Page 40 of Scythe & Sparrow
“Her name isRose, you fucking asshole,” I hiss as I turn on him. Though I step right into his space, he doesn’t budge. He just smiles at me like this is all a fucking game, one that he’s winning.
“Another yes, then. What happened?”
“Do you remember that time about ten seconds ago when I told you it was none of your business? It’s stillnone of your fucking business.”
Rowan falls into silence. I turn my back on him to fill a couple water bottles. His voice is softer than I expect when he says, “She was pretty clear there’s nothing going on between you. Didn’t get the impression she was happy about it though. So it begs the question, why not?”
I turn off the water and grip the edge of the sink. “Rowan—”
“And if you say ‘Claire,’ I’m going to punch you in your fucking throat—”
“It’s not Claire.” I wheel around to face him. Rowan’s smirk might be teasing but worry still hides in his eyes. “It’sme.”
His eyes narrow, that smirk of his long gone. “What about you?”
“I’m her doctor, for one thing.”
“Forbidden. I like it. Makes it ten times hotter.”
I groan and swipe a hand down my face. “I’m not … I can’t … I’m not ready for a relationship.”
“Who said anything about a relationship, youfeckin’ eejit? You’re putting too much pressure on yourself. You’re allowed to have fun.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not going touseher forfun.”
“Didn’t say you would. But she is a grown-ass adult woman who might also want to havefun. Did you ever think about that?”
I’d like to say,No, I have not, but truth is, I think about it a lot. Probably every waking hour, in fact. How it would be nice to have something easy, something with no strings attached, no responsibility to hold myself to a standard that seems more and more impossible to maintain. It would be nice to be in the moment with someone, without worrying about the future and the kind ofperson I might not be despite the years I’ve spent molding myself to fit that box.
I open my mouth to try to rationalize my inertia, but the increasingly weak argument evaporates when I hear the guest room door close at the end of the hall and thetap, tap, tapof Rose’s crutches as she enters the living space. Rowan gives me a pitying look and draws me into an embrace before she can join us. I sigh. “Maybe you should give yourself a break,” Rowan whispers in my ear. “You’re a dumbass, but you’re a good man. You deserve to have fun too. And I like the little banshee.”
He claps me on my back and heads toward the living room, tossing a grin over his shoulder as he goes. But then it’s Rose’s magnetic pull that draws my attention away. She stops in front of me with a gentle smile, her eyes soft, three rumpled shirts hanging from the handle of her crutches.
“Let me know if I can help.”
I’m more worried about her passing out when I start the closed reduction procedure, but I nod instead. “Maybe you can help distract her, if she wants.”
“Yeah,” she says as she watches Rowan help Sloane to her feet, his nervous energy peeling from him in waves. “Man-guy there is about as calm as a monkey on a gridiron.”
“Man-guy …?”
“Long story.” With a final, fleeting smile, she leads the way out the door. We take two vehicles, Rowan and Sloane following Rose and me in their rental car.
When we get to the clinic, I inject Sloane’s joint with lidocaine, and after fifteen minutes I start the procedure to manipulate her bone back into place. We take it slow, pausing to wait for hermuscles to relax, for the pain to become a little more bearable. Rowan never lets go of her good hand. He reminds her to breathe. Tells her she’s brave, and tough, and so strong. I don’t know how much of it registers as she closes her eyes and grits her teeth against the agony. When the bone finally shifts into correct alignment, she takes a deep, unsteady breath. Rowan rests his head next to hers and I look to Rose, who’s sitting in the corner of the room, her gaze not straying from the couple even though I’m sure she feels me watching.
After a few moments of rest and some pain meds, Rose gets Sloane into a fresh shirt and pair of leggings, and then I fit her with a sling before we leave.
Rose and I don’t talk on the short drive home. We don’t talk much over dinner either when I really think about it. We mostly converse with Sloane and Rowan, and not directly to each other, even when Sloane announces she’s too exhausted to stay up any longer and Rowan briefly leaves to help her get situated in the other guest room they’ll share. There’s a tension that’s settled between us, one I find difficult to pin down. I’d like to think it’s instinct, that too many apex predators in one place has set us on edge. Or that it’s the discomfort of being in the presence of two people who have so obviously just realized they’re falling in love. But it’s not that. And I know it. It’s the tension that comes with wanting so much more than you’re willing to take.
Now it’s close to midnight. And I’m still wide-awake. Because there are muffled voices from the guest room across the hall where Rowan and Sloane are staying. Voices whose words are indecipherable, but the tone is unmistakable. Desire. Desperation. Demands. There’s a low chuckle. I hear the creak of the mattressthrough the thin walls. A moment later, there’s a loud moan from Sloane.
“Fuck. My. Life,” I groan as I pull a pillow across my face.
It does not stop. Forhours. I try falling asleep with my earbuds and a playlist of white noise, but all the white noise in the world can’t cover up the occasional scream. I swear to Christ, I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to murder my brother more than I have tonight. And I’m almost positive he’s rubbing my self-imposed celibacy in my fucking face.You’re allowed to have fun, he’d said just this afternoon.
Maybe he’s right. Would it be so bad to want something easy if Rose wanted it too? If we made no promises about where it would go? She won’t stay here forever. Once she’s fully recovered, she’ll be back on the road.
It’s finally quiet when I sit up on the edge of my bed and put my earbuds away. I stand and leave my room as though summoned by a force I can barely resist, not stopping until I’m standing outside Rose’s room.
