Chapter 2 02

02

Rowan

“Let go! What the hell has gotten into you?” I yelled, yanking my hand away from his grip.

My attempt to make him let me go failed, but he loosened his hold anyway, his bloodshot eyes boring into mine. I avoided his gaze, my lips pinned into a tight scowl.

What was his business, anyway? Wasn't he having fun too? Did I bother him?

His scent filled my nose as he neared me, impossibly close now. He reached for the collar of my shirt, creasing the fabric with the tightness of his fist.

The last thing I’d allow right now was for Max to bully or baby me. “Fuck off,” I snapped, hitting his hand hard in an attempt to knock it away. Instead, he gripped harder, the veins in his arm becoming more prominent and pulsing.

Dragging my eyes from his veiny hand, I slowly lifted my head to look at his face. I wanted to prove I wasn't scared of him, that if he attempted to bully me, I was ready to fight it out once and for all. Surprisingly, his grip didn't match his expression. As soon as I looked him in the eyes, it felt as though his resolve had softened. But before I could find hope in it or misinterpret the moment, his words made the reason clear.

“You're having a nosebleed.”

My finger immediately went to my nose, and I touched the liquid, bringing it down to see. Why was I having a nosebleed? Was I that weak? I wasn't even the one who got punched.

His grip on my collar loosened, and his hand moved to the bare skin of my neck.

“Don't touch me. Just fuck off.”

“Stay calm. I don't want to fight,” he drawled.

He didn't want to fight, huh? As if I'd ever made an attempt to fight him. Wasn't he always the one out to pick on me?

Goosebumps covered my skin at his surprisingly warm touch. I shut my eyes, hoping he wouldn't notice the way my body was reacting, as he supported my neck with one hand and used the other to tilt my jaw up. “This should hold it in,” he said.

I wasn't focused at all. If his body hadn't held mine in support, my legs would have turned to jelly and I would have slumped to the ground. I should have been focused on anything else, but my damn body and mind were eagerly taking in how his palm warmed the skin of my neck. He was so close that I could smell him and feel his hot breath fanning over me.

“Does it hurt?”

“Yes,” I said, answering before I even processed the question.

Wait, what hurts?

“What?” I added immediately.

“Your nose. Does it feel better now?” he inquired, finally letting go.

I brought my head down and shook it. “I don't know. I wouldn't know; I'm not a doctor.”

Oh god, Rowan. You’re the one who would know if it hurts or not. What does a doctor have to do with that? My mind made fun of me.

To cover my ignorance, I added, “It’ll be okay, I guess.”

Under the bright lights, my eyes went to his lips on their own accord. I could almost see the blonde again, pressing her body against his and kissing him. The thought irritated me so much that I hissed out loud. I only realized I’d made a sound when he spoke.

“Go wash your nose. I'll drive you home.”

With that, he pulled his phone from his pocket, already turning his back to me and wading away.

“Whatever,” I muttered. I didn't care if he heard me as I walked toward the restroom.

I heaved a sigh once I was in front of the wall mirror, resisting the urge to look at my reflection and see what a coward I was. Why had I even agreed to follow him out tonight? I should have made an excuse to Mom and stopped letting her control me. Even if everyone else saw me as a kid, I was no puppy to be petted.

I dug my hands into my hair, wanting to tear at the strands. “It's normal to feel this way. You don't have feelings for him. He's just an asshole.”

Repeating the mantra, I turned on the tap, lowered my head, and splashed cold water onto my face. Once I was finished, I took a deep breath and raised my head. I froze. Stone-cold eyes were boring into mine through the mirror. Max was standing right there, unmoving and unblinking.

I turned around slowly, my mouth open to say something, but nothing came out. Seeing Max look so softened and almost nervous sparked something inside me, though I wasn't sure what it was.

“I'm sorry,” he finally said, breaking the silence.

I tilted my head. For what? I wanted to ask, but I just blinked.

“For acting erratic,” he said, lowering his gaze. He let the words settle as if he were holding himself back from saying more. “I wasn't thinking straight when I saw you kiss that guy. I just lost it. For that, I'm sorry.”

Max never apologizes. He had never apologized to me, ever. Not when he bullied me or made fun of me in front of his friends. Why was he apologizing now? Does he actually like me, or what?

Slumping my shoulders, I kept my eyes downcast and heaved a sigh.

“I said I'm sorry. Why are you being so stubborn?” he snapped, his sudden volume catching me off guard.

What was with that tone? This was the real Max I knew; that didn't surprise me. I turned back to the sink to shut off the tap, but his hand landed on top of mine. His hot breath fanned against my earlobe.

I opened my mouth to say something, but not only did nothing come out, I also wasn't sure what caused the sudden nausea. I felt a sharp urge to throw up, so I doubled over and heaved, beginning to empty my stomach into the sink.

Max rubbed my back, which helped ease the tension a little. He held me to help me stand steady. “My throat is dry. My head's spinning. I'm so thirsty.”

“You're drunk,” Max drawled. “You shouldn't have drunk that shit.”

I slumped my shoulders in tiredness, managing to stare him down with a side-eye. “I'm just a silly kid, aren't I?” I giggled stupidly.

A beat passed, and suddenly Max smashed his lips against mine.

“What the hell, Max!” I wasn't sure why I shouted or reacted like that, but I pushed him with the last of my strength.