“It’s a family name. And Lauren is a unisex name!”
“That explains it.” I roll my eyes, bending over to clean up my mess. I want to get out of this house as soon as possible.
“Explains what?”
“The boobs,” I slide my eyes down his very firm, in shape pectoral muscles. They’re far from womanly, but I still want to give him crap for it.
“I do not,” he snatches the spoon from my hand and tries to see his own reflection in it, twisting and turning his chest in the small curvature of the spoon.
I giggle, covering my mouth with my hand to muffle it with my shirt sleeve.
He tosses the spoon back in my bowl. “Jerk. I’ll have you know these pecs are hard earned. Five times a week, an hour a day.”
“Impressive.”
“I know,” he singsongs.
“Let’s go, Gray,” Rowan cuts in. “We have a meeting with the construction company. Congrats on the wedding.” He doesn’t bother looking at me as he walks around the counter, giving me a wide berth.
It’s different this time though. His expression seems guilty, instead of hateful. He did something. I know that look. I want to ask so bad, but considering I’m still not sure how he’ll react, it’s probably best if I keep my distance.
“Alright, everyone. I’m heading out. I have a plane to catch soon.” I wash out my bowl and lay it in the dishwasher. “Good luck with your construction, guys,” I tell the boys, and turn to my mom, “I love you, mom. I’m happy for you.”
Deep down, I really am glad that she found love. She deserves it after my dad died. I just wish I could find love, too. So, I can put the man I’m now apparently related to in the past.
“Wait, you’re leaving? Already? Your break just barely started,” Rowan frowns, taking a step forward.
“I love you too, sweetie. Tell me when you get back to New York, okay?” she kisses me on the cheek and grabs her mug before walking down the hall and to Mr. Michaels’ office. I shudder, thinking about what they might do in there. Gross.
I let out a large exhale after my mom leaves the room and run my finger along the granite countertop. I make sure not to look at him because I know I’ll end up staying if I get one glimpse of those crystalline blue eyes I love so much.
“Yes. I had to move my flight up. I have some things to take care of, and I need to get back and get settled before classes start again. I wish you guys luck. It’s really great what’s happening for you. I’m proud of you, Rowan. It was nice to meet you, Gray,” my voice hitches as emotion burns my eyes from how bad I want to hug the man I love. “I need to go.”
I flee down the hall and grab onto the railing as I swing myself around to climb up the steps. Once I’m out of their sight, I let out the sob that’s been strangling my chest for the last few days. The wall catches me as I stumble against it and lose my footing. The despair finally leaving my body is too much. I can’t be in this house another day.
“Everly!” Rowan yells from the downstairs lobby, and I hear him running up the steps after me.
I do what I do best.
I run.
And slam my bedroom door, letting the cries disable me until I’m sliding down the wood separating me from the biggest mistake I’ve made in my entire life. I want to throw myself into his arms so bad and finally feel at home, but I can’t. I’m having withdrawals from him. My body shakes from not getting the fix. I’m addicted.
And I’ll never be okay without him. I’ll consistently be on the mend, trying to move on from the one thing I want most.
“Everly,” Rowan repeats, with a shake of the doorknob.
I muffle my cries with my hand and pull my legs to my chest. My cheek finds my knee, and the tears find a new path to fall down, wetting the material of my leggings.
The door stops jiggling, but I still hear him breathing.
“Everly.” This time when he says my name, it isn’t full of demand or hate, but yearning. I turn around on my knees and stand, placing my hand on the door.
“Rowan,” I find the strength to say his name, even if it does sound weak on a short, quaking breath.
He doesn’t say anything, but I hear him. I hear his deep sighs and the creaks in the old, wooden floors as he shuffles his weight from one leg to another. I gasp as I feel heat on the other side of the door, searing my hand. I stare at the spot with wide eyes, but I don’t say a word because I know it’s all in my head. There is no way I can feel his hand on the other side of this door, no matter how much I wish I could.
I lean my forehead against the door, rolling it back and forth from the restraint I’m fighting. I want to open the damn door.
“Everly.”
“Rowan,” I whisper.
We don’t say anything else. Everything that needs to be said, is said in that moment. I gasp as the heat I felt, the connection, the familiar magnetic pull between us, breaks. His hand is gone. The heavy steps of him walking away only makes fresh tears fall.
I hate this house.
I hate this room.
I hate it all.
I run to my suitcase, unzip it, and throw all my clothes from the drawers in the bag. I don’t fold them. I don’t care. I need out of here. My pain still drips down my face in heavy flows, and I brush it away with my forearm. Next, I run to the bathroom and grab all my items off the counter and toss them in my bag, carelessly.
I grab my cell charger, stuff it
