Page 29 of At First Smile
Rowan’s head snaps between the woman and me. His posture relaxes, but he maintains a firm grip on my hand.
“I am.” I offer a slight smile.
The woman claps her hands together. “Oh, my word. I still can’t believe this. This is amazing. Where are my manners?” A giggle bubbles out. “I’m Stacy Gray. I teach special education at the high school, and my students and I follow you. None of my students are visually impaired, but they relate to you so much. They all have intellectual disabilities and are inspired by the way you embrace your disability as part of your life without letting it define you.”
“Thanks,” I brush my hair behind my ear with my free hand.
“I almost died when I saw your post from Milford Falls this afternoon. My students have been freaking out on our class’s message board that you’re in town, but they are going to lose it when I tell them on Monday that I ran into you at the inn. I just came to see Harley play – he’s a bit of a rockstar around here.”
A low grumble plays in Rowans throat, making me bite back a snort. Clearly, he’s not a fan of Michigan Ed Sheeran. I’ll admit Harley is attractive. He’s all clean-cut boy next door with close-cropped hair and a smooth-shaven face versus Rowan’s rugged good looks. The aroma of citrusy soap wafts from Harley, while a haunting woodsy scent clings to Rowan. Harley’s timbre is like warmed caramel, while Rowan’s gruff, deep voice oozes sex appeal. Even without the snatches of Irish lilt, his voice plays my body like an instrument making me hum with need for more.
God, I wish I had used my vibrator.My body was wound tight after our hike. Between the almost kiss as I straddled him on the bridge and the loss of his physical touch after, every cell blazes. Apparently, even the icy shower I took couldn’t quell the fire low in my belly.
“School isn’t out yet?” Rowan asks, clearing his throat.
Good gravy, how does that even sound sexy?
“Summer session for special ed students,” she says, tipping her head back. “How long are you in town for? I shouldn’t ask, but if you’re available I’d love to have you come in. The kids would flip. Penelope Meadows,” she squeals.
“Weleave tomorrow,” Rowans says, a warm firmness shading his tone.
“Boo.”
“But I could record a message for your students. Something you could play for them in class. Or I can post a message to my social media that congratulates them on the end of the school year. We could do it together.”
“They’d freak out if you posted it to your social.”
“I can take the video,” Rowan offers, squeezing my hand.
“Thanks.” I slip my phone out and hand it to him. It’s almost second nature now. He took several shots of me by the pool at the waterfall’s base. He said he’d even captured a short video of me playing with a puppy being walked by an older couple along the riverbed. Its paws, bigger than its little body covered in silken chocolate-colored fur, bounced at my cane’s ball tip as if it was a new toy. It was utterly adorable. I didn’t look at the pictures or video after. My body was still too keyed up from throwing myself at him, only to be thwarted by that random man who turned out to be a park ranger, to review the pictures and video.
“Would it also be okay to get a selfie with my phone, too?” Stacy asks after we finish recording the short message.
“Of course.” My eyes drop to Rowan, who hands me my phone. “Would you mind?—”
“I’ve got you, luv.”
Liquid heat surges like wildfire in my veins. The way he says luv and the energy that rushes between us makes me a little tipsy. I’ve had crushes before, but there’s something about the fizziness in my blood that overpowers my good senses aroundhim. Never would I have got in a rental car with a man I do not know to go to a random inn in a town where I know no one and then proceed to go on a hike in the woods with him. That’s some textbookDateline Specialgirl who gets murdered shit. Yet here I am. He could ask me to go for a midnight stroll in the dark woods to an abandoned cabin to see his chainsaw collection, and I’d probably say yes.
This is how you die, Pen…or get your heart broken.Either way I’m going willingly.
“Such a handsome helper. Is he your new boyfriend?”
Rowan’s hand brushes at the base of his head. “We just met today.”
“New boyfriend?” A furrow notches on my forehead.
“You had a boyfriend on your page, but he’s not been photographed in a bit. The one with beautiful blue eyes that looks a little like Ryan Gosling. Dr. Alex something. He’s tagged in the pictures with you. Several of the students in my class have major crushes on him. They’ve been bummed and speculating since there haven’t been any photos with him in a while.”
Since December thirty-first to be exact. Happy New Year, you’re an asshole, now goodbye.My body bristles at the mention of Alex. I’d forgotten about the pictures with Alex that slipped into my social media. There aren’t a lot of photos with him. One at aBridgertonthemed fundraiser for the hospital I – we work at – and a couple of random shots at some volunteer events. As much as I share my life, there’re things I prefer to keep to myself. Cane Austen and Me is about raising awareness and advocating for/about disability, not for sharing the personal things that I like to keep private, including my romantic relationships. Something Alex had no problem sharing all over his social media and tagging himself and me in photos.
“Dr. Alex Walsh. We’re just colleagues,” I offer the half-truth.
Though colleague adds far more to the current relationship with Alex. He’s now the smooth baritone and loud dress shoes who I avoid at the hospital. But she doesn’t get to know that. I give a lot to my followers in the name of supporting the way disabled people are seen in this world, but I won’t offer my heart nor the massive mistake it almost made.
Snapping the photo, Rowan hands the phone back to Stacy. Large hand on my hip, he tucks me into his side. “While I’m not her boyfriend, we are on a date, so if you don’t mind…” he says with firmness in his tone.
It’s not a date. He knows that. I know that. Even if I did get myself ready as if it was. He hadn’t committed when I invited him to join me, but the jealous way he grumbled about Harley told me he’d be at the bar with me tonight.
