Still... I’ve had a good time the few times we’ve been out. We’ve never been at a loss for things to talk about, and while she tends to show more interest in herself that she does anything else, it’s not a bad way to spend my free time.
The best thing though, is that we are taking it slow and so far there have been no expectations to move this to anything deeper than some casual dates at this point. And that’s fine by me because while I’m doing exactly what Rowan suggested I do, I’m not exactly throwing one-hundred percent of my effort into it.
It’s kind of hard to do when you’re still stuck on someone else.
Walking over to the refrigerator, I open it and pull out a bottle of water, twisting the cap and drinking it down. I watch Rowan as I chug, and she’s staring a bit vacantly at her cup. She looks sad and lonely... which makes me sad, and I have to wonder if it is because I haven’t been around a lot lately? I have been picking up some overtime and I’ve had a few dates with Jennifer, so we definitely don’t hang as much as we used to. There’s also been a bit of an emotional distance between us since “that night” but because she clearly believes the friendship is the most important thing we have, I’ve been all for continuing that like we always have. It’s just I haven’t had much time lately.
“So anything new in your life?” I ask her.
She shakes her head and takes another sip of coffee. “No, not unless you count the fact that your cousin was even more of an asshole this week, and Capone threw up on my bed the other night, but other than that… it’s been pretty status quo.” She shoots me an impish grin and relief shoots through me like a lightning bolt. There’s a bit of the Rowan that I was looking for.
“Yeah, Nix has his mood swings. Just ignore him.”
“Hell no, I’m not ignoring him. I give it back to him tenfold.” She now gives me a smile that lights up the room and my heart swells. It’s an involuntary reaction I have to her.
I chuckle at the thought, and I know Rowan can take care of herself. “How’s Capone? Is he sick?”
Standing up from the table, she walks to the sink and dumps the remainder of her coffee. As she rinses the cup, she says, “Nah. I think he just ate too fast or something.”
The brief moment of humor that Rowan showed me just seconds ago is now gone, and her face looks blank again. She turns to walk out of the kitchen without another word, and something just doesn’t feel right to me. I’m exhausted and I know I should hit the sack for some sleep because I have another date with Jennifer tonight, but I can’t let Rowan walk away from me knowing that she’s very sad about something.
“Hey, Rowan,” I call out, and she stops to face me. “Want to go do something today? Maybe hit a museum or go do some touristy stuff?”
“Really?” she asks and her eyes spark. “Aren’t you exhausted?”
“No way,” I assure her, although I feel like I could drop into a deep slumber right on the kitchen floor. “Besides, it’s been too long since we’ve hung out together.”
And it has been way too long. I step up to her and put an arm around her shoulder, giving her a quick squeeze. She actually leans into me and even after I release her, she doesn’t move back right away.
“Okay,” she says as she finally steps back and I’m overjoyed to see her eyes are sparkling with light now.
Just like that... Rowan is back, and I know for a fact that she has been missing me. I fight to keep the feeling of elation I’m feeling down, because surely that doesn’t mean that she wants me for more than a friendship, right? Surely, it can only mean that we’ve both been busy and haven’t spent any time together.
We are missing our friendship. That’s what it must mean.
Still... I wonder.
After some debating over what to do with our day, we decide to head over to Museum Mile and hit the Met. Rowan has never been before and I figure on this chilly November day that it’s warm and fairly quiet, and we can just hang out.
We take our time as we travel through the various galleries. Neither one of us are the type to seriously study a painting, but we do at least move past each one and give it more than a cursory glance. We could spend months in the Met if we wanted to study everything but I wanted to give her a taste of it all.
We make idle chitchat when we can, but for the most part, we are silently enjoying the art.
As we walk among some Spanish Renaissance pieces, Rowan stops before a painting and studies it a bit longer. I hold up and wait for her but she doesn’t move, so I walk the few steps back to stand beside her.
She’s gazing at El Greco’s View of Toledo. I’ve never seen it before, or if I have, I’ve forgotten it, but it’s quite beautiful with its dark storm clouds shadowing the lush, green hills, and the medieval city of Toledo, Spain in the distance. The more I look at it, the more I can see why Rowan is taken with it. It’s both peaceful and edgy, which is a good way to describe Rowan.
“It’s old,” she says quietly.
Peering at the placard beside it, I see it was painted over four hundred years ago. But so have many of the paintings we’ve seen so I don’t understand the significance of her statement.
“I can’t imagine what it takes to preserve something this... special.”
There’s something about the tone of her voice that is haunting and I turn my eyes to her. Her profile is so fucking beautiful. Her lashes are long and lay like whispers on her cheeks, and her nose has just the slightest tilt upward that gives her that pixie look.
“I imagine a lot of techniques have been learned over the years,” I muse, turning my gaze back to the painting.
“I imagine it takes a lot of hard work. I bet there’s painstaking focus on the details.”
I nod. “If it wasn’t hard, then it wouldn’t be so treasured.”
She turns her head and I meet her gaze. She looks at me thoughtfully for a moment before she says, “Exactly.”
Rowan turns and walks on to the next painting, and I’m not quite sure if we were just talking about art or something else.
We decide to eat a late lunch in the cafeteria at the Met, which has a surprising array of food. I choose a pastrami sandwich and Rowan tries their sushi, which I’m a bit dubious about eating from a cafeteria. She swears it’s good after she takes the first bite and offers me some, but I decline. I’m not about to get food poisoning.
Her mood does seem to be lighter though, and after I decline her offer of sushi, she demands I give her a bite of my sandwich. I laugh and willingly hand it over to her, watching as she takes a huge bite.
She only chews twice and then she closes her eyes in rapture and lets out a moan. She clearly thinks the sandwich is amazing but damn if the sound she makes doesn’t cause a surge of lust to drive through me. I thought I had made it past these feelings, but apparently not. I watch as she finishes the bite, giving a final swipe of her lips with her tongue, and I realize I am no further removed from my feelings for Rowan than I was right at the moment I first sunk my finger into her while she was pressed up against my door.
The image of that night flashes hot in my brain and I take a deep breath to move past it.
“Is something wrong?” Rowan asks.
I drag my gaze to hers and shake my head. “No. I’m good.”
I’m anything but.
I still fucking want a woman that doesn’t want me the same way. I decide a change of subject is order.
“So, what are your plans the rest of the weekend?” I ask her. I have four glorious days off and I have no clue what I’m going to do for all of it.