Page 87 of At First Dance
My throat is dry, my heart too full, and my brain scrambles for the right words that won’t ruin this moment. Won’t make it too much too fast. Or worse—too little, too late.
I tilt my head toward her, brushing a damp strand of hair from her cheek.
She’s not smiling.
Not frowning either.
Just… quiet. Thoughtful. Her expression is unreadable in the pale light that seeps through the warped wooden slats of the barn.
“Are you okay?” I ask, voice hoarse.
She nods slowly. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”
I wait. Give her space.
She exhales. “I keep wondering if this changes things.”
“What do you want it to change?”
Her lips twist. “That’s the thing, Rowan. I don’tknow.I just know I don’t want to go back to pretending I don’t want this. Last time seemed like a fluke, but now that it’s happened twice, I can’t brush it aside like you can.”
My chest tightens.
She turns on her side, propping her head on her hand. “I don’t regret any of it. But if we’re gonna wake up tomorrow and pretend it didn’t happen—”
“We won’t,” I cut in. “Iwon’t.”
I pull her closer, resting my forehead against hers. “You said once that you weren’t ready to be sent away. That you wanted to stay. And I never told you the truth.”
She doesn’t blink. Just watches me like she already knows what’s coming.
“I wanted you to stay, too,” I admit. “But I was scared. Of this. Of you. Of what you make me feel.”
“Why?”
I pause, heart thudding. “Because the last time I let someone in… it almost ruined me.”
She swallows, her thumb stroking along my jaw as I reveal the entire story with Marissa. I expect to find a sense of pity in her gaze, but it never shows.
“I’m not her,” she says softly.
“I know.”
She nods once, then curls into my side, resting her head on my shoulder. We lie like that in silence, letting the storm and our breathing fill the empty spaces between us.
But even as the tension softens, a new one builds.
What happens now? Because sex is one thing. Wanting is another. But feelings? Real ones? Those are where things get messy.
And I’m terrified I’ll mess this up before I even have a chance to make it right.
Chapter Seventeen – Ivy
The sunlight spilling through the bedroom window is warm and soft, but it doesn’t wake me.
Rowan’s arms do.
They’re wrapped around me like a fortress, one banded under my ribs, the other draped over my hip. His chest presses against my back, slow breaths fanning over the curve of my neck. It’s… still. Quiet. Like the storm never happened. Like last night wasn’t a complete unraveling of everything I thought I could hold back.
