Love Hate Relationship

His chest rose and fell on a deep breath as I tried to get my rapid heartbeat under control. I sucked in as much air as possible, coaxing myself with a silent in through your nose, out through your mouth. It took a few seconds, but I finally started to calm down. That was, until Rowan focused those darkened eyes on me.

“This isn’t over. Goddamn, this is so not fucking over.”

“I know.” The surprise that flashed across his face told me he’d been expecting a fight. Well, I wasn’t going to give him one.

“Tonight, after this is over. Come home with me.” It wasn’t a question. He wasn’t giving me any room to change my mind.

“O-okay,” I stuttered on a nod.

A slow, brain-shorting smile spread across his lips as he spoke a quiet, “Okay.”

He held on to my hand firmly as he guided me out of the limo, letting go once I was on my feet to rest his palm at the small of my back. The touch provided a sense of comfort as we walked into the Plaza Hotel where the gala was being held.

“Whoa,” I exhaled. “Talk about lifestyles of the rich and famous,” I whispered for only Rowan’s ears.

“This place will be packed with pretentious douchebags and narcissistic bastards.”

I turned my face up toward him and gave him a quick smile. “So, what you’re saying is you’ll fit in perfectly.”

“She’s got jokes.” He gri

“So, tell me what to expect tonight,” I said as we walked into the ornately decorated ballroom. Yep, so out of my element.

Rowan led me to the bar closest to us, one of two on either side of the room. “Well, it’s going to be boring,” he started. “Mind numbingly boring. Cocktails and a silent auction followed by a di

“Noted,” I giggled.

“During the di

“Wow, you make it sound so appealing,” I responded sarcastically.

“Well, now you know why I hate coming to these things.”

The bartender came over for our drink order, a scotch on the rocks for Rowan, a gin and tonic for myself.

“So,” I asked a few minutes later, taking a fortifying sip of my drink as I turned to scan the room, “Are you telling me you have enough money to buy your own personal island?”

Rowan rested his side against the bar next to me, his elbow propped up casually as he brought his glass to his lips. I was momentarily mesmerized by the way his lips wrapped around the edge, how his throat bobbed when he swallowed. I had to give my head a quick shake to pull me from my stupor.

“Maybe a small one,” he teased. “What? You thinking of becoming a gold digger?”

“Nah, not really my style.” I sca

It was like perfect comedic timing—only not fu

“Rowan,” she purred in an a

“Uh… hi…” Yep, he totally forgot her name. His wide, icy eyes shot to me as if wanting me to step in and save him. Not a fucking chance in hell. He’d made his bed, had sex with the five-foot-nine Barbie Doll in it, he could very well lie in it.

“You don’t remember me?” she asked with what I was assuming was a pout. Hard to tell with all the collagen pumped into her lips. It took an act of God to prevent me from reaching for my phone and snapping a quick picture. I wanted to blast that baby all over Instagram as a warning to always seek a board-certified plastic surgeon.

Did she get that shit done in Tijuana or something?

When all he did was stand there like a dumbass mute, she continued. “Brandi… with an i?” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “The bathtub at the Waldorf?” Oh, gag! “You called me sweetheart?” You and every other available vagina this side of the Hudson.

“Oh, of course!” Rowan lied through his teeth. “Brandi. Yes, I remember.”

She attempted a grin that couldn’t bust through the toxins she’d pumped into her skin. “I knew you would!” I wanted to gouge my eyes out. Or better yet, stick a fork in one of the airbags she called a boob and watch her fly away. “Are you here alone? We could leave a little early if you wanted, go back to my place…” She trailed a fingernail down the lapel of his jacket, lower and lower until Rowan grabbed her wrist, stopping her just inches from being indecent.

I was pissed.

Or more aptly, I was jealous. And that itself was enough to piss me off even more. I didn’t get jealous. Ever. I’d never been jealous in my life. Yet there I sat, fuming over the biggest man-whore on the eastern seaboard. Good Lord, how had things spun so out of control?

“Um, no. I’m actually—” he began to answer.

Clearing my throat loudly, I pasted on a saccharine-sweet smile as they turned to look at me. Boobzilla sca

I extended my hand in the human blowup doll’s direction. “Hi, I’m Navie.” When her expression remained impassive, I continued. “Rowan’s date.”

She let out a less than feminine snort. “You must be joking.”

“She’s not, actually,” Rowan answered, detaching himself from the she-bitch and moving to my side, snaking his hand around my waist. My heart did a little flip at his possessive gesture. My body liked that way more than it should have. “It was nice seeing you again. Enjoy your evening.”

Just like that, he turned his back on her, stepping in front of me and effectively cutting her off. But I wasn’t done.

Taking a page out of Rowan’s playbook, I looked over his shoulder, smiling big as I said, “Lovely meeting you, Barbara.”