“No.” Fionn glares at Rose and then Rowan before shifting his attention to me, his expression taking on an apologetic quality. “I’m sorry. Under normal circumstances, definitely. But that prick over there,” he says, hooking a thumb toward Rowan, “he’s going to make my life hell for the nickname thing until he gets it out of his system. I need sleep at night. And so do you. In fact, you should probably take a couple of weeks off work until you’re out of the sling.”
“I’ve still got another week of vacation,” I reply. “I haven’t taken a sick day in almost two years, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”
“I’m going to write you a doctor’s note anyway, just in case. I want you to wear the sling as much as you can. And schedule some time with a physical therapist. No heavy lifting, no sports,” he says as he darts a pointed look to Rowan. When Fionn’s gaze returns to me, his brow furrows with worry. “Do you have someone who can help you at home if you need it?”
“She does,” Rowan replies before I have a chance to even mention Lark’s name. “She’s got me.”
My gaze bounces between Rowan and his brother. Disbelief and nerves and excitement twine together like rope in my chest. “You’re coming to Raleigh?”
Rowan sets his coffee on the counter. His blue eyes hold mine, the shade of the deep sea beneath the sun. There’s no teasing smile to light his skin, no amused smirk that dances across his lips when steps closer and stops in front of me. He watches the motion of his fingers as they trace the contours of my cheek.
The rest of the world falls away.
“No, Sloane,” he says. “I’m taking you home. To Boston.”
19
RESERVATIONS
SLOANE
“O h my God. It’s you.”
I look to my right where Lark stands at my side, expecting that this is probably a fangirl moment. Lark might be signed with a smaller indie record label, but she still has a significant following and it wouldn’t be the first time she was recognized while we were out together.
But when I return my gaze to Meg the Hostess, she’s staring straight back at me.
Flame engulfs my cheeks. “Umm…hi…？”
“I’m so sorry. When you came the last time, I totally got sidetracked and forgot to tell Rowan.” Meg’s pretty blue eyes widen as she shakes her head. “I still feel terrible.”
“Well, I hadn’t made a reservation, so you have nothing to apologize for.”
“But you have a standing reservation at 3 In Coach,” Meg says with a sweet, knowing smile. She pulls a thumbtack from her podium and passes me a sheet of paper.
Table twelve is PERMANENTLY RESERVED for:
- any reservation under the name Sloane Sutherland
- a beautiful, black-haired woman with hazel eyes and freckles, 5’8”， probably alone, shy, looks like she wants to run
Inform Rowan immediately of any reservations under this name or any guests fitting this description.
And then, in red text as though it was added at a later date:
IMMEDIATELY. I AM NOT FUCKING AROUND.
The word ‘IMMEDIATELY’ is underlined six times.
“That’s so cute,” Lark says as she lays her chin on my shoulder and reads the note, pointing to the red text. “It sounds like he’s going to cut people up for you. That’s so Keanu-mantic.”
I snort a laugh as I pass the paper back to Meg. “First of all, Keanu–mantic is so not a word. Secondly, Keanu doesn’t cut people up in a red-flag romantic kind of way.”
“He does in John Wick.”
“Sure. For a dog. I wouldn’t call that romance, Lark.”
Lark shrugs before she beams a smile at Meg. “Table for two, please, for Sloane Sutherland, black-haired, freckled, 5’8” beauty who looks like she wants to run.”
Meg takes two menus from her podium and grins as she motions us forward. “Follow me. I’ll let the Chef know you’re here as soon as you’re seated.”
Lark squeaks and grips my wrist as we follow Meg to the booth I sat in the last time I was here over a year ago. She can probably feel my pulse hammering into her hand. I stayed with Rowan for two weeks after extending my time off from work as Fionn had recommended. And those two weeks with Rowan just weren’t enough.
My body was still bruised and sore when I left for Raleigh to pack up my things and rent out my furnished house. I made arrangements at work to go fully home-based, and spent my evenings and weekends dismantling my storage container kill room that I’ve barely used since we started this game. It’s been three weeks since I saw Rowan, and my heart is nearly ready to burst through my chest as the seconds tick down to the end of our separation.