The days seemed to drag on without Rowan in them. I tried not to even look at him while he Skyped with Miles. It made me miss him too much and seeing him only reminded me of how unfair it all was. We spoke on the phone briefly before bed, but it wasn’t enough. None of it was. What I didn’t do was allow myself to pull back on my feelings. He’d told me he loved me. He’d shown me he loved our son. He just needed to get his shit together and come back to us for good. Those were the thoughts that kept me going as I yanked the door to the hospital open.

When I stepped off the elevator, Celia was standing there with a smile on her face.

“He walked today.”

I grinned so wide that my lips cracked from the cold. “How far?”

“Just to the other side of the room,” she said. “But he walked.”

“How’s he handling the scar?”

Her face fell. “Not that great. He keeps making jokes about it, and you know he only makes jokes—”

“When he’s depressed. Fuck.” I breathed out. “What can we do?”

“Just keep reminding him that the scar doesn’t matter. I don’t know.” She hugged me quickly. “Happy birthday, sissy. I’ll see you later.”

I walked toward Freddie’s room, knocking once before I went inside. I completely froze, my heart galloping in my ears at the sight of Rowan sitting in the chair beside Freddie’s bed. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen him here. Ever since he figured out what times I visited, he’d come around the same time. Yet, it did nothing to diminish the way I felt each time I saw him.

“Um, hi.” I made myself walk inside, letting the door shut behind me. “I didn’t bring anything,” I said awkwardly.

My brother raised his good eyebrow. “When do you ever bring anything?”

“Shut up, I’ve been caught up in things.”

“I’ll forgive you, but only because it’s your birthday.” He smiled, cringing. I hated seeing him in pain. The scar on the left side of his face curved in the shape of a hook, narrowly missing his eye. It was still bright pink, but the doctors assured everyone that it would fade in time. It wouldn’t ever heal completely, but it would get better. I walked over and kissed him on the forehead before going around the bed. Rowan stood before I reached him, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me against him.

“Happy birthday, baby. God, I miss you,” he said against my hair. I wrapped my arms around his strong torso and breathed him in, bottling up the scent for later. We let go at the sound of Freddie shifting on the bed.

“I heard you banned him from the apartment,” my brother said when Rowan and I pulled away from each other.

“I didn’t exactly ban him. Oh, I almost forgot.” I reached into my messenger bag and took out the card Miles had made Freddie and another he’d made Rowan. “I didn’t know you’d be here, but I’ve been holding on to this just in case.”

His face broke into a grin. “He made one for me?”

I watched both of them as they opened their cards. Freddie’s said “Get Well Soon” and had rockets and paint brushes and easels drawn all over it. Rowan’s said “I Miss You” and had rockets and pancakes and bacon and books. His smile faltered as he looked at the card, his thumb brushing over it slowly. He looked up after a couple of beats.

“Thank you.”

I nodded once, not knowing how to handle the emotion Rowan was showing me. “I have to go. I just wanted to come by before my day gets crazy. I have to go to the hotel to measure the spaces for the furniture.”

“Are you getting me a free room?” Freddie asked. “Maybe they can hook it up with a permanent room for me there.”

“You have an apartment. Why would you want a hotel room?” I asked. He raised his good eyebrow. I rolled my eyes. “Stop being gross.”

He chuckled as I gave him a hug and a kiss goodbye. Rowan said his goodbye behind me and then followed me out the door. His hand kept brushing against mine as we walked the corridor to the elevator.

“Maybe we should take the stairs?” He nodded at them.

We were only three floors up, so I shrugged in agreement. He held the door open for a nurse to step out before we stepped in and made our way to the second floor, then the first. When we reached the landing, he pulled me aside, wrapped a hand behind my neck, and kissed me. His tongue delving into my mouth, branding me with the intensity of the kiss.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he breathed against me. “I can’t be apart from you much longer.” His hands were on my breasts over my blouse, mine were under the jacket of his suit, relishing how hard he felt beneath it all.

“We’re in a hospital stairwell,” I whispered. I wasn’t even wearing a skirt today. He groaned against me.

“I’m coming over tonight.”

“Rowan.”

“Sprite.” He looked into my eyes. “I’m coming over tonight.”

“Okay.”

My bedroom door opened sometime after I’d fallen asleep. I bolted upright in bed when I saw the large figure walk inside.

“It’s just me.”

“Rowan,” I breathed out. “You can’t just—how did you get in?”

“You gave me a key, remember?”

“Not to keep.”

“Well, I kept it.”

I smiled into the dark. “What time is it? I didn’t think you were going to come.”

“It’s only ten.” I heard rustling and knew he was undressing. The bed dipped a few beats after and I shivered as he scooted over to me, pressing his naked chest against my barely clothed body. His lips found mine in an unrushed kiss.

“I miss you so much, Sprite.”

“I miss you,” I whispered against his mouth.

“Let me stay.”

I shook my head, my nose tapping against his. “You know I can’t. Not until we know for sure she’s out of our lives.”

“I hate this.”

“So do I.”

He kissed me again, harder this time, with more desperation than the previous kiss held. I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck as he pushed me onto my back and climbed over me. He pulled back for a moment, long enough to pull my T-shirt over my head and drag my underwear down my legs. His went next and then he was right over me again, kissing me deeply, his hands everywhere—on my breasts, my thighs, and my waist, which had me arching up to meet his erection, thick and ready between my legs. His fingers ran through my folds and into me, teasing, making me wet and ready and desperate for release. I ground against him, moaned out his name, tugged the ends of his hair, wishing I could make out his face. With no warning or hesitation, he thrust into me. I gasped loudly, my nails scraping down his back.

“Fuck,” he breathed as he pressed his forehead against mine and drew out slowly. “Fuck, Tessa.”

He brought his cheek against mine, the prickle of his light beard sending goose bumps down my flesh. He pressed open-mouthed kisses along my jaw, nipping and sucking his way to my earlobe as he fucked me deeper, harder, until I was panting his name and my nails were digging into his flesh so hard I was sure I’d draw blood. He pulled back slightly, bringing a hand up to my forehead, pushing my hair off of it. In the dark, I couldn’t see his eyes, but I could make out his set jaw and long nose. I brought my hand up, pressing the tips of my fingers against his full lips. He parted them and sucked my fingertips into his mouth.

“I can feel how close you are,” he said against my fingertips. “Gripping my cock so fucking tight.”

I gripped again. On purpose that time, though my body was coiled with need and crumbling in pleasure I couldn’t make up even if I wanted to. He bowed his head, his lips capturing mine again as I shattered around him and he inside me, my name a growl on his lips. He set his forehead against mine and breathed out as we caught our breaths.

“Happy birthday, Sprite.”

I wrapped my arms around him again and pulled him close, wishing I never had to let go.