Page 69 of Fighting Spirit

I turn to Rowan. “Is that why you needed a buffer? So he can’t be an ass?”

“He’s just a little abrasive.” Rowan shrugs. “He can get kind of opinionated at the games.”

“I’ve literally never met a worse human being,” Trevor mutters, crossing his arms over his chest and turning to face out the window.

“It’ll be fine. He’ll be on his best behavior with you there,” Rowan says.

I slump down in my seat, wondering what the hell I’ve gotten myself into. “I’m really not as charming as you seem to think I am.” I force a laugh.

Rowan’s eyes snap over for a split second, and I don’t miss the groove between his brows.

“You don’t need to be charming,” says Trevor. “Keith just needs an audience and he’ll be a good boy.”

I give him a quick smile. They don’t need to see my nerves. I usually do alright on a first impression. It’s typically when people get to know me that they find out everything they don’t like.

Rowan doesn’t acknowledge Trevor. His hand reaches across the gap, the backs of his fingers bridging the space to give my knee a tap. “We don’t have to go. I know I kinda sprung this on you,” he says quietly.

His offer’s sweet, but I’m in this now. Rowan’s been showing up for me ever since we met, I’m not going to bail on the first chance I get to show up for him.

“No way.” This time, when I smile at him, it’s with a confidence I don’t quite feel but that I need him to see. “We got this.”

Chapter Thirty

ROWAN

Ihaven’t even pulled the parking brake before a tap sounds at my window. Jesus Christ, all the fuckin’ spaces in this God damn parking lot, and he finds me this fuckin’ fast. I had a plan. I was going to take a minute to get myself together, explain some stuff to Ruth so she wasn’t blindsided by the way me and my old man are around each other. I was going to grab a drink and then call him to figure out where we were meeting.

Instead I have to face him before I’ve even taken a breath.

The tap comes again before I’m able to respond.

“Rowan?” I’m expecting my dad’s voice, but my name comes from my right. Ruth’s tone is soft, concerned. I turn to look at her and see something a little sad in the set of her lips.

“It’s fine.” I try to brush her off, but her hand reaches out to cover mine.

“Is it?”

“Probably.” I attempt a laugh, but she doesn’t buy it and gives my hand another squeeze.

“We can go?”

I don’t need to say anything. She already knows. She can probably read everything in my face, everything I don’t want to say about the mess we’re walking into.

“He’s literally right outside the car.” I raise an eyebrow.

“I’ll distract him.” She winks. “Or we could just run over his toes.”

A laugh bursts out of me, one I didn’t think I’d be capable of right now. This fuckin’ girl.

“Come on, trouble.” I reach between the seats and unfasten her seatbelt, then mine. “We better get this over with.”

Dad steps back as I push my door open, a wide smile on his face. As soon as I’ve shut it behind me, he’s pulling me into a tight, back-slapping embrace. “Rowan!” I can hear the grin in his voice. “What was all that about?” There’s something unkind in his laugh. Ruth catches it, too, because I haven’t gotten out a word before she’s stepping up next to me and extending a hand.

He’s forced to drop my shoulders to return her shake, his manners too well-embedded to leave somebody hanging. “Hi, Mr Ainsley, I’m Ruth Walcott.”

He looks a little taken aback; I wonder if Mom told him I would be bringing somebody. I can see the cogs turning as he switches gears, adapting to having another person around.

“Please, call me Keith.” He clasps her hand in both of his, and I have to fight back the touch of irritation that prickles me at the sight. “And how do you know my son? Are you two…” He trails off, his eyes darting between us pointedly.

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