9. Shane

9

SHANE

“I thought tonight was going to be a holiday party,” I protested, my cheeks flushing red the moment Rowen laid eyes on me.

He was sitting in the driver’s seat of his car, outside my house, laughing at me.

Correction: he was trying not to laugh at me. It was very obvious from the way he was shoving his fist up against his lips, hiding a massive smile.

“I didn’t say it was a holiday party,” Rowen finally said, dropping his fist to reveal his wide smile. “I said you could come with me to a get-together and it could be a practice run for when we go to your Christmas party. But I didn’t expect…”

His eyes scanned over my outfit again.

I had gone all out.

I wasn’t just wearing a Christmas sweater.

I was wearing a Christmas sweater underneath light-up Christmas overalls, complete with little glowing LED multicolored lights that slowly blinked all around in a pattern on top of the fabric. I had a reindeer antler headband nestled in my hair, and I’d even put on my red sneakers to really tie the whole look together.

And now Rowen had shown up to pick me up wearing a simple black long-sleeve and jeans, and I realized the mistake I’d made.

“Let me go inside and change,” I said.

“No,” Rowen protested. “We’re already twenty minutes late. Get in the car. You look so fucking cute, Shane.”

“I can feel myself blushing on every inch of my body.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Even your cock is blushing?”

“Oh, shut up,” I said, but I was smiling as I finally pulled open the passenger side door to his car. “I can’t believe it’s not a holiday party.”

“It’s just some local theater people meeting up at the Hard Spot Saloon,” Rowen said. “I thought it would be good to act like we’re boyfriends and get more used to it before your family’s party.”

“Your theater friends are going to think I’m a Christmas freak.”

“You kind of are,” he said, “but I am, too. They’ll love it.”

Rowen had already started driving down the street, so I didn’t have the opportunity to jump out and demand to change clothes again. As we drove I got to watch the glow of the streetlights dance over his face, and already I felt myself slipping back under his trance again.

It had been about a week since Rowen had wrapped his lips around my cock and given me one of the hottest experiences of my life. I’d thought about it every night since. Hell, who am I kidding? I’d thought about it every day, about a billion times a day, ever since.

He was so hot it hurt .

And now I was going to this get-together with him dressed like I had put sticky tape all over myself and rolled around inside a Christmas decorations store.

“You sure we can’t turn around and I’ll go change my outfit?” I asked.

“Not going to happen. Because we’re already here.”

I bit my lip as we pulled into the Hard Spot parking lot. I’d just taken off my seat belt when Rowen leaned over, closing the distance between us.

He pressed his lips to mine in a kiss, without warning, and I gasped against him.

Suddenly my chest felt molten for a very different reason. I knew we were going in to practice being boyfriends, but I really hadn’t expected him to kiss me now .

“Sorry,” he murmured against my lips before turning his head to the side, kissing me deeply again. “I just really wanted to do that.”

I hummed. “You wanted to kiss me ever since you saw my ridiculous outfit, huh?”

His eyes met mine, the warm brown lit up by the street lamp outside. He squeezed my leg. “Let’s head inside, boyfriend.”

As we walked in, already I felt like I’d made a huge mistake. The rest of the people in the bar were dressed normally, to say the least. The Hard Spot was lively and bustling on a Friday night, with the jukebox rolling and even some people already dancing in the den area. But most of the people in here either looked like they were farmers off-duty, college kids letting off steam, or people on dates or in friend groups. I took a deep breath, following Rowen across the big room toward the alcoves lined with old built-in bookshelves.

“Fucking great outfit,” a woman said on the way, grinning up at me.

“Thank you.”

“Oh my God, amazing,” another girl said a few moments later, and then more of her group of friends turned to look at me with smiles.

And then, along the short walk through the bar, I was only met with more smiles and encouragement. One guy gave me a high-five, and another person asked where I got my overalls.

“See?” Rowen said when we reached the other end of the place. “You’re already like a minor celebrity here tonight.”

“Hey, Rowen,” someone called out to him from near one of the pool tables. I recognized her from the night I’d met Rowen—a brunette woman with her hair in a high ponytail.

“Julia,” he said, leaning in to give her a quick hug. “This is my boyfriend, Shane.”

Julia’s eyes went wide as she looked at me. “Oh! Wow,” she said. “Rowen, you didn’t tell me you were dating anyone here in Tennessee. Cool outfit, Shane.”

“I thought we were going to a holiday party,” I explained.

“Nah, this is just how he dresses every day,” Rowen said with a wicked grin.

Julia held up her hands. “Hey, no shame in that game, even if it were true. Come on over, I’ll introduce you to the rest of the gang.”

Four other people from their small local theater group were there. Rowen hadn’t even met one of the guys yet, and we sat down around a long table and shared a pitcher of beer, getting to know each other.

Every few minutes, Rowen leaned over and did some small thing that made us seem like boyfriends. He’d gently rub my back. Lean against me. Press a tiny kiss onto my temple. And with every little touch, I started to sink further into feeling like this was something real.

Like I was sitting here next to my person .

Which I knew should have been an off-limits feeling, but when I was surrounded by kind people, beer, and had Rowen at my side, how else could I even feel?

We started to get up and slowly cycle through playing rounds of pool with our little group and a nearby table of college guys who had challenged us to a few games. After Rowen easily creamed one of them in a quick game of 8-ball, he walked over to me, giving me a high-five with both hands before leaning in to kiss me.

“Nice job, babe,” I said as he leaned back, smiling at me.

I wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling him in close for another slow, gentle kiss.

“I think we’re doing really well, by the way,” he said quietly near my ear a moment later. I was still holding him close.

“I think so, too.”

He slid his arm around me as we watched a couple of other people from the theater group play a round of pool. For a while, Rowen made small talk with one of the guys, getting to know him a little better.

“It must have been wild out there in New York,” the guy said to him, whistling as he made eye contact. “I’ve heard some gnarly stories from my other friend who made her way out there.”

“It’s cutthroat,” Rowen said. “Sometimes I feel better off being away from that scene for a while.”

“Did you hear about that acting school in Manhattan?” the guy said, lifting his eyebrows at Rowen. “Soren something. Sorinelle, maybe? Two owners, a married older couple. I don’t know much else about it. But they swindled hundreds and hundreds of students out of money.”

Rowen just hummed in response, but someone else nearby nodded.

“Crooks,” the other guy said. “They’re in jail now.”

Rowen’s face was downcast, listening idly to the conversation the other two guys were having. All night, he’d seemed happy, almost a little blissful to be here with me and pretending to be boyfriends.

But now, his expression was stony.

He really didn’t seem to enjoy hearing things about New York.

My fears were confirmed a minute later when he slipped his arm off of my shoulders.

“Need a break,” he said, giving me a nod and heading off in the direction of the side patio of the bar. At this time of the year, it was cold enough that most people didn’t use the outdoor patio for longer than a few minutes.

Julia came over and offered to play a round of pool with me. Every couple of minutes, I found myself checking the side doors of the saloon, hoping that I’d see Rowen come back inside. But by the time Julia and I had finished, he still hadn’t come back inside.

I cleared my throat, setting my pool cue against the rack after Julia narrowly beat me in the game.

“Do you know much about what Rowen’s life was like back in New York?” I asked Julia.

She glanced up at me, a thoughtful expression on her face. “I don’t know anything about it, really. He didn’t seem to enjoy it.”

“Definitely not,” I said.

“Rowen’s only been in our little theater group for a short while,” she said. “He doesn’t talk about his life over there. I’m always busy, because I have a full-time job outside of acting.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a family and divorce lawyer,” Julia said.

My eyebrows shot up. “You’re a lawyer? ”

She just nodded casually. “I’ve always loved doing as much acting as I can in my free time, which isn’t very often. But I’ll never give up my passion.”

“Wow,” I said.

Julia smiled gently. “A lot of people come through our little theater group from all sorts of different backgrounds. I don’t pry. Rowen hasn’t seemed comfortable talking about much more than plays and movies, so I don’t ask.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “He’s been outside for a good twenty minutes now, and I know it’s chilly out there. I’m going to check on him.”

She nodded. “Give him hell, Shane. It’s been really nice getting to know you.”

“You, too,” I said.

When I stepped outside, I didn’t even see Rowen on the patio at first. I squinted out past a few empty tables to finally see him on the edge of the railing, leaning over and looking out toward the street.

“Hey,” I said gently, walking over.

He seemed surprised, turning quickly to see who it was. He lifted the heel of his palm to his cheek as if he was wiping away a tear, but if he’d actually had one, he did a great job of hiding it.

“I love that I can see you from a mile away with those light-up overalls,” he said, smiling softly as he looked me up and down. “So damn cute, Shane.”

“Are you okay, Rowen?” I asked, joining him against the railing of the deck.

I expected the same response as usual from him. Something about not wanting to talk about his past, or refusing to talk about New York.

Instead, he just sighed. I could see his breath in the cold air, and as we looked out toward the distant main street, I watched a traffic light change from red to green and yellow, then back again.

“I don’t miss New York,” he finally said, his voice strangely sad. “I don’t miss it, and that feels wrong.”

I furrowed my brow. “Why?”

He met my eyes, that same hollow sadness making its way to his gaze. “Because it was my dream for so long. My home for so long. I’m supposed to hate it here in Tennessee, but I don’t anymore. I’m loving it here more and more every day, and starting to dread going back to the city.”

I paused for a moment. “I mean, what’s wrong with that?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s… complicated.”

“Now here’s the part where you don’t want to talk about your life.”

“Yes,” he said, his tone sharper than I’d ever heard it.

His eyes were like fire now, burning right into me.

“Sorry, I—”

“I don’t want to talk about my life,” he said just as firmly. He really was upset—much more upset than I’d realized. “I’m never going to want to talk about it, and I can promise you that you are better off not hearing about it, okay, Shane?”

I felt like I’d just been rocked like a ship in a storm.

Pent-up frustration had just exploded out of Rowen like he’d been holding it back for a long time.

And of course, as usual, he wouldn’t tell me what it was even about.

“Fine,” I said. “Never tell me. After the Christmas party we can just go back to being strangers again, anyway.”

He was silent for a long while. With every passing second, my heart ached more, and I just wanted to take back every little thing I’d said.

I didn’t mean that.

I want to know you. So badly.

I never want to be strangers with you again.

But I found myself saying nothing. The quiet sounds of the street filtered up to fill the air, and the ambient music and laughter from the bar sometimes floated past the big glass doors on the patio.

Rowen and I said nothing, though.

He only broke the silence a couple of minutes later, pulling in a long breath. “I need to head home. If you want a ride, I’ll give you one.”

I just stared down at a row of hedges along the side of the building next door. “I’ll walk. It’s not far.”

He waited for a moment. “Are you sure about that? You’re not going to get too cold?”

“I like the cold. And I need the walk. Good night, Rowen.”

Inside, I was screaming. I wanted to connect with him. Wanted to feel even a shred of the same closeness that I felt when we were faking it.

But if he wasn’t going to give me even a little bit, I couldn’t force it out of him.

“Good night,” he said, and I felt something in my chest tensing up.

He walked away and I kept glancing up at him, watching his shrinking figure heading off, hoping he’d turn back. That he’d say he wanted to show me more about who he really was. To open up to me even the tiniest amount. Instead I watched him disappear, knowing more than ever that I had no control over the situation at all.

When I headed out a few minutes later, his car was gone.

A chilly breeze blew through my hair as I started on my own walk home, trying to puzzle through where everything had gone wrong. As I walked past more and more houses that had started to put up their Christmas lights and decorations, I knew what had happened.

I’d wanted too much.

The holiday season had grabbed hold of me already, making me wish that things could be different. When I was with Rowen—in our best moments—things felt special again. But it wasn’t real. Come January, all of this would be gone. The beautiful wreaths and lights and garlands, and him, too.

Everything good went away, it seemed.

By the time I made it back to my house, my heart felt like it was being cracked in two. I flipped the switch on the front of the house to turn on my Christmas lights, and the warm glow only did a little to make my sadness bittersweet. The holly branch tinsel sparkled on my front door. That had always been Gram’s favorite part.

Inside, I heated up some apple cider on the stove, mixed in a cinnamon stick, and tossed a nice glug of whiskey in it after I took it off the heat.

A knock at the front door sounded out right after I’d taken my first sip.

At first I thought I must have been imagining it. Wishful thinking, maybe.

Nobody ever came to see me, and if it was my sister, she certainly would have called beforehand.

But another knock came a moment later. I grabbed my mug and made my way over. My heart was somewhere near my throat as I swung the front door open.

Rowen looked like a fallen angel.

Again, I could tell he’d been crying, even though he was doing his best to put on a composed expression. His hair was whipped by the breeze, falling across his head in a swoop that should have been illegal for how attractive it made him look.

And those eyes. So genuine , even in moments where he wouldn’t tell me a damned thing about himself. Right now I swore I was looking right into his soul, and something in there was in deep pain.

“I know you probably don’t want to see me,” he started, his voice just a little hoarse. “But I can’t be back at that guest house right now, and the bar was making me crazy, and I don’t know all that many other places to go in this town—”

“I’m glad you’re here, Rowen,” I interjected, and I hoped he could tell that I meant it. “Just come inside. Please.”

“I don’t deserve a friend like you,” he said softly as he stepped inside.

Is that what we are?

Friends?

The whiskey was already hitting my blood, and I’d had about enough of not telling Rowen what was on my mind.

He didn’t have to be real with me.

But I was going to be real with him.

“Listen,” I said as I shut the door behind us. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I do know that you deserve happiness and friendship and whatever the fuck else you want in life. And I’ll be here, even if you don’t want to tell me shit about yourself—”

“I left New York because my parents are in prison,” he blurted out, standing beside my Christmas tree.

Pain was written all over his face, and in an instant I froze, tiny puzzle pieces starting to come together in my mind.

Rowen swallowed, running his fingers through his hair. “They embezzled. A lot. There was tax fraud. Those Sorinelle scumbags that the guy at the bar was talking about earlier tonight? That’s them . That’s me, Shane.”

His voice trembled on the last few words.

The puzzle was forming even more clearly in my mind now, and my heart was as heavy as an anvil.

“Rowen…”

“I didn’t want to tell you, because you’re the first person who has actually seemed to like me for me in such a long time,” he said. “I meet people often enough. But I haven’t felt like I feel with you. Even before the fucking scandal, people saw me as the silver spoon acting school kid, being fed success only due to my parents. And now… now I’m nothing. Worse than nothing. I’m hated for things I didn’t do.”

I shifted on my feet, taking in everything Rowen was saying.

I’d known he wasn’t telling me something, but I never could have imagined it would be something like this.

“I—I’d worried that maybe you had a secret life back in New York,” I whispered. “That you had a wife and a kid, or something. Or that you were just a player who wanted to keep everything separate from… from me.”

He puffed out a short, bitter laugh. “Nothing like that. I’m just a failure, plain and simple.”

I furrowed my brow. “How could you say that?” I asked, setting down my mug and taking a step closer to him. “How the hell is it your failing when you said yourself you didn’t know your parents were doing this?”

“Because my life’s dream is dead, because of them,” Rowen said, shrugging. “Nobody in the acting world believes that I’m innocent. They think I must have known. Must have been a part of it. And even if they don’t, they just don’t want the Sorinelle name attached to any project of theirs.”

I swallowed past a tightness in my throat.

I could see clearly what he must be going through. It was true—in the professional world, nobody wanted to be associated with a bad name, even if the person in question was as innocent and amazing as Rowen.

His life back in the city really was fucked.

“From the moment my parents were found out, I’ve felt this… empty feeling,” Rowen said a moment later. The quiet shake in his voice was audible again, and my heart felt like it was reaching out directly toward him. Aching to fix his problems, and knowing I couldn’t.

“I’ve felt empty a lot recently, too,” I whispered.

Day after day, it felt like things in the world were only getting worse, and there was nothing— nothing I could do to stop it.

“And for the last few weeks, with you,” Rowen said, “the only thing that has made me feel good is something that’s… fake.”

“ Fuck , Rowen.”

“I wanted to keep that magic alive for as long as I could,” he said. “To exist in a world where everything was okay. Walk around between holiday decorations with you, wearing scarves and ignoring the fact that my whole world fell apart.”

I felt a stray tear break off from my eye. There was a lump in my throat now, and as I held Rowen’s gaze, I saw the glassy look return to his eyes, too.

“My world fell apart, too,” I said. “Since my grandma died I’ve felt like I’m just treading water. Like nothing special would ever happen again.”

Rowen wiped away a tear on his cheek with the back of his hand, then reached out to brush mine away, too.

“I’m so sorry, Shane,” he said in a low voice.

“Thank you for telling me the truth,” I said. “I can see why you just didn’t want to bring that bad feeling into… what we’ve been doing.”

“Into our relationship,” he said.

I puffed out a laugh, pulling in a long breath of air afterward. “Our fake relationship.”

We held each other’s gaze, and a moment later, I felt Rowen’s hands connect with mine. He held my hands, giving them a gentle squeeze as he looked at me.

“So, now you know,” he said. “I’m screwed up. I’m not just some fun, flighty actor from New York without a care in the world.”

I swallowed. “And I’m not just a thoughtless, airheaded country boy next door, without any problems of my own.”

He bit his lower lip. “So our whole world is fucked up, and we don’t have a damn clue what to do about it.”

I nodded. “That’s exactly right.”

His gaze flitted down to my lips and back up to my eyes again. “Well, I can say one thing for sure,” he told me. “The fact that you haven’t kicked me out of your house—that you’re here with me, and here for me, makes a whole lot of difference.”

I frowned. “Why on Earth would I ever kick you out?”

“Because I was keeping things from you.”

“But you’re amazing, Rowen,” I said. “I understand. And if our world is shitty, then I feel a lot better being with you than being alone, that’s for sure.”

His hands squeezed mine a little harder. The Christmas lights behind him looked like a little halo, slightly blurred by the remnants of tears in my eyes.

“I feel better with you, too,” I said.

He closed the distance between us, and my heart pounded in my chest as he pressed his lips to mine.

And in this moment, I could tell that this kiss was real .

Neither of us had the answers. But right now, we had each other.

I pulled him closer, wrapping my arms around him, gripping him tight and kissing all along the side of his head.

Showing him that no matter who he “really was,” I wasn't going anywhere.

Not a chance in hell.