Keir

Rowan emerges from my bathroom wrapped in my bathrobe and smelling like my soap. Her hair is wrapped in a towel on top of her head, and her skin is fresh and bright.

I could eat her alive all over again, but I have to play the part of the doting boyfriend-to-be, which means this can’t be all about sex all the time.

I need to actually pretend I like her … which is proving to be much easier than I anticipated.

“Your clothes.” I place three bags from Saks Fifth Avenue on the bed before checking my watch. “We’re leaving in an hour.”

Leaving my room, I close the door behind me and wait in the living room, which smells like remnants of this morning’s breakfast. I didn’t expect her to cook this morning, in fact I’d planned to order in, but she offered and right now, she’s getting anything she wants.

I need to keep her happy. String her along.

I announce my candidacy in exactly thirty days, and I want her by my side, smiling in photos and making me likable, relatable.

“I’m ready.”

I glance toward the hall to find Rowan standing there, hands shoved into the pockets of a brand-new pair of jeans, a white blouse hanging slightly off her shoulders, a small gold pendant on a dainty chain hanging just below her collarbone.

Her hair is still slightly damp, growing wavy as it dries, and parted on one side. There’s not an ounce of makeup on her … but she might be the only woman I know who doesn’t need it.

“I hope this is okay,” she says, spinning in a pair of pointy flats with little studs on them. She’s fresh-faced and looking like a girl-next-door “You didn’t tell me where we’re going so I just had her get me this …”

“It’s perfect,” I say, rising and texting my driver. Gazing across the room, I study Rowan, losing my train of thought for a second.

“What?” Her nose wrinkles.

I refuse to tell her that I’m … kind of … sort of … looking forward to spending the day with her.

“Nothing. Let’s go.” I take her by the hand and lead her out of my apartment, where my agents are waiting to escort us downstairs. I don’t let her go until she’s in the back of my Cadillac. When I climb beside her, I tell the driver, “Take us to Reagan.”

“Reagan as in the airport?” she asks, brow lifted. “Are we flying somewhere?”

“You’ll see when we get there.” I flash a half-smirk and take her hand, giving it a squeeze the way an affectionate boyfriend might.

My driver heads toward the Washington Memorial Parkway and Rowan sits quietly beside me, checking her phone and turning every so often to tell me how excited she is to spend the day with me.

It’s strange how quickly she flipped. I expected it to be gradual and to take a lot more work on my end, but maybe the whole “I don’t want to date anyone” things was an act, a defense mechanism of her own. Makes sense, seeing how she was recently scorned.

Within twenty minutes, we arrive at Gravelly Point.

“We’re plane spotting?” she asks, sitting up and unbuckling her seatbelt.

“We are.”

The driver kills the engine. One of my agents climbs out of the passenger seat in front while the others exit our tail car. When it’s all clear, they wave for us to exit.

The park is moderately busy today, but my guys will keep the gawkers at bay. By the time we’re lying on the grass, feeling the rumble of the first plane, it’ll feel like it’s just the two of us.

Slipping my hand around hers, I lead her to a grassy field surrounded by trees, blue sky, and the Washington Monument in the distance. We find a secluded area on a small hill next to a chain link fence, slightly away from the masses, and one of my agents hands me a flannel blanket from the back of his car.

Spreading it out, I motion for Rowan to take a seat. “Have you ever done this before?”

“I haven’t, but I’ve always wanted to.” She lowers herself to the ground, wrapping her arms around her knees as she glances up at me with sparkling blue eyes. “What are you waiting for, babe?”

Babe.

We’ve had sex a handful of times and now we’re on a nickname basis?

Not my thing, but whatever.

I’ll go with it because I have to.

Taking the spot beside her, I lean back, resting my hands beneath my head and gazing up at a clear sky. The soft rumble of a plane in the distance cuts through the tranquil breeze. Rowan lies down beside me, resting her hand on my chest and her head on my shoulder, lashes fluttering as she gazes up at me.

It’s a sweet moment, and if we were actual sweethearts, it’d be worthy of one of those ridiculously annoying couple selfies people post on Instagram with a dozen obnoxious hashtags.

“Ready?” I ask her, pointing toward an orange and blue Southwest jet coming in for a landing. The sky above us begins to rumble, like manmade thunder, and my heart’s pace quickens. “There’s no other feeling like this, Rowan. I promise you that.”

She situates herself flat on her back, head still resting on my shoulder, and peers up, watching and waiting. The quick snap of the plane’s landing gear precedes the brute force of wind that presses down on us as the sky darkens momentarily.

My chest rumbles, my body reverberating.

I feel it.

I feel it all.

The roar of the jet passes us, growing distant before it touches down several hundred feet away. Just like that, it’s quiet again.

And so is she.

“What’d you think?” I ask.

Rowan’s hand is on her chest and she’s breathing fast. For a second, I wonder if she’s having an internal meltdown, but when her pink mouth curves, I’m relieved. I can’t deal with a freak out. I’m not good at comforting people.

“That. Was. Amazing.” Her face is lit, eyes wide as she searches the sky for the next one. Rowan’s chest rises and falls in quick succession. “My heart is beating so fast right now. Here. Feel it.”

Grabbing my hand, she places it over her galloping heart.

“Intense, right?” I ask.

“Now I know what I’ve been missing out on all these years,” she says. “How did you know about this place?”

“When I was a kid,” I say, “and I was home for school breaks or holidays or whatever, sometimes my dad would travel to DC for work. He was a senator for many years and later a governor. Anyway, since we didn’t get to spend much time together, he’d let me tag along. And at night, after work, he’d take me here to feel the planes land. And he’d always say, ‘Keir, sometimes it’s okay to feel small. We all need a reminder every now and again that there are things much bigger, much more powerful than we are.’”

“Wow.”

“I never knew what he meant, not until I was much older,” I say. “Then one day, I realized what he meant. He was telling me to stay humble.”

“And did you?” she asks. “Did you stay humble?”

Sitting up, I bend my legs and prop my elbows on my knees, staring toward the fence, scoffing. “What do you think?”

Rowan rises, scooting close and nudging me with her shoulder. “I wouldn’t call you humble.”

She wouldn’t be wrong.

“As a kid, all I cared about was spending time with my dad,” I say. “So I never really let his words sink in until it was too late.”

“It’s never too late.”

“I’m pretty far gone, don’t you think? I mean, I’m about as arrogant as they come.”

Resting her chin on my arm, she hums. “I don’t know. I think deep down, beneath the expensive suits and the perfectly styled hair and the shiny shoes … there’s a man who wants to do good things, who has a good heart.”

“Good” isn’t a word anyone’s ever used to describe me.

Not even my own mother.

“I don’t know about that,” I say.

“You’ve done kind things for me. Helping my sister, bringing me ice cream,” she says. “You’re a good person. You might be a recovering man whore, but that doesn’t make you a bad person. Bad people hurt others. They’re selfish, and they don’t care how their actions affect anyone else. You’re not like that, Keir.”

The rumble of a second plane readying to land grows louder, and I lie back down. I don’t want to talk about myself anymore, about my “good” heart.

“Come on,” I tug on her blouse until she lies back down with me and we wait for the rumble and thunder and gush of wind that presses our bodies to the ground.

My heart races again the second it passes, the belly of the plane feeling so close, like I could reach out and touch it even though it’s easily a hundred feet above.

I could watch a million of these jets fly over and it would never get old.

“How often do you come here?” she asks after the second plane passes.

“It’s been a while,” I say. “Too long, really.”

“What made you decide to bring me here?”

I wasn’t planning to spend the day with her until she said she was making me breakfast. Realizing that I was beginning to have her right where I needed her, like a butterfly seconds from becoming trapped in my net but still just beyond my reach, I needed to keep it going. I didn’t want to lose the momentum.

Truthfully, I don’t have a lot of “daytime appropriate” hobbies. I knew we wouldn’t be hungry for lunch after the breakfast she made. Not really into movies unless I’m watching them in the comfort of my own home, away from gawkers with cell phone cameras. Drinking in the early afternoon would earn me an insufferable lecture from Connor. My options were extremely limited.

“You’re special, Rowan,” I say after a beat. “So I wanted to take you somewhere special.”

My words taste like bullshit and lies.

I don’t talk like this.

I never even uttered this kind of sugary nonsense to my ex-fiancée, Serena. But I smile at Rowan. I do everything I can to make sure she believes that I’m this guy … this “good” guy falling hopelessly head over heels.

“Aw …” Rowan leans closer, kissing me softly, her palm pressed against my cheek. It’s a sweet moment. And she’s a sweet girl. “I’m beginning to think I was wrong about you.”

The roar of another plane steals our attention and silences our conversation if only temporarily.

“I wish I could feel a hundred of these,” she says, exhaling.

“Three down,” I say before pointing upward. “And there’s four.”

“How much time do you have?”

“For you? All the time in the world.” I pull her close, into my arm, and kiss her forehead. Somewhere inside, somewhere deep and hidden and buried, I know I should feel bad about this.

And maybe someday I will.

I’m going to hurt her.

There’s no question.

But right now, I can’t think about that.

I have a job to do.

* * *

Rowan rests against her apartment door Saturday night, covering her yawn with the back of her hand. Her eyes are glassy, half-closed. It’s been a long day. I don’t know if I’ve ever spent this much time with someone in one long stretch.

After breakfast and plane spotting, she took me to Union Market where we ate from food carts, browsed homemade pottery and paintings, and talked one of my agents into snapping a half a dozen ridiculous photos of us in front of the infamous Heart Wall mural.

“I had a nice time with you today, Montgomery.” She gazes up at me, hands clasped in front of her waist.

“I know.”

“Oh, you know, do you?” She chuckles. “So sure of yourself.”

“Told you, I’m not good at being humble.”

Her full mouth tugs upward. “At least you’re honest.”

I chuff. “Right.”

“You going to kiss me goodnight or what?” her voice is a sweet whisper and our gazes hold.

Rowan is beautiful and kind and effervescent.

And I don’t deserve her.

But this isn’t about merit.

My hands circle her waist and she smiles as I lean closer, claiming her sleepy grin for the millionth time today.

I’ve done a lot of that today—kissing her.

And I kind of like it.

She’s easy to kiss. She’s easy to want to kiss. The way her face lights and she does a little jump. I don’t even think she knows she’s doing it half the time.

“Goodnight, Keir,” she says, placing her hand on my chest and ending the kiss.

“Rowan.”

“Yes?”

“What made you change your mind about me?” I ask the question that’s been tucked away in the back of my mind for the better part of today.

I knew it would come to this, I just didn’t know it would be this instant.

Her eyes widen and her mouth is slightly agape. “Oh. Um …”

I’ll wait. I’ll wait as long as it takes to get my answer. If I don’t, curiosity will bore into me all night and I won’t get so much as an hour of sleep.

“I just …” she hesitates. “I like spending time with you.”

“But you said you didn’t want a relationship and then suddenly you’re calling me ‘babe’ and making me breakfast,” I say. “Not that I don’t like those things. I fucking love that you’re all about me. I’m just wondering what made you go from zero to sixty.”

“Does it matter?” She smiles, shrugging.

“It does to me.”

Her expression fades. “Do we really know why we do what we do half the time?”

“Now you’re getting all philosophical on me just so you can avoid a simple question?” I ask.

“I like you, okay?” she says, arms folded. “I tried not to. I really did. But you’re so persistent. And good looking. And nice. And amazing in bed.”

“Go on.” I smirk.

Rowan smacks my arm. “There. You got your answer, okay? I think you’re incredible, Keir. And I want to date you. I want to spend every second of every day with you because you’re the only thing I think about anymore, and when I’m with you, I’m thinking about my future in a way that makes me excited. And I haven’t felt that way with anyone else. Not in a while.”

“You see yourself with me?” I ask, teeth raking my bottom lip. “In the future?”

I mentally calculate the number of days since we first met. It hasn’t even been a month yet.

This is insane.

She nods. “I do … no pun intended.”

My exterior is a carefully crafted veneer of calm, but inside it’s taking everything I have not to walk away and never look back. And if she were any other woman, I would do just that.

“Goodnight, Rowan.” I kiss her again, my mouth lingering on hers, and then I watch her disappear inside her apartment. As soon as she’s gone, I make my way to the elevator and drag my hands through my hair, releasing a breath I’d been holding far too long. “Fuck.”

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I call Connor.

“What’s up?” He answers on the fourth ring, yelling over what sounds like a cheap sports bar in the background. “Keir?”

“Where the hell are you? Why is it so loud?”

“Virginia Tech is playing,” he says. “Give me a second.”

“I don’t have all night.” The elevator doors part and my guys are standing, waiting on the other side.

“Okay, I’m here. What’s going on?” It’s quieter now. He must have gone outside, thank God.

“She’s crazy,” I say. “She’s out of her fucking mind.”

“What?” He laughs, like he thinks I’m kidding.

“This morning she made me breakfast, she’s been calling me ‘babe’ all day, and tonight she said she sees a future with me.” I exhale as I climb into the back of my SUV. “A week ago she wanted nothing to do with me and now she wants to fucking marry me? What’s wrong with her, Connor? She’s defective or something. You wanted a nice, normal-looking relationship? There’s nothing normal about this. She’s—”

“—Keir, Keir. Slow down. Stop. Time out,” Connor says. “This is okay. This is what we want. Okay, yeah. At first, she tried to resist you, but she’s clearly accepted the fact that she’s crazy about you. All your perseverance paid off. She likes you. Congrats.”

“What if …” My thoughts trail. I don’t even want to finish them. Not out loud.

“What if what?”

“Nothing.” I exhale.

“What were you going to say?” He won’t let it go.

“What if she’s … using me? And all of this is fake? Or some kind of joke to her?” I ask. “I know it sounds crazy, but this whole thing is so over the top. I can’t help but wonder.”

“What reason would she have to use you?”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I tuck my chin and release an annoyed breath. “Seriously, Connor?”

“Oh, wait. I forgot. You’re God’s gift.” He chuckles. “Anyway, just … keep going with it. We’re announcing in less than a month and you need to show your district you’ve settled down with a nice girl and that you’re going to take your job very seriously.”

My car stops outside my building a moment later. “All right. Fine. But if I find her collecting strands of my hair or gets my name tattooed on her ass, I’m walking.”

“Fair enough,” he says. “Anyway, just keep it going. Invite her to brunch or something tomorrow so she can meet your parents. Fast track this just as much as she is.”

“You’re just as crazy as she is.”

Connor laughs. “Just do it. It’s what ‘normal’ people do when they like someone. They introduce them to their future in-laws.”

“Fuck you.” I chuckle, shaking my head before hanging up.

Heading to my apartment, I fire off a text to Rowan, inviting her to brunch tomorrow morning.

She replies in under thirty seconds with a giant “YES!” alongside a bunch of heart emojis.

Oh, God.

What have I gotten myself into?