Scott and I have fallen into a comfortable pattern as the weeks go by. He’s consistent with sending drawings every week, and I’m equally reliable at texting him first almost every day.
But on the rare occasions Scott messages me first, I’m hit with a wave of giddiness. And today, he breaks my happiness meter with a single message alone.
Scott: I saw this and thought of you.
My heart races in my chest, betraying exactly how I feel about Scott thinking about me. I open up the link he sent of a Buzzfeed quiz.
A Which Character From Pride and Prejudice Are You Most Like quiz.
I swear I almost fall out of my chair from swooning so hard. There’s no way he happened to come across this on his own. He must have outright been searching for a conversation starter and thought this was a good option.
I grin as I type up a response.
Me: Did you take it?
Scott: Maybe.
Me: WHO DID YOU GET?
Scott: You want the truth or a lie?
Me: Always the truth.
His text takes a whole ten minutes. I’m afraid I scared him off with my response, but he comes back with a message I wasn’t expecting.
Scott: Elizabeth Bennet.
I curl over and laugh until my voice turns hoarse.
Me: Honestly, she’s the best character.
Scott: She’s a woman.
Me: She’s more than JUST a woman.
Scott: Obviously or else there wouldn’t be seventeen versions of her story.
Scott: Although I’m partial to 2005 Lizzy.
My cheeks ache from smiling so hard.
Me: You’ve been watching the movies?!
Scott: Yes.
Scott: But tell a single soul and I’ll find your HP address.
I smile at his attempt at a joke.
Me: Was that a joke?
Scott: If you need to ask, then I failed.
I release a heavy laugh.
Me: I’m only teasing.
I want to pull more information from him. No normal man watches Pride and Prejudice without some ulterior motives, and I have a feeling why.
Me: Why did you watch the movie?
The dots come and go over and over again before his next message appears.
Scott: I was interested in dissecting it from a purely scientific standpoint.
Me: You’re such a nerd.
Seriously, based on the few facts Scott has shared, I’ve come to picture him as a hot one. I mean the man still has a subscription to National Geographic magazine and watches Jeopardy religiously before bed. If he didn’t drop a few pop culture references and have the same kind of music taste as me, I would’ve thought I was being catfished by a senior citizen. I’m pretty aware that’s still an option on the table, but I’m holding out for the right moment to pressure Scott into meeting me. And today’s conversation is the perfect start.
Me: Did you come to any conclusions?
His reply is instantaneous.
Scott: Yes. You’re just as crazy as I had thought.
Scott: But it’s bordering on slightly endearing.
In other words, that’s practically a compliment coming from him. The warmth in my chest spreads through my body like a wildfire.
I spend the rest of my day thinking about my conversation with Scott. It’s hard not to jump to conclusions about it all, but why else would he watch my favorite movies? All seventeen versions of them?
I think Scott might like me. If only he had enough courage like Lizzy to face me.
Maybe one day.
If there’s one thing no one should look good wearing, it’s bowling shoes. But of course the man who wears thousand-dollar suits can make clown shoes look designer. When Ani suggested bowling as our first group mentorship activity, I agreed wholeheartedly. I thought a bowling alley would make Rowan uncomfortable enough to drop out of the program.
My assumptions were proven wrong the moment Rowan showed up an hour ago with a custom ball and shoes. I’m ninety percent sure he probably bought them at the bowling alley’s store because he couldn’t bear the idea of sharing anything with the general population.
I spent an hour hoping he slipped up so I could have the opportunity to prove my other assumptions correct. There’s no way he could be genuinely interested in participating in my pilot program. Right?
Wrong. One hundred and ten percent wrong.
Rowan is completely different from what I expected. Although he might still be the Burberry polo-shirt-wearing prep, he’s nice to my sister and her boyfriend. And it makes me feel all sorts of things.
Ani drops into the plastic seat next to me. “So, Rowan’s cute.”
I shoot her a withering glare. “Stop.”
A weird feeling sits in the pit of my stomach at the idea of finding Rowan cute. It feels wrong to be interested in him while also feeling a pull toward Scott—like I’m playing around. It adds to the growing nausea every time I find myself zoning in on Rowan tonight.
It’s wrong to be attracted to my boss, but it’s despicable to be interested in two guys at the same time. I’d never want to intentionally hurt anyone like that after everything I’ve been through.
“But look at him teaching JP how to bowl.” She points at both men standing side by side.
Trust me, Ani. That’s all I’ve been doing.
Rowan demonstrates how to properly launch a bowling ball and JP copies the movement. I’m still not bored after watching them for the last hour.
I shake my head. “Not happening, so whatever you’re planning, stop it.”
“I’m not planning anything.”
“You bring him up during every conversation we have.”
She smiles. “I like him.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to.”
“But you like everyone!”
I wince. “Not this one.”
“Yeah, right. You blush anytime he looks at you.”
“No, I don’t!”
She pushes my shoulder. “Do too!”
“Why are you staring at me like a creep anyway?”
“Because it’s funny. Rowan gets all nervous too.”
“Oh, really?” I blame my mother for teaching Ani to believe in fairy dust and fairy tales from a young age.
She taught you the same.
“What else do you notice?”
“I thought you didn’t like him?” She raises one sassy brow at me.
I end up laughing at the expression on her face. Rowan’s eyes connect with mine, sending goosebumps across my skin. He refocuses his attention on JP right before he almost drops the ball on Rowan’s foot. Together, with Rowan’s help, JP launches the bowling ball down the lane.
Pins crash in front of us. Ani jumps up and claps her hands as JP dances in place. A hint of a smile graces Rowan’s lips before disappearing. JP pulls Ani into his arms and gives her a kiss on the cheek. It makes my heart melt all over the sticky linoleum floor.
The back of my neck tingles and I look over to find Rowan staring at me. “What?”
His brows pull together. “Nothing.”
“Your turn, Zahra!” Ani calls out. “Hurry up. We only have thirty minutes left before our time runs out.”
I grab my pink bowling ball off the rack and throw it. It rolls forward before veering off straight into the gutter, resulting in zero pins.
“Your wrist is twisting right before you throw it.” Rowan speaks behind me.
I turn on my heel. “And you’re a bowling expert all of a sudden?”
He shrugs. “I played varsity.”
The seriousness of his voice has me curling over and laughing. By the time I stop, I find Rowan’s face guarded as ever.
“What?” I frown.
“Forget I offered to help.” He turns on his heel and takes a seat next to JP.
Oh God. Was he being serious? I didn’t even know there were bowling teams. My stomach takes a dive into dangerous territory, and my cheeks turn hot at the idea of embarrassing him.
What if he was really trying to help me?
If so, then you just grabbed his olive branch and snapped it in half right in front of his face.
I try to fix my wrist like Rowan suggested but my ball only ends up in the gutter again. Ani laughs as she gets up for her turn. JP follows her like always, leaving me alone with Rowan.
“So, varsity, huh?” I try to break the ice as I take the seat next to him.
His crossed arms flex. “I can guarantee that your jokes will be nothing new to me.”
I playfully shove him with my shoulder but his body doesn’t budge. “I’m sorry. It was a shitty thing to laugh at.”
“It was.”
“I wasn’t laughing at you.”
He glares and I laugh to myself again. The sound only makes him scowl harder to himself.
I raise both hands in submission. “Okay, I was laughing at the situation, but to be fair, I didn’t even know there was such a thing as varsity bowling.”
“Don’t beat yourself up too much over it. I’ve dealt with worse.”
Like what?! I want to learn all about the grumpy guy who played varsity bowling and joins a mentorship program for people with disabilities despite being incredibly busy. There’s more to Rowan than meets the eye, and I’m dying to learn all about this new side of him I never knew existed.
There’s this strange, albeit microscopic, part of me that wants to shield him from dealing with worse, whatever that means.
Whoa. Where did that thought come from?
Abort. “It’s kind of cool. Women love letterman jackets.”
“I valued my reputation far too much to wear that jacket at school.”
“Why?”
“Because I only joined the team to spite my father. He never specified which team I should join, so I liked beating him at his own game.”
I blink at his personal admission.
He continues on the same breath as if he might stop speaking if he takes a second longer. “He was pissed I never made it past any of the ‘real sports’ team tryouts like my brothers. While Declan was the school quarterback and Cal was the team captain of his hockey team, I was…lacking.” He clears his throat. “According to my father, that is.”
My heart clenches in my chest for the boy who struggled to live up to his father’s expectations. Rowan might be rich, but he struggles with the same kind of issues the rest of us do. Parental expectations. Personal failures.
I want to ease the tension from his shoulders. “You’re telling me you couldn’t buy your way onto the bench?” I fake gasp.
“You’re catching onto how things work.” The corner of his lip lifts. “On the contrary. I paid the coaches to keep me off those teams.”
“Why? I’ve never heard of anyone trying that.”
“I had no interest in being labeled a benchwarmer.”
“You were that bad?”
“Yes.” The lightest shade of pink floods his cheeks and I find it kind of cute.
Cute? Ugh, Zahra. No.
“I’m kind of loving the fact that you’re not the best at everything.”
He shakes his head. “One thing, Zahra. One.”
“So did you win a bowling championship?” I grin.
Rowan’s tense shoulders drop an inch. “I don’t lose. Ever.”
“Your cockiness knows no bounds.”
Rowan says nothing but the smile on his face speaks volumes. It’s stiff, like he hasn’t practiced the movement in quite some time. I’m tempted to touch it to make sure I’m not hallucinating but I keep my hands to my sides.
I shouldn’t find it as endearing as I do. And I most definitely shouldn’t crave more of that stupid, timid smile.
During my next turn, I call out Rowan’s name. “Will you help me, please? I’ve been told by an expert that I twist my wrist.”
His small smile makes a reappearance. I want to do everything in my power to make him smile like that again. Now that I know a little bit about the kind of guy who hides behind suits made of armor, I’m interested in discovering more about him. Consequences be damned.
He walks with a sense of self-assuredness that screams I have a big dick and I know how to use it.
Don’t think about his dick.
Rowan grabs his ball off the rack and keeps enough room for Jesus between us. I’m disappointed this isn’t like the movies.
“So, this is the way you’re swinging your ball.” He rears his arm back, making it twist at an odd diagonal angle. “Which makes your follow through curve to the side and head straight toward the gutter.” He demonstrates the way my arm swings like a pendulum in the opposite direction. I try my best not to focus on his veins as he shows me the correct positioning, but I’m a lost cause to the way his body moves.
“You try.” He pulls me away from my thoughts.
I attempt whatever swing he did and fail based on how his eyes lighten.
“No. Let me help you.” He puts down his ball and stands behind me. The body heat coming off him makes my whole spine warm.
Now this is what I’m talking about.
His hand grazes my arm before circling my wrist like a cuff. He holds on to it with the softest touch that has my heart pounding in my chest and my breathing turning erratic.
Seriously, he’s holding your wrist. Come on!
His husky voice is nothing but a whisper in my ear, yet I feel it straight to my core. “Try again.”
I move my arm backward. Rowan’s fingers remain locked around my wrist, guiding me through the correct follow-through. He repeats the motion a few times.
“Now you try by yourself.” He drags his fingers up my arm again before they disappear.
I pout at their loss since he can’t see me, and I mess up my swing on purpose because I’m petty.
“No, but you were better this time.” He shakes his head and lets out a low laugh.
I’m rewarded with the return of his hand holding on to my wrist as he shows me yet again. That time when he lets go, I try for real. My effort is rewarded with one of his small smiles.
“Perfect. Just like that. Okay, now you try once more.” He motions toward the lane.
I take a few steps forward and replicate the motion he taught me. The bowling ball launches out of my hand and rolls straight down the waxed floor, following the path of the tiny arrows.
I suck in a breath as my ball collides with the front pins, making some fly while others roll in opposite directions. Every single pin drops, and a red X lights up above the empty area.
I scream and run straight back to Rowan, who stares at my knocked-over pins. “I did it! I did it!”
He freezes as I wrap my arms around his waist. The fast beat of his heart is hard to miss despite the loud music and crashing pins.
His arms remain plastered to his side like he doesn’t know how to give someone a hug back. It only makes me laugh into his chest.
“Come on, you two! We’re almost out of time already!” my sister calls out.
I snap out of the moment and jump away from Rowan. His face remains blank, but I know how his body reacts when I touch him.
And it feels pretty good to make someone like him nervous.
