viewpoints.”
I blink my eyes hard, still a little under his spell, and offer him a smile. He gives me one back that is sad and understanding all at once. To lighten the mood, he takes my hand, tucks it into the crook of his arm, and starts walking again. My feet have no choice but to move and keep up with him. He starts chattering about his Fantasy Football League... something innocuous that will make my mind... my heart... my body, forget about “The Happening”.
He is always looking out for me.
My heart swells up, huge and pulsing, with Technicolor love for him.
Yes... I love Flynn. He is my dearest friend in all the world.
And I will have to be satisfied with that.
“Whatcha doing?” Flynn asks as he plops down on the couch beside me. I have his laptop open and he leans in to look at the screen. It never even occurs to me to hide what I’m doing so I turn it a little so he can see it better.
“I’m doing a torture session.”
He just looks at me with one eyebrow raised.
Turning the laptop back toward me so I can type, I enter in new search terms, and when the results are displayed, I turn the screen toward him. I watch as he skims his eyes down the screen, and I notice how long and thick his lashes are from this angle. Why I never noticed it before is beyond me.
“Who’s John Cleeden?”
I click on the article about the charity donation and when the picture appears, I point at it. “Meet my mom and dad.”
Flynn’s head snaps toward me and his eyes are soft as he holds my gaze. I give him a quick smile and point back toward the screen.
He reads the entire article and then looks back to me. “John and Susan Cleeden? Where does Page come from?”
“Rowan Page isn’t my real name. It’s Anne Marie Cleeden.”
“You’re kidding?”
“Nope.”
He surveys me closely and even runs his eyes down my body. I can’t help the tingle of awareness that his gaze brings upon me, even though his look isn’t sexual at all. “You don’t look like an Anne Marie,” he muses.
“And I’m not. My name is Rowan Page now.”
“When did you change it?”
“The minute I stepped on the bus that brought me to New York.”
“But when did you change it legally?”
“I haven’t... never needed to.”
“Seriously?”
“Yup.”
“How do you get anything done? You don’t have a social security number. How do you pay taxes? Or rent an apartment? Have a bank account? How do you even get a driver’s license for that matter?”
I’m so enjoying this. The look on Flynn’s face is a mixture of comedic horror and respect. “Well... I’ve never paid taxes as I’m always paid in cash, including by your dear cousin, Nix. I’ve never had to sign an apartment lease because the lease has never been in my name and I’ve never needed a bank account because I’ve always paid my roommates just my share of expenses. Oh, and I don’t have a driver’s license.”
“You don’t have a driver’s license?” he asks in disbelief.
“I don’t have a driver’s license... at least not in Rowan Page’s name,” I confirm.
“But... you drive my car.” He cracks me up because he actually sounds a little affronted.
“Lighten up, serious sally. I haven’t been caught, have I? Besides... I technically have a valid Texas license. I just think I may have been required to get a New York license after I moved here.”
I shrug my shoulders. Oh, well.
“Criminal!” he accuses me with a pointing finger. “I’m living with a criminal.”
I start laughing and assure him with concession, “I know... I really do need to get it done legally at some point. I even got my birth certificate last year just for that reason. I just never got around to doing it.”
Flynn is shaking his head in disbelief and wonder. “You are unbelievable, do you know that?”
I close the laptop and lay it on the coffee table. Curling my feet up underneath of me, I turn to face him. “Is that a good unbelievable or a bad unbelievable?”
“It’s a good unbelievable. A crazy, wonderful unbelievable. You’re not exactly the most law-abiding citizen, but you are amazingly inconceivable and I love that about you.”
The blood in my veins sings out with happiness over Flynn’s compliment. My heart does a mad dance that he used the “L” word. Peace settles in my heart that I don’t have to fight for his attention. That he finds true interest in me, and he likes what he sees.
I know I’m not perfect, and I know I’ve done things that aren’t admirable in the past, but I try to do good. I try to live my life without intentionally hurting others. It would be natural to expect some people to look at me with some measure of disgust because I haven’t paid taxes, or because I drive without a license.
But not Flynn. He doesn’t admire that behavior but he does admire and like the way I have survived. I’m finally getting validation from someone that I am more than what my father ever believed I would amount to.
Flynn is staring at me with genuine affection twinkling in his eyes. I want to reach my hand out and ruffle his hair with my fingers, trail them down his temple and feel the scruff of his beard along my nerve endings.
I’m in danger of falling prey to “The Happening”, and if I do, I am in danger of falling hard for Flynn. I want it...
I need space and I start to stand up. Flynn’s hand jets out and grabs a hold of my fingertips. “Hey, there was something I wanted to talk to you about.”
His face is so serious that my stomach flips. Oh, God... is he kicking me out? Did I do something wrong?
I lower my butt slowly to the couch, afraid of the words that will come out of his mouth once I get settled in. It reminds me of the time that I was trying to teach Capone how to sit. He was so stubborn and didn’t want to do it at first. He would lower his butt to the floor at the speed of molasses, staring at me intently. It’s like he was waiting to see if I would change my mind before ass met linoleum.
I feel that way now. Maybe Flynn will release my hand and change his mind before my butt hits the cushion.
But no such luck. I sink down and Flynn gives my hand a quick squeeze before he lets go. He angles his body more toward me and flips his arm over the back of the couch.
“So...” he says slow and drawn out, which tells me that he’s nervous. “You know Nix and Em are getting married over Christmas in St. John, right?”
“Duh... it’s all she talks about when I’m around her. Which reminds me... I better start looking for a gift for them.”
“Well... you know it’s just for family, but since I’m the only single person attending, Nix and Em said I could invite someone. I was kind of hoping you’d come with me to the wedding.”
I know I heard Flynn wrong because I just stare at him, my mouth hanging open. This is wrong on so many levels, but mainly because the minute he invited me, a freakin’ fantasy image of him and me kissing on a sandy beach flashed through my mind.
Before I can answer, Flynn says, “And I’m only talking about as friends. I actually thought about asking Tim if he wanted to go... you know, get away for a quick vacation, but then I remembered he’d never leave Sam on Christmas. So I thought about you... because next to Tim... you’re my closest friend.”
Flynn’s words hit the mark and cause me pain at the same time. I’m happy to know he was only asking as a
