Wrong For Me

Rowan’s head pulls back, his brows jumping slightly, but it only takes a second for his features to soften. “Oak,” he calls tenderly, those golden eyes of his holding mine. “I’m sorry. Talk to me for a minute.”

“Leave,” Alec orders.

Rowan glares his way. “Man. Back off. Why don’t you leave, so I can talk to my girl here?”

My brows jump at his claim.

His girl?

Others have said it a hundred times over, but he’s always laughed it off while I’ve always waited. Wondering if that time would be the time he agreed.

Just now, he’s said it on his own. Claimed me for himself. Sure, it’s only Alec standing here, but that’s not the point.

Rowan holds my gaze, and hope burns inside me.

Is he being real, or is this all for Alec’s benefit?

When I take a step toward Rowan, Alec takes a step toward me, his arm shooting out to capture mine.

Brows pulled in, I lift my eyes to his.

Alec takes one look at me, grits his teeth, and then shoulders past me. “Fuck your girl on your own time, Rowan. Not mine.”

Aaand he’s back.

I try not to let his comment upset me, but I can’t help the disappointment I feel as the door slams with his exit.

Rowan doesn’t say anything at first, just looks from the door to me. “Something goin’ on I should know about?”

I shake my head, my chest tightening as I do. Because, even though I have no reason for it, I feel guilty, like I did Rowan wrong.

“Why was he back here with you?”

My head tilts to the side, eyes narrowing. “Is this what you wanted to talk about?”

He stares before sighing and runs his hands down his face. “No.”

When he reaches for me, I allow him to pull me in and hold me tight.

All through high school, Rowan and I flirted on the edge of a relationship. He never dated seriously, and neither did I. I always took it as a sign, thinking, one day, we’d get there. One of us just had to cross that friendship line, but I was too chicken, and he never did. Yet here we are, two years out of high school, and still, I don’t know what his skin on mine feels like, his kiss. Nothing.

But something’s changed. I’ve felt it since the program started, things shifting. Rowan’s more touchy-feely than before, and he goes out of his way to be near me. He’s constantly checking in on me, and he texts me every night before he goes to bed.

Still, I can’t help but feel like he’s forcing himself. When he touches me, it feels anxiety-driven, almost out of worry. When he looks at me, it’s more in sadness than resolve.

Like right now, he whispers my name with such caution, wordlessly telling me not to read into this moment. It is, after all, a hug of apology. Not a craving for affection or the need to hold me close. Not him wanting to drown in my amber perfume or feel the way I fit against him.

I swallow my disappointment and accept my friend’s embrace for what it is.

“You don’t have to lie to me, Rowan. I’d prefer you say nothing rather than lie.”

“I know. I just …” He sighs and drops his arms from around me.

I step back and look to him. “You don’t have to explain. Really.”

He nods, sighs again, and wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling me under his arm and through the door. “Have lunch with me, Oaks.”

The defeat in his voice is too much, so I nod, allowing him to pull me through the hall and out the front, but something has me glancing behind me on our way out the door.

Alec is standing in his doorway, staring right at me.

His face holds no expression, but his eyes tell me more.

Alec Daniels might not hate me as much as he’d like me to believe.Chapter SixOakley“How’s my sister from another mister?”

I laugh into my phone. “Hey, Han. What’s up?”

“Nothing. Just had a free minute between rotations. Thought I’d try to catch my career-driven friend in the one hour a day she’s not working her ass into the ground.”

I roll my eyes, grabbing a few drinks from the fridge, and carry them into the living room.

“Oh, you know me. All work, all the time.”

“And that, my dearest Oakley, is your problem,” she teases, and I shake my head. “You need some play. And, when I say play, I’m not talking the way Rowan plays. Mind games and shit.”

I sigh. “Havannah—”

“Uh-uh. Don’t Havannah me. We bought our first box of Kotex together, bish, so before you feed me this but Rowan crap, remember, I’ve watched the chase. And I hate that you’re around him all day again. The progress I made this summer in my get Oakley to kick him to the curb plan is in jeopardy here.”