A sad smile broke across his face. “I didn’t say I wasn’t interested, Remi. I just said I can’t.”
I swayed my head from side to side. “See, I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. I don’t think my neck can take any more whiplash from you.”
He chuckled, and for the first time, I saw a glimmer of a sense of humor. It was like when the sun pops out during a rain shower. But the cold, hard truth was I was still getting drenched in the downpour of rejection.
“Fair enough,” he said.
“Right, well… I think that’s my cue to go. Have an absolutely beautiful life, and let me know if you ever decide you can.”
“Absolutely,” he muttered, dropping his gaze to his shoes.
I had no idea what was going on in Bowen’s life. God knew I had enough shit in my own to know better than to ask questions. The hardest part was we were both walking away disappointed that day.
No one could say I didn’t try though.
“Oh, wait,” I said, digging into my purse. “I almost forgot. Here.” I extended the safety pin in his direction. “Who knows. Maybe there’s another girl out there with a cursed dress who will need it one day. Not all heroes wear capes, right? Some just save the day with safety pins.”
I expected the confusion that crinkled his forehead. It was a used safety pin for Pete’s sake, but I was not prepared for the pure and utter awe that stared back at me.
“What did you say?” he gasped.
I blanched, thrown off by the back-and-forth flow of normal dialogue I was suddenly—and finally—having with him. “Which part?”
“All of it.” He didn’t wait for me to answer. “You kept that?”
I shrugged. “Kinda. It took me this long to finally get the courage up to touch that dress again. Anyway, I thought you might want it back.”
He didn’t so much as take it from me as I awkwardly shoved it in his hand.
I had to get out of there. Fascinating as it was, I didn’t need to know Bowen’s obsession with safety pins. He’d made himself clear, and I had a feeling the more I got to know him, the harder it would be to leave him alone.
“Take care, Bowen.”
His face got soft as an honest-to-God smile beamed back to me. “Thanks, Remi.”
It was probably for the best that we never went on a date. My bedroom wasn’t big enough for all my plants and every single safety pin in the world that I would inevitably beg, barter, and steal for him based on that one smile alone.
Though the ache in my chest as I got in my car and drove away didn’t feel like the best at all.
Bowen
Seven months before the plane crash…
“Nooo, you got dressed,” I groaned when she slid back into bed beside me, her soft breasts molding to my side.
“Oh, hush.” She kissed the underside of my jaw. “We both know you are in no condition for round three.”
I rolled into her, tasting her mouth before mumbling against it, “Well, not yet. But the night is young.”
“Maybe. But you are not.” She giggled.
I was only a few years older than she was. The delineation being the jump from twenties to thirties that she never let me forget. I could have been a hundred and that one giggle would have been enough to raise my cock from the dead.
Grinning, I tickled her. “You sure about that, smartass?”
She laughed, loud and breathtaking. “Bowen, stop.”
I did. Immediately. Not because my chest wasn’t full for the first time in months from seeing her lost in laughter, but rather because I wanted to keep her that way. Smiling. Happy. At peace.
Relaxing onto my back, I pulled her close, sliding an arm under her head. “Okay. But don’t say I didn’t warn you, Sally. You’re going to be in serious trouble in an hour or two.”
With a sigh, she draped a leg over my hips and used her fingertips to trace circles on my chest. “Hey, Bowen?”
“Right here, babe.”
“You know I love you, right?”
“Of course.” Dipping low, I kissed the top of her head. “And I love you too. More than anything.”
“Yeah. I know. And, well, I just…wanted you to know…it’s okay if you want to love somebody else.”
My whole body jerked. From the timid tone of her voice, it didn’t sound like she’d intended it as a blow, but it had landed like a TKO all the same.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I rumbled, giving her a pointed squeeze. “I don’t want anybody else.”
The room was dark, but as she tilted her head back, the familiar tears sparkling in her eyes were unmistakable. “But you might. One day.”
“No. I won’t.”
“You could.”
“No. I couldn’t.”
“You don’t know that!” she yelled, abruptly sitting up.
My mouth slammed shut as I studied her face. I was used to the mood swings. The highs and the lows, the jarring confusion when the two suddenly collided. But I was still naked and sated after having spent the last two hours worshipping her body for the first time in months. I was not prepared for an argument. Honestly, I would have done anything, short of agreeing to love somebody else, to avoid it.
