Off Chance (30 page)

Rowan steps up to the sink and fills Capone’s bowl. “Why don’t you sit at the table and let me look at the burns?”

I see a cup of coffee already poured with two Ibuprofen laying beside it. I pick them up, toss them in the back of my throat, and chase it with the hot coffee, which burns like hell going down.

Taking a seat at the table, I sip at my coffee a bit more carefully while Rowan feeds Capone. When she’s done, she washes her hands in the sink and quickly dries them with some paper towels. She steps up to me and moves right in between my legs with no hesitation. Memories of that first time we kissed, with her standing between my legs, floods over me. I try like hell to avert my eyes so I’m not staring straight at her breasts as they sway softly under the cotton shirt when she moves.

Focus on the pain, Flynn. Avert the hard on.

“Lean back,” she says softly. “I’m going to take the bandages off and put some ointment on.”

“Maybe I should take a shower first.”

Rowan shakes her head. “No, let’s be careful today with it. Bath is all you get so we can keep the bandages dry.”

I grumble because I hate taking baths. Our tub is large enough to barely bathe a child, much less my overgrown frame. But I comply with her request and lean back in the chair, tilting my head back slightly so she can get a good look.

Carefully peeling the bandages back, I silently will the Ibuprofen to work faster, and bring the throb down from a roar to a dull ache. When the first bandage comes off, the cool air at first feels good, then the pain starts to intensify. I grit my teeth and stare at the ceiling, hoping I don’t cry like a little baby in front of her.

The second bandage comes off and Rowan bends over to look at the wounds. “They actually look pretty good.” Her finger comes out and lightly touches the good skin around the burn, but even that hurts and I suck air in between my teeth.

“Quit being a baby,” she says.

I don’t say anything but let Nurse Ratchet continue her ministrations.

“One of them is blistering pretty badly, but right now there are no open wounds,” she comments. “The doctor told me what to look for, so I think you’re good right now.”

“How big are they?” I ask, because I can’t get a good look at them since they sit right below my collarbone in the middle of my chest.

She holds her hand up and touches her forefinger to her thumb, making a circle. “Not too big... probably like this.”

I nod and watch with dubious eyes as she now advances on me with a tube of cream. “What’s that?”

“An antibiotic ointment I have to put on, and then I’ll put on clean bandages.”

Rowan squeezes a dab of cream onto her forefinger and leans forward. She touches the burn softly and starts to smear it in a circle. The pain spikes even though her touch is gentle and I jerk, issuing a curse from my mouth. “Fuck, that hurts.”

She stands back and looks at me with affection and amusement. “God, I can’t believe what a sissy you are.”

“Well, damn Rowan... you have a touch that is about as soft as a concrete cinderblock.”

Rowan leans back down with another dab of cream to torture my other wound. “Quit complaining or you can just get Jennifer to come over and take care of your sorry ass.”

She’s teasing, of course, because I can hear the laughter in her voice. But I also hear a twinge of jealousy and that works faster than the Ibuprofen to ease my pain. It must be the rush of pleasure endorphins.

“Yeah, well... that will be kind of hard, seeing as how I broke things off with her two days ago.”

Rowan’s head snaps up so fast, she almost catches me under the chin. Her eyes bore hard into mine, and her brows furrow inward. She looks pissed at first, but then I see she is just shocked over the pronouncement and has no clue what to do with the feelings they invoke.

And they definitely invoke feelings. I can see them swirling in her eyes. She stares for just another moment and then goes back to her task, rubbing the ointment in.

“So you broke up, huh?”

“Yeah... we just weren’t destined, I guess.”

“Did she take it hard?”

“Not really,” I tell her, and it’s true... she didn’t. She actually shook my hand when we parted ways outside the restaurant where I had met her to break the bad news.

Rowan opens a bandage and with much more care, gently lays it over a burn and presses it into place. “Well... I’m sorry. No matter, it always sucks to go through a break up.”

“Are you?” I ask, watching her intently.

She looks up at me, another bandage in her hand. “Am I what?”

“Sorry we broke up.”

She doesn’t answer right away and leans forward to put the other bandage on. But then she softly says, “No... I’m not sorry. Not really.”

I can’t help myself so I put my hand under her chin and force her eyes up to mine. “My mom is a wise woman, don’t you think?”

Her eyes flare wide with surprise, because I’m quite sure she wasn’t expecting me to bring my mom into the conversation.

She nods her head slightly. “Very wise.”

“Well, I overheard her conversation with you on Thanksgiving. I just... think she’s very wise.”

I can actually see the wheels spinning in Rowan’s head as she drifts back to that conversation and tries to remember everything Nora Caldwell said to her. I smile softly and decide to put her out of her misery.

“She said that she suspected I was into someone else... and that’s why I didn’t bring Jennifer over to see her.”

Rowan stands straight but doesn’t back up from between my legs. I love her closeness to me and inhale her sweet scent. “Is that right?”

“Pretty much.”

“You said something like that on the phone last night... when you called me.”

“Hey,” I say and hold my hands up to deny culpability. “I deny anything I say while under the influence of drugs.”

Her face drops and her gaze lowers to the floor. She says, “Oh” and starts to turn away from me but I grab her wrist. When she turns to look back at me, her eyes are stormy gray and filled with confusion.

“But,” I tell her. “I’d say the same thing here in the bright light of day.”

Rowan’s eyes go from dark to light in just a matter of a few seconds. She just looks at me and I return her stare.

Then slowly, she reaches her hand and places her fingertips at the edge of my forehead where my hairline starts. She pushes her fingers in slowly until she’s three-knuckles deep into my hair and she combs her fingers through. She repeats this a few times, just lazily running her hand through my hair.

With a smile that is laced with trepidation, she says, “I’m still scared, Flynn.”

I reach up and grab her hand, pulling it to my mouth. Holding her fingertips to my lips for a moment, I slowly release them. I stand up from the chair and Rowan has to back up to give me room.

Looking down at her, I give her an encouraging smile. “I know you’re scared. But I won’t push you for anything you don’t want to freely give.”

I lean down and give her a soft kiss on top of her head while I gently cup the back to hold her there. I let my lips linger for a moment and then I release her.

She smiles at me and I turn away... intent on cramming my body into that tiny bathtub so I can get cleaned up.

Flynn and I walk through the apartment door, loaded with bags upon bags of stuff. Capone rushes up to meet us, dipping his big head in the bags as we lay them on the floor to unburden our arms.

“It’s your turn to take Capone out,” I tell him. “I’ll start putting everything away.”

“That’s a fair deal. We’ll be right back.”

I smile as I watch Capone prance in place when he sees Flynn grab the leash. It’s amazing how fast they’ve bonded, especially since I didn’t think Capone would ever take to a man because of the way Juice treated him.

Flynn leaves tomorrow for Nix and Emily’s wedding in St. John. I really wish I could go but it just isn’t feasible. So, we decided that we would celebrate Christmas early, just the two of us. We spent the majority of the day shopping for gifts, although I had bought mine for Flynn a few weeks ago, but it needed some work and I just finished it last night. We picked up some decorations, too, although we decided not to put up a tree.

Neither one of us wanted to bother cooking so we agreed on Chinese. I pick up the phone and place an order for us...Shrimp Fried Rice for me and General Tso’s for Flynn, along with two egg rolls. I carry our Christmas gifts back to put them in our respective rooms. I don’t have that many as I really only bought a few things. I got a beautiful sterling silver frame for Nix and Emily, so they could put a wedding photo in it, and a crystal wine chiller for Nick and Nora. Finally, I bought a box of cigars for George and some perfume for Fil. The Caldwell’s gifts will have to wait until they get back from St. John but I plan on sending Fil and George’s over to them in the next few days.

Opening my closet, I pull out Flynn’s gift. I wrapped it the other day and I’m so nervous about giving it to him. I wanted something that would let him know how much he means to me, but without it being too intimate. Because at this point, I really want Flynn but I’m still too chicken to take the dive.

When he was dating Jennifer, I sort of came to a realization. There will eventually be a woman in Flynn’s life. He is too good of a man for there not to be. Now, my big fear of involving myself with Flynn is that I will get crushed if it doesn’t work out and I will probably lose my friendship with him.

However, I saw while he was dating, that if another woman is in his life, I’m going to lose him anyway to a certain extent. He is not going to be able to spend the time with me that he does, and the even bigger risk is that his new love probably would not want him having a close female friend. So, it seems I’m probably damned either way.

Now I find myself debating the best way to have Flynn Caldwell in my life, with the least amount of risk to myself. But most importantly, I also have to figure out how to do this without hurting Flynn. Because even though I’m afraid of getting hurt myself, it’s becoming more important to me that he remain unscathed.

“We’re back,” Flynn yells and I bring his gift out with me.

“I ordered the Chinese. It should be here in about half an hour.”

Flynn looks pointedly at the present in my hand. “What’s that?”

“It’s your gift,” I tell him, setting it on the coffee table. Capone nudges it and gives it a sniff. “Don’t even think about it, Capone,” I give him a warning. He doesn’t even look abashed and nudges it again, but then he loses interest.

“Can I open it now?” Flynn asks, his eyes lit up like a five-year-old.

“No. We have to decorate first, then eat, and then presents.”

“Why does it have to be in that order?” he sulks.

“Because... I just decided to make that rule. Besides... the anticipation is what makes it great, right?”

Flynn’s childish and goofy grin melts away and a smirk replaces it. “Anticipation can also kill you, too.”

I snort over that comment, because I know exactly what he’s talking about.

We’re able to decorate the apartment by the time the food arrives. It wasn’t like it was a massive undertaking though. We basically bought some cheerful, colored lights and hung them around the living room windows. He strung tinsel across the mantle of the fireplace, which has been broken the entire time Flynn has lived here. And we lit some Cinnamon-Apple candles, turning the lights down low so the room just glowed from the lights and wavering flames.

Flynn and I ate our Chinese food on the floor, both using the chopsticks. “This reminds me of
A Christmas Story
,” he says.

I start laughing and point my sticks at him. “It does! Where at the end they eat Christmas dinner at a Chinese restaurant.”

“Yup. That’s a great movie. We should see if it’s on TV and watch it tonight.”

“That would be fun,” I agree, taking my last scoop of rice. I’m stuffed and can’t hold anymore, even though I only ate about half of it.

Pushing my container away, I watch Flynn polish his food all the way off, even grabbing my container and eating some of mine. When he’s finished, he lies back on the floor and groans. “I’m dying. That was way too much food.”