, until there was nothing left from the bond I thought we would have for the rest of our lives. It wasn’t good for us or the kids, so…we split.”

As he stares blankly at the table, looking like a lost puppy, I can’t help but reach my hand out over his and gently squeeze.

Rowland meets my eyes.

“Well, I can’t really trump you here, but I went through quite the number of shit relationships myself. Hard to tell whether one really traumatic one is better or worse than a slew of crap ones, though,” I say with a self-deprecating grin.

He smiles and his wide shoulders seem to relax and fall lower. He tilts his head ever so slightly to the side and narrows his eyes before he cocks his brow. “So, is it working? My masterful plan to win you over with the raw power of pity? It tends to work wonders,” he says, words dripping with sarcasm.

God, you are irresistible. Fuck.

My coy expression seems to amuse him. He leans a little further away, like he’s careful not to push me too much, and just sits there looking at me like…like no one has ever looked at me before, I don’t think.

“You’re definitely not losing,” I mutter teasingly.

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