TWENTY ARABELLA

TWENTY

Arabella

I COME to a stop in the open doorway of the dining room, my gaze automatically going to Rowan like I can’t help myself. He looks utterly miserable and completely traumatized, and I hope I did that to him. I’m still not over what happened last night, though I know deep in my soul that I overreacted. Whipping my clothes off like that in front of him—what in the world possessed me?

He did. That’s who. And my own insecurities. I’ve been reduced to nothing for so long by the people who supposedly care about me the most, and I’m sick of it.

Over it.

Done.

Perhaps Rowan ended up in the crossfire of my emotions, but he’ll survive. This beautiful life he lives with his wonderful family will take care of him whether I’m in his world or not. We’re just two young teenagers who don’t know what the hell they’re doing, right? That’s what I feel like. A confused, hormonal mess who pitched a naked fit.

He probably thinks I’m too much. Too irrational, too impulsive. And if that’s the case? He was never the one for me. If he can’t handle me, maybe now is the time to realize and bail before he ends up breaking my heart …

Hmm, too late. I think he always had that power. I’m sure he doesn’t realize it though. He’s rather clueless.

“What are you two up to?” Crew Lancaster rises to his feet and heads straight for his wife, kissing her like he hasn’t seen her in weeks. “Your face is cold.”

“We were outside. Power walking.” Wren smiles at me. “I found Arabella about to leave the house for a run and offered to join her.”

“You don’t run, Birdy.” He slings his arm around his wife’s shoulders and pulls her into him, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You never really have.”

“I convinced her to walk instead.” Wren smiles up at him, and my heart is a crushed little pulp of dying flesh at seeing them so adorable together. I want that. I desperately, undeniably want it and I don’t know how to get it.

My gaze flicks to Rowan, who’s watching me with sympathy filling his pretty green eyes. Defeated, I look away from him and offer a weak smile to his father. “Yes, we walked. Though it was cold out there, I agree.”

“Freezing,” Wren adds.

“You weren’t trying to escape the house before everyone woke up?” Rowan asks me.

I glare at him. His dad scowls. And his mother automatically chastises him.

“Rowan, please. Don’t be rude to your guest.” She glances over at me with a smile. “Your Arabella is an absolute darling. We had a great conversation while we were walking. Plus, she told me a secret.”

Crap. I was hoping she would keep that secret.

“What kind of secret?” Rowan asks, curiosity filling his deep voice. Curiosity tinged with a healthy dose of fear because he’s probably terrified that I spilled my guts over what happened between us last night.

As if. I’m not that stupid.

“You’ll never believe it.” Wren steps away from her husband, clutching her hands together in front of her. “But she’s going to be celebrating a birthday while she’s here!”

“Oh.” That’s all he says, and I want to roll my eyes but restrain myself. It’s not like we’ve ever been close enough that he’s paid attention to my birthday before, but he could at least sound somewhat enthusiastic.

“Yes, Arabella is turning eighteen on Friday. The day after Thanksgiving. We should have a party. I already have plans to order her a cake and we’ll have a special dinner catered—”

“You don’t need to do that,” I say, feeling bad that I cut her off. When she frowns at me, I go on. “Seriously. My birthday is not that big of a deal. Besides, you barely know me.”

“Aw, Arabella. It’s not every day that someone turns eighteen.” Her voice is soft and her eyes are glowing, and I realize this is what it might be like if I had a mother who cared and wanted to do something for me like celebrate my eighteenth birthday. “It’s a special moment that should be celebrated.”

“I don’t need a party.”

“At the very least you should have birthday cake. With candles to blow out. And a nice dinner.” She drops her hands at her sides. “I would love to host that for you.”

“It’s okay. Really. I don’t need anything big—”

“It wouldn’t be big. Just a few family members invited over.”

“Mom, stop. She doesn’t want you to make a big deal about her birthday,” Row says, his voice firm.

Everyone goes silent. So quiet, I hear a clock ticking somewhere in the house, and God, the lack of sound is stifling. I feel awful. Worse that Rowan snapped at his mother in my defense. She was only being kind.

“You’re right. Of course.” Wren’s smile is small. I don’t think she liked that Rowan said that. “I understand. Let me know if you want anything special to eat on Friday,” she says to me before her husband escorts her out of the dining room, leaving us alone, much like we were only last night, when everything shifted and changed between us.

Now it’s shifted and changed again and we’re in a shit place where we’re both to blame for it.

“Your mom was just being nice,” I tell him. “She got excited when I told her it was my birthday.”

“Do you want a party though? You didn’t act like you did.”

I shrug. “I’m not used to that sort of thing anymore. My parents haven’t thrown me a birthday party in years.” And back when they did, it was only for their business associates and so they could get a write-off. It never had anything to do with me.

Rowan grimaces. “I probably shouldn’t say this, but your parents sound like the most selfish people ever.”

I laugh, though the sound is sad. “You’re right. They are.”

He rises to his feet, shoving his hands in his sweatpants’ pockets. He looks awkward and uncomfortable, and I know I have everything to do with that. “Look …”

“I shouldn’t have done what I did,” I say for him, needing to get it off my chest. He frowns but I forge on. “I was trying to start a fight.”

“You were?” He sounds surprised.

“Definitely. I was feeling vulnerable and unsure and I lashed out at you.”

“But I made you feel that way. So that’s on me.” He clears his throat. “I’m sorry.”

It feels like saying those two words took a lot out of him. I’m guessing Rowan Lancaster doesn’t apologize for much.

“Are we arguing about who’s at fault over last night? Because if we are, I have to take responsibility for encouraging you to come into my room.”

He appears taken aback by what I said. “I was feeling vulnerable too. You got me to confess something I haven’t admitted to anyone.”

“Not even your best friend?”

Rowan shakes his head, his dark hair falling across his forehead. “Not sure if you’ve noticed yet, but I keep a lot of things to myself.”

“I’ve noticed,” I whisper, hating the flicker of hope that lights my chest. Maybe I could get him to share more with me.

His smile is faint, making that flicker in my chest grow. “I was thinking …”

“That sounds dangerous,” I interrupt, teasing him.

“Yeah. It probably is. But maybe … we should each take on fifty percent of the burden from last night and call it even.”

“That might be a good idea.”

“Let’s start over then.” He pulls his hands out of his pockets and holds one out toward me. “Shake on it?”

I stare at his hand for a moment before lifting my gaze to his. “What exactly are we shaking on?”

“Resetting this … whatever it is we’re doing this week.”

“So you’re basically admitting you don’t know what we’re doing either.” There is something both reassuring and distressing in his admitting that.

“I don’t. But I don’t like that I upset you or hurt your feelings, Bells.” His expression turns grave. “I’m sorry.”

His second apology seems even more heartfelt. I can hear the sincerity in his voice. See it glowing in his eyes. He means it. And just like that, my heart cracks wide open, giving him all the room that he could ever need to slide right inside of it.

I take his offered hand and he yanks me toward him, slipping his arm around my shoulders and pressing his lips to my forehead, much like his dad did to his mom only minutes ago. I melt like the easy for Rowan Lancaster girl that I am.

“I’m an asshole,” he murmurs against my temple.

“You are.” I rest my hand against his chest, feeling his wildly beating heart beneath my palm. He’s nervous. This boy is a constant surprise. “I’m sorry too.”

“For stripping naked?”

I pull away slightly to stare into his eyes. “I don’t know. Was that a bad thing?”

“It was an … unexpected thing.” He’s chuckling, and the sound warms my battered and bruised soul. “But it definitely wasn’t a bad thing to witness.”

“Let’s just take this slow,” I tell him, and his laughter dies. “We don’t need to rush, do we? You said last night you didn’t want a relationship.”

“Is that what you want, Bells?”

“I … I don’t know.” I am a liar. I would say yes if he got on bended knee right now and asked me to marry him. I’m not even eighteen yet and I would run to the justice of the peace or whatever you call them and become his child bride. I am that enamored with this boy.

But I also don’t know him like I thought I did. He believes he’s peeling back my layers? I’m doing the same exact thing with him. There’s so much more for me to discover about him, and then there’s his family to consider too. I’ve not even been here for twenty-four hours and I’m already in love with all of them, especially his mother. She’s so sweet. I feel bad that he ran to my defense and shut down her willingness to throw me a party. Yet there’s also a part of me that loves that he did it because he could see I was uncomfortable.

It shows he pays attention to me, which doesn’t happen very often. I’m mostly forgotten by everyone.

“I need to take a shower.” I disentangle myself from his hold, immediately missing his warmth. A girl could get used to this sort of treatment, but that isn’t all I want from Rowan. Earnest apologies and hugs and promises are nice but they don’t mean anything if he can’t follow through. And I know what it’s like, dealing with someone like that. I’ve been promised lots of things throughout my life, only for those promises to almost always fall through.

Mainly from my parents.

Before I let Rowan back into my bed—I still can’t believe he was in my bed—I want proof of his undying loyalty to me.

After all, I deserve the world.