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March 24 - March 26, 2024
But the second I pull my jacket closer across the seat to slide it on, his eyes snap back to mine, amusement coloring their dark hues with the kind of light that sets me on edge.
Maybe it will remain here long after I’ve found a hole to crawl inside to die.
“Blackbird.”
Daddys callin
When I make a slow pivot on my heel, my eyes track to Lachlan first, whose smirk is nothing short of diabolical.
“What are you doing here?” Dying an agonizingly slow death of mortification, clearly.
turning to stride toward the exit only to be stopped short by Lachlan, who’s standing as a sentry between me and my escape.
Shit.
No, Anna. I’m clearly here to die of embarrassment.
One where I don’t have to feel anything. Because revenge is easy. But everything else is hard.
“Good lad.”
Lachlan’s birthday lunch.
Happy birthday Lachlan!!!
Her voice is wary, but I still detect the faint trace of amusement beneath her trepidation.
“What I should have done the other day. I’m cooking with you,” I say. “We’re going to make it together. Put the phone on speaker and start grating the Parmesan.”
“I would have made time for you. You’re …” I swallow before I can say more than I should. “You’re my friend. Maybe someday my best friend.”
The silence stretches on so long that I pull the phone from my ear to check if the call disconnected.
Been there
“I’m supposed to grate this whole block of cheese? It’s the size of a small baby.”
I’m a fucking goner.
“Cool, cool …”
Very cool very cool
you’d distract me.”
I bet he would
That no is totally a yes.
standing across the street like a smitten fucking fool, too nervous to scare her off to actually go to her door but too desperate to be near her to really care.
“Art brings up bad memories sometimes. I used to love painting. I’d paint for hours. I started experimenting with sculpture too. But things … changed. Sketching is like the foundation. It’s all that was left when the rest burned down—the only thing I still enjoy. Well, that and my webs, which feel like art to me.”
the three of us usually alone in the dark, unwelcoming house.
“I’m having fun.” I gasp theatrically. “No, you can’t, that wasn’t part of my plan.”
I might have nudged the police in the right direction, but I don’t tell her that.
On the third day,
Because I know if I do, there’s a chance I’ll tear the fucking door off the plane to get back to Jasmine Street.
Forcing myself to wait is a delicious torment.
Hot
Disappointment has never looked so damn sweet.
A motorcycle helmet drops onto the empty space next to me on the white leather couch.
And he is fucking elated about that.
He aims his fucking flawless smile at my prey, his skin bright and flushed, probably from the excitement of successfully chasing me down.
And then he turns the full force of his charm attack on me. “Hello, friend.”
Within ten, Thorsten is nearly tripping over himself to invite Rowan along to our dinner at his home tomorrow night, something I’ve spent all evening orchestrating as a solo venture.
“Your grocery delivery trick to my home was very cute. You nearly had me fooled there with that cooking-together thing.” “Fooled?” Rowan’s eyes roam over me, bright and wry. “Not sure what you mean, Blackbird.”
for this season’s game,”
Why am i into this??
“You’ll love me someday.” The next day is not that day.
And someday is definitely not today when I park at Thorsten’s grand, secluded home in Calabasas and Rowan’s rented motorcycle is already there.
hot as sin in a black leather jacket,
One of my favorite phrases
The smile he flashes us has a hidden, sharp edge.
a painting by John Singer Sargent
Angela <3
“Seems like you might have differing opinions on the subject of your relationship status.”
“No one competes with Sloane.” Rowan’s eyes anchor on mine, dragging me into the depths of a navy sea. “She just hasn’t realized it yet.”
ADGJUGFYDHJDBGFNBD
and I manage to roll my eyes and catch Rowan’s fleeting grin in reply before our host can look our way.
“Mr. Miller can’t talk. He had a terrible accident recently, so I have taken him under my employ.”
Thats sus
Haven’t you figured it out yet, pretty boy?
Rowan grins, but this is his smile of secrets, and it’s one I know well.
Lobotomy, I mouth at him, trying to make it look like I’m scratching my forehead when I tap it and nod toward David. Rowan’s head tilts and I roll my eyes, gritting my teeth. Lo-bo-to-my. Rowan’s head tilts in the other direction, his brow still furrowed but a hint of a grin playing at his lips. He subtly points at me, and then at himself. You love me? he mouths.
Jfc rowan
“You look so pretty, Blackbird,” he says as David enters the room with three covered dishes on the trolley. Blush flames in my cheeks. “Thank you.” “You always look pretty. When you came to the restaurant, I said—” Rowan hiccups twice, then drowns the next one with a gulp of wine—“I said, ‘Sloane is the most beautiful girl in the world.’ And then my brother called me a ‘feckin eejit’ because I could have all the pussy I wanted in Boston but instead I’ve taken a vow of obstinance—” “Abstinence.” “—abstinence over a girl who doesn’t want me.”
“Rowan …”
