Chapter 28

Twenty-Eight

Kyleigh

Rowan walks me up to his apartment after Peeper's is closed, and I swear it's as if there's a butterfly exhibit in my stomach. It's full of flutters and excitement that I'm spending the night with him. But at the same time, there's a looming sense of loss on the horizon, knowing what I have to do tomorrow morning.

This is just one last night to remember him by.

I step in, and he shuts the door behind me. As usual, his arms wrap around me from behind. "I'm sure you must want a shower." He kisses the side of my neck.

"Are you offering to wash me?" I place my hand on the back of his head, not wanting his lips off my skin.

Tonight, I'm going to just go with all the signs of us becoming a couple. The lingering touches that aren't sexual. The sweet kisses. All the acts of intimacy. I'm going to enjoy them—just for tonight.

"That's my job."

I swallow deeply. This man.

"First, we need to get you undressed."

He steps back from me, reaching for the hem of my shirt before shedding it from my body and dropping it to the floor. Next, he undoes my bra, adding it to the pile. Reaching around me, he places light kisses along my shoulder while unbuttoning my jean shorts and lowering the zipper, pushing them down my hips.

Soon, I'm standing with my back to him, wearing only my underwear. I hear him moving behind me, and when his hands wrap around my stomach again, we're flesh to flesh, his hardening length pressing into my back.

"God, Rowan." There's so much I want to say to him, but I can't. Not yet.

"Let me live up to my promises." He walks us toward the bathroom, me in front of him, and I let him take control of my body.

He turns on the water in the shower, situates me in front of the counter and sinks to his knees. "I love the taste of your pussy. I think about it all the time." He brings his face to the apex of my thighs.

His fingers slide under the fabric on my hips, and he pulls my panties down my legs. I step out of them, and he leaves them at his side. Then he spreads me with his thumbs and french kisses my clit until I'm moaning.

He rises to his feet. Taking my hand again, he guides me into the shower. The water is warm, and the scent of his shampoo and soap fills the small space.

I'm not sure how long we're going to be able to stand naked and wash one another before we succumb to the need to have sex, but it feels nice as his hands work shampoo through my strands. Then I wash his hair. By the time we're on to the soap, our hands are slipping and sliding all over one another.

"I promised myself I'd control myself while we're in here," he says in a voice that tells me he's very close to breaking his promise.

I push him against the tiled wall. He slides his thigh between my legs, and I lean forward, kissing him. I grind along his muscled thigh, the friction on my clit tightening all the muscles in my core.

Steam fills the shower and his bathroom, and soon I can't take it anymore.

"Now. I need you right now."

He chuckles, leaving me in the shower to go grab a condom. He returns with one already on his dick, positions me so my back is on the wall, and lifts one leg around his waist before he plunges into me. It ends up being the best shower sex I've ever had.

A half hour later, I'm in his T-shirt and my underwear, snug in his bed, in his arms. I'm trying to force myself to stay awake so I can enjoy tonight as long as possible.

"Are you enjoying working at Peeper's?" he asks in the dark.

I shrug. "For the most part."

"I'm glad. The customers are nice to you?"

"Yeah. Though, I don't think a lot of them like the change of having me there. I guess they're a lot like Ruby in that way. But they've been polite. It's just boring having to refill beer after beer." I laugh because that's the only thing all the men there order.

"As long as you're happy. That's all that matters." His large palm rubs along my bare leg, his fingers slipping under the hem of his T-shirt.

I lift up off his chest, sitting cross-legged at his side. I can just make out his silhouette in the dark. "How was the endorsement thing? Tell me how it works."

He blows out a breath and stares at the ceiling. "It's kind of annoying. Just not my thing. Especially when there's the three of us. But it's done, and I guess now my face might be on a billboard."

"Oh, I think there's going to be a line of ladies climbing and risking their lives to kiss this beautiful face." I cradle his face with my hands and bend down to kiss him.

"You're the only one who gets the real thing."

My heart thumps double time. I pull back, and he doesn't look away.

"Leigh," he says, his hands sliding onto my cheeks.

My heart soars, but at the same time, bits and pieces are breaking off because if he's going to say what I think he's going to, I'd be so damn happy, but so undeserving at the same time. And I can't let him bear his soul to me when he doesn't know the truth.

The end is finally here.

My chest squeezes painfully. "Wait." I press my finger to his lips. "I have to tell you something. I?—"

I'm cut off by the sound of a blaring fire alarm.

"Shit." His palms fall from my face, and he rushes out of bed.

"Is that the fire alarm?" My body stiffens because I cannot leave this condo until I tell Rowan the secret I've been keeping. What if my brother is back from whatever he's doing and is in Tweetie's apartment?

"Yeah." He turns on his bedside lamp and disappears into his closet before returning wearing a pair of sweatpants, then he tosses me a hoodie. "Put this on."

I grab it and watch him throw on a T-shirt, not getting off the bed. Sirens blare outside, and panic flares inside me that this is a real fire, not one we can ignore and stay in bed.

"Leigh, come on!" He's all dressed and grabbing his wallet and phone from the nightstand.

I shake my head. "It's probably a false alarm. I don't want to leave the bed."

He stares at me for a second as though I'm batshit crazy.

Walking to the window that faces the street in his family room area, I can see the red lights of the fire engine.

"Not a false alarm," he says, coming up behind me, holding my purse. "Come on."

I take my time putting on the hoodie, trying to think of something I can say to avoid leaving this apartment until we know for sure that we have to. He says my name again.

"I'm coming."

Pounding on the door startles me. "Magic! Fire. Let's go."

Conor. Oh shit. My only saving grace was if they were still out, but that hope crashes to the ground like a paper airplane.

I pretend to be looking for something, which uses up the last of Rowan's patience. He comes over and picks me up firefighter-style. "Guess I'm carrying you."

"No! I can walk."

"When we get downstairs." He opens his apartment door, and I try to pull his sweatshirt down over my ass so I don't give everyone a glimpse.

I should've predicted Rowan wouldn't put me in a position for anyone to see my ass. He lowers me to the ground right before he opens the security gate. I quickly put the hood up over my head and stare at the ground, shielding myself from everyone as he leads me out onto the road by the hand.

"Is there really a fire?" he asks someone.

"Daddy, look at all the lights." Bodhi sounds so excited. I'm sure this is like a movie for him.

"Yeah, bud. Pretty cool," I hear Henry say.

I stay at Rowan's side, allowing him to shelter me with my arms around him, face buried in his chest. Refusing to look up, I try to stay as inconspicuous as possible.

"God, I just got into bed," Conor says.

I hold my breath for a beat because he sounds really close.

"Me too, and now I'm gonna be up all night," Tweetie adds.

"Daddy, they're getting the hose out!" Bodhi shouts with excitement.

"It's at Peeper's," Rowan says. "Fuck. We should call Ruby."

I look over, and sure enough, they're breaking through the windows to get into Peeper's with their big hose. All of the firefighters are in full gear. This fire is real.

I step forward, but Rowan tugs me back, thankfully.

"Leigh," Bodhi says, and I freeze. "Isn't this awesome? At first, I was scared." He stands right in front of me, his clear blue eyes filled with excitement only kids can have.

"It is," I whisper and run my hand over his messy bed head.

"Oh, shit, sorry, Leigh. With all the commotion, I didn't even think." Tweetie steps closer to me. "So…you two are having a sleepover, huh?" His laugh is drowned out by the sound of another fire truck barreling down the street toward us.

I give Tweetie a little wave and look back down, sliding closer to Rowan, allowing him to hold me at his side. Can the firefighters just finish this up so I can get the hell out of here?

"So, you're Landry's girl." Conor steps up to my side. "Be polite and do some introductions," he says to Rowan.

No. No. No. Not like this. I have no idea what to do or how I can possibly escape the collision I can see coming from a mile away.

"Oh right. Leigh, this is Conor Nilsen, our new goalie." Rowan backs up, positioning me to free me from his side, but I grip his shirt with my fist as though we're at the edge of a cliff.

"Shy one, I see. Didn't get that impression from everything I've heard."

I'd punch Conor in the face right now if I didn't want him to know it's me.

"Not usually." Rowan puts his hand over mine, untangling my fingers from his shirt.

I give a quick wave to Conor. "Nice to meet you," I say in a high-pitched girly voice that sounds fake.

"What happened to your voice?" Bodhi asks innocently.

Damn kids, do they have to comment on everything?

I'm sure everyone is looking at me as if I'm some alien trying to remain unnoticed, yet making myself so noticeable because of my behavior.

"You too." Conor's tone is the same one I've heard when he has an encounter with someone rude.

Great.

I watch his feet move away, but they stop and turn back around, coming closer. "Your tattoo."

Oh shit. Why didn't I put socks on? That would've been the smart thing to do.

"Funny, I know someone else with that exact same tattoo in the exact same spot."

I stare at his slide-covered feet. I think he's getting pedicures. I shake that thought from my head. Not the time.

"Oh yeah, who?" Rowan asks.

"No need to be embarrassed. Let's see the woman who finally tamed Rowan Landry?" Conor's stance widens, and he crosses his arms.

My stomach pitches.

"That's a little extreme. I didn't need to be tamed," Rowan says. He backs up to offer me the space to turn and look at Conor for a proper introduction.

"What the fuck, Ky?" Conor tugs the hoodie of the sweatshirt off my head and our matching brown eyes land on one another. There's rage in his and apology in mine.

"What the hell?" Rowan pushes Conor back by the chest. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Conor stumbles but recovers like the athlete he is. "Me? You're the one fucking my sister!"

Rowan's head whips in my direction, face pale. "What is he talking about?"

I open my mouth but am unable to form any words.

"Oh, snap!" Tweetie says with glee. "And the sidewalk show goes from Chicago Fire to the Maury Povich Show . You are the sister!"

Jesus, does this guy ever shut up?