Page 60 of Fighting Spirit

“Thank God,” he says and I have to grin at his tone. “So, you wanna hang out with me tonight or what?”

I sit up, a little surprised. “Like, now?”

“Sure.” He sounds relaxed, but there’s a tightness in his voice that I don’t miss.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing, I just…” He pauses, and I bet he’s scratching at his neck. “I actually had something in mind.”

“What?” I draw out the word, every letter ridged with suspicion.

“I’m outside your apartment.”

“What?!” I screech. He lets out a string of curses, but I don’t hear them as I rush to the window, barely managing not to trip on yesterday’s jeans as I go.

Just like he said, he’s parked out front, leaning against his car. The soft breeze tousles his hair in a way that I am determined not to find attractive. If I’m going to survive being this man’s friend, then I need to keep my eyes to myself, at least until my lizard brain calms down.

I open the window, wincing as the cold air makes my eyes sting. “What are you doing here?” I yell down at him.

He startles again. “Still on the phone.”

Shit. “Sorry,” I whisper into the receiver.

“You gonna yell at me some more, or are you buzzing me in?”

I don’t answer. He knows exactly what I’m going to do. Unfortunately for me, I seem to have a real inability to say no to this man.

When Rowan gets inside, we stand in the kitchen for a long minute, silence stretching taut between us. We must make a real sight, me looking anywhere but at him, him staring me down like I’m a rabid animal. If it weren’t for the blush that gives him away every time, I would have thought him completely unaffected by the awkwardness.

“Can I just say-”

“No,” he cuts me off.

“Excuse me?”

“No,” he says again. “We don’t need to. You’re gonna do some big apology, I’m gonna tell you that we’re cool, we’re gonna promise not to bring it up again, and then things are gonna be all weird and stiff for a while until you decide to believe me when I tell you I’m not mad. I’d really love it if we could skip all that and jump straight to the part where we’re friends again?”

I can’t help but laugh a little at the challenge in his gaze. “Yeah, I guess that sounds great.”

“Awesome.” He makes a beeline for my room. “You wanna watch a movie or something?”

“Is your roommate home?” Rowan asks around a mouthful of toast. We only made it through half of an old movie he likes before he got snacky. He’s sat in the desk chair, not commenting on the piles of random crap loaded up on the desk.

“She’s at a party.” I pull my hair down from the bun I’ve had since practice and grab the brush off my nightstand, ready to wage my nightly war on it.

“You didn’t want to go?”

I shrug. “I don’t really know the host.”

He raises a brow and I know I’m in for one of his probing questions. “I thought you and your friend were close, the way you talk about her…”

“We are close.” I frown.

“You couldn’t have gone with her?”

“I could have. I didn’t want to.”

“Okay.” He takes another bite, dropping the subject. I eye him warily. In the whole time I’ve known him, he’s never asked a random question, but for the life of me I can’t figure out what he’s thinking. Does he think that Georgie ditched me? She told me that I could go with her, I just felt like a night at home.

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