Page 94 of For Dear Life

“Would you rather I walked away?”

His hands slide down to hold my waist. “No.”

I smooth where I’ve ruffled his hair. “I don’t know how to behave around people, Rowan, and I especially don’t know how to navigate… this. Us. I hate that I upset you because I can’t think the way you do or fully comprehend unspoken emotions.”

“Stop trying to control me just because you can’t control other things around you and in yourself,” he says quietly. “Let go.”

“Oh?” I step back.

Rowan lets out a short laugh and grabs my hand, squeezing tight. “Let go of what you can. Not me. I want you. This.”

“And you want time together alone?” I ask. “Because we do tend to irritate each other often, and I’m unsure I’m ready for where the explosions might lead if we’re alone.”

“Violet…” He shakes his head. “Not necessarily alone. A day together. An evening. One not associated with murder investigations at all.”

I bite back, and swallow down, a protest that nothing is more important right now, especially considering Leif’s predicament, but understand. The bond I have with Rowan isn’t one created by fate, but by each moment we spend together that draws me closer than I wanted—or that I can keep up with.

“Do you want this? Us?” he asks when I don’t reply.

“I cannot imagine life without you, Rowan,” I tell him.

“That isn’t quite an answer.”

The raging magic and anger ebbed, pushed into a corner by the unity and I rest one hand against his thrumming heart. Why did Rowan not speak to me about this before? Or did he and I couldn’t hear? “I held you away from me, but I never wanted you to go, and that’s confusing for me. I understand I confuse us both, but please believe I care, even if I don’t match your expectations of normality. I’m learning.”

“I’ll take your normality over anybody else’s.” He kisses the top of my head. “As long as you allow me in.”

Allow him in. “Speaking of normality, Holly expects me to go to the Spring Ball, now I’m on the committee.”

“Right.” Rowan tugs his bottom lip into his mouth. “And you want to take me as you offered?”

“I did not off—” The smirk. “No, I don’t want to go to the dance with you, but perhaps you could help me escape that awful fate?”

He slants his head. “You know, Violet, you always ask for dates in a very odd, vague manner.”

I rub fingers across my mouth. “Would you take me on a date the night of the Spring Ball? But not to the Spring Ball.”

“Again, odd request.” He chuckles. “But sure. If I can choose where.”

“Hmm. But—” He raises both brows. “Alright.”

“And can I ask you something else?”

“Go ahead.”

“If I try to hold your hand or hug you, could you please not react as if you’re in pain?” He strokes my cheek with the back of his hand.

“And how do you know that I’m not in pain when you touch me, Rowan?”

“Oh, sweet Violet,” he says quietly. “I’m perfectly aware my touch doesn’t cause you pain, otherwise you wouldn’t have kissed me like that.”

Whatever I feel for Rowan, there’s one thing about this guy that I’ll never, ever accept. He can talk me in circles to win an argument or silence my retorts—or indulge in mild coercion.

But the argument about Leif?

That isn’t over. Not yet.

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