Page 40 of Fighting Spirit

Rowan presses on. “I came because I wanted to. I’m here because I want to be. Stop assuming that I don’t know my own mind. I’m a grown man, I don’t fuck around. I like being around you and I like fixing shit. So I’m here, fixing your fuckin’ wall and there isn’t a thing you can say that’s gonna make me feel bad about that. Okay?”

I’m struck dumb by his words. He seems a little surprised himself, like that outburst got away from him.

“Ruth.” He knocks his hand against mine. “That okay?”

“That’s okay,” I breathe out.

I feel myself shift imperceptibly toward him as the seconds pull taut, like there’s a magnet in my chest that has me rocking closer. I get a hit of his scent, all clean and soapy with a hint of something spicy. Neither of us says anything, content just to stare at one another. Rowan takes half a step forward, his sock-covered foot knocks against my bare toes. His eyebrows wrinkle like he doesn’t remember getting so close.

“Ruth.” I feel the word as a puff of air against my cheek.

“Ro-”

“RUUUUUUUUUUUTTTHHHH!”

The tension crashes down around us as the front door slams, Georgie barreling into the apartment. I can’t quite tell if she’s singing or screaming, but I do know that it sounds like a cat in a dishwasher. It must be singing because it turns into an off-key rendition ofJesse’s Girl, accompanied by the clattering of her throwing open every cabinet in the kitchen. In the next thirty seconds, she’ll probably start trying to bake something.

I sigh as I watch Rowan trying (and failing) to hold in a smirk.

“She’s snacky.” I shrug as if that’ll explain everything.

“Right.”

“She gets like this when she drinks. She sings, she snacks, sometimes she bakes, which’ll need some supervision. And, in about an hour, she’ll start cyber-stalking the entire cheer team and crying while trying to convince me to ‘prank call’ her ex.” I wince.

“Why are you the one calling?”

“Bri is less likely to recognize my voice.”

“Makes sense.”

“I think she just wants me to find out if Bri’s at home or if she’s with somebody else.”

“Bad breakup?”

“You have no idea,” I groan.

For a minute, I debate ignoring her, but a crash echoes through the apartment, followed by a muffled giggle.

I sigh. “I should go deal with that.”

“Sure, don’t worry about me.” Rowan quickly moves back to the window and starts tapping the wallpaper, making an effort to look busy. “I shouldn’t be too much longer. Just need to get the rail back up and I’ll be out of here.”

I feel a pang of disappointment. Which is stupid, right? He’s just doing me a favor. But that moment was something, I’m sure of it. The only thing I’m not sure of is what the something was.

“If you need anything-”

My words are cut off again by the sound of the oven turning on.

“Go.” He shoos me away with his hand, somehow holding back a laugh at how ridiculous this is. “I’ll let myself out when I’m done.”

“Okay, thanks, Rowan.”

As I head into the kitchen, I worry that I’ve just missed a chance I’m not getting back. I’m greeted by the sight of Georgie in a lilac sequined minidress and eye-watering heels, trying to mix dry ingredients in the plastic bowl we use for popcorn, and occasionally throwing up in.

“Rutheroni!” She beams, and all is forgotten as I smile back at my best friend. It’s nice to see her so happy, and the fact that she’s this happy to see me is the icing on the cake.

“Hey, Georgiepoo,” I chuckle, “you have a good night?”

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