Chapter 23
Ringside seat – to have a front row view of someone acting the fool
Igroan as I come awake. I try opening my eyes, but they’re apparently glued shut. I lift my eyebrows to force them open and pain shoots across my forehead. Ouch. Why does my mouth feel like I decided to eat a bag of cotton balls last night? Unfortunately, I know exactly how that feels. I really need to learn to stop saying yes anytime someone dares me to do something.
“There’s water and aspirin on the bedside table for you,” Rowan says, and I practically jolt at the sound of his gruff voice. Dang. I thought I was alone with my humiliation.
I use my fingers to force my eyes open before glancing in his direction to discover him sitting in one of the armchairs near the window alcove.
“What are you doing sitting over there? You scared me half to death.” My nose wrinkles when I notice a crumpled up blanket next to him. “Did you sleep on one of the chairs?”
He shrugs.
I roll my eyes. “You could have slept on the sofa. Or, you know, at the inn with the lovely Sandra.” My stomach nearly revolts at the idea of the word lovely and Sandra in the same sentence.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
I snort. “Dude, I’m not your little sister. You can stop with the making sure I’m okay thing.”
He frowns. “I don’t see you as a sister. I think I made that perfectly obvious the other night.”
Oh boy, did he. My body heats up and my nipples tighten as I remember how he showed me. But then he snuck out of bed without so much as a kiss to tell me he was going to work, and his ex-wife showed up to demand him back.
I infuse cheer into my voice I’m not feeling. “True story.”
He rubs a hand over his neck. “We need to talk.”
I turn away. “Nope. If you’re going to tell me I’m a mistake again, I’m not interested. Keep it to yourself.”
“I never said you were a mistake.”
“Me, the kiss, what difference does it make? It’s all the same.”
He kneels next to the bed. “There’s a big difference.”
I’m going to regret this, but I say the word anyway. “Explain.”
He grasps my hand, but I wrench out of his hold. I can’t handle him touching me. I’ll forgive him for just about any transgression if he’s touching me. When it comes to Rowan Aries Hansley, I’m easy.
He grunts but doesn’t speak. “Well?” I prod. No sense waiting to have my heart broken.
“First, I should apologize.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “If you apologize for taking advantage of me, I will throat punch you.” I wave my fist in the air. “Don’t tempt me.”
He drops his chin to his chest. “Um…”
I smack his shoulder. “Don’t underestimate me. You may have a freakishly strong neck, but it’ll still hurt when I punch you.”
I’m full of shit. My fist will have absolutely zero impact on his muscular neck. And what’s up with that anyway? Who has a muscular neck? Are there exercises to train neck muscles? I get my exercise the old-fashioned way – by stumbling home when I’m too drunk to drive. Although, it’s kind of a moot point since there aren’t many cars in Winter Falls anyway.
He lifts his hands up in surrender. “My freakishly strong neck?”
I indicate his neck with a wave of my hand. “Have you seen yourself in the mirror? It’s not normal to have muscles in your neck.”
He smirks. “Maybe it only appears muscular to you because your chicken neck is weak and skinny. I’m not sure how it manages to hold up your big head.”
I stick my tongue out at him. My head is not big. And a skinny neck isn’t bad. I think.