So Many Questions

Rowan

I have a date.

A date?!

With Mr. Grey-Green Eyes. With Adam.

I wonder why he wants a date with me. My hair is greasy, my leather jacket probably should be sprayed with perfume, my boot laces are actually shredding, and I looked like a complete idiot earlier when he asked that damn question.

It doesn't make sense.

I go through with my next lecture, but my head isn't in it. When the class is dismissed, I step out with the crowd in hopes that perhaps I can evade this man. Maybe I can buy some time to change into something less worn.

Alas, my plan is foiled. Adam seems to have a way of meeting my gaze every time we pass. I curse under my breath and wave at him, changing my path to meet him. So much for giving him the slip.

I smile, but I know it looks fake by the amount of strain I experience. He's going to think I'm not interested. Wait, am I interested? "Adam. I was just going to try and change into something a little more-"

"You look great, Rowan. Let's walk." He turns on his heel and leads me, something I'm not used to. I'm much more comfortable being the one in charge of my own path. Pushy.

However, I keep my mouth closed and trot behind him. He's so much taller than I am, meaning I need to jog just to keep pace. It leaves me more breathless than when I met him, and that is saying something. I need to jog more.

It takes us about two thirds of the time I would have taken me on my own to get to my favorite coffee shop. Adam strides confidently to my corner table in the back and waits for me to catch up.

I have so many questions already. "How did you know-"

"Vanilla frappe with two shots of espresso, add extra whip? Dash of peppermint or cinnamon?" He has the gall to look me directly in the eyes while reading out my usual evening order. Same as morning, but with some added flair.

He didn't give me time to get my bearings. Again, he seems rather direct. I answer him anyway, "Uh...peppermint."

He nods and walks to the counter. Not walks...glides. He seems to glide across the floor with an air of dominance. Even the barista hesitates in front of him.

Soon he returns with our drinks. I notice he has the exact same drink for himself, only with no whip. He even takes peppermint in his frappe.

"So that's why you mistook my drink for yours this morning. Your usual is similar to mine." At least it makes more sense now. He smiles slightly.

"Yes, but the whipped cream here tastes fake so I steer clear of it. I don't usually add peppermint, but I figured if it was good enough for you it would be good enough for me." He takes a long sip of his frappe.

My brows knit together while I try to understand what he means. "This isn't Starbucks, though. I find the shop's whipped cream to be perfectly balanced in comparison to any chains." Either someone here told him my order, or he's one assuming bastard.

"I've had hot cocoa from here. Still fake to me. I'm hoping you're not fake too." No change in his tone, no pause. He said it so nonchalantly.

My voice is only a whisper due to my exasperated mental state. "Fake? Why would I be fake?" Who says that on a date?

He shrugs and focuses only on the label of his drink now. His voice lowers as well, as if he is either afraid to say it - which I highly doubt - or the statement wasn't meant for anyone else's ears. "The rest were fake. But I think you're different."

I feel my shoulders sag in relief. I am not fake, I never have been. I don't try to please others; I only do my best. My oil-secreting scalp should prove it. "Good. I'm glad you don't have the wrong idea."

He smirks and moves his straw in lazy circles within the cup. "Tell me about yourself, Rowan."

Now it's my turn to challenge. "You first."

"Don't deflect." I find myself frowning at the unexpected harshness of his comeback. His features remain indifferent, but that was aggressive.

I must be careful with my words. I choose the firmer route. "You're the one deflecting. As I said, you first."

He looks as if he is planning exactly how to articulate a response. I feel his eyes boring into my soul. If looks could kill, this would have sent me into the busy traffic outside. After a minute or two, he sighs and mutters a little information to appease me. "My mother was a cruel woman and every girl I've dated ended up the same. They all met unfortunate endings. Your turn."

Unfortunate endings? What does that mean?

"Wait, what do you-?"

"It's not important. You should feel honored I said as much as I did." I feel his icy walls invading my warm ones and infecting my greenery. This isn't good.

"My parents are good people and I have never dated anyone before. I think I should go now, Adam. You don't seem interested in this conversation." I get up quickly and swing my bag over my shoulder, leaving my frappe on the table. I step through the doors and right onto the crosswalk, seeing the walking light is lit. I hurry to the subway before I have a chance to process what happened in the coffee shop.

I'm turning the corner to enter my correct train's path and feel a hand on my shoulder. I grasp for my pepper spray before a strong hand catches my wrist from behind and someone presses up against my back securely. He whispers in my ear, "I simply came to return your jacket and ask to see you home."

Adam. His musky scent envelopes me and I become acutely aware of how close his lips are to my ear. He must have hurt his neck to crane it so far downward toward me.

"You can let go now." I sound as if I'm panting. Oh god, I am. Why am I reacting this way? Is it shock? Fear? Or something else entirely?

"Only if you keep your hands off that pepper spray. I don't fancy a milk wash for my eyes today." He chuckles softly and I have to close my eyes to appreciate that warm, dark sound. His voice is so enchanting.

I forget to respond but I do lower my hand. He lets go of my wrist, but his now free hand brushes the hair off my shoulder. He feels the ends of my mid-length strands, not in any hurry to let me go. I don't mind it, though. He feels so warm against me.

What am I thinking? He could be planning to take advantage of me! Such an idiot!

I step away and turn around to face the man who has occupied too much of my day. I should be studying. "Thank you for bringing me my jacket. I'll take it and be on my way." I can't meet his eyes for fear that I may turn to a puddle.

"I would like to walk you home. It's not safe for women like you right now." His face shows real concern and I somehow feel more at ease now that he's here. I nod and let him follow me, completely dazed.

We are both silent on the subway ride to the station by my apartment building. When we get to my street, he breaks the silence first. "You really haven't been on a date before tonight?"

I shake my head no in response, blushing profusely. "Twenty years old already and not even a first kiss." I laugh softly and as his eyes widen, I realize I said that out loud. How embarrassing...

"Not even a first kiss? How is that possible?" Adam has stopped walking, eliminating any possibility of escape for me.

"I just haven't been interested in anyone. School has always been first in my mind. I guess no one has ever-"

Before I can blink my back is against the wall of my own apartment building and his perfect face is inches from mine, his body pinning mine and his arms trapping my head on either side. His breath tickles my skin as he softly asks, "But you're interested in me?"

I gulp nervously and just give in. "Yes, Adam."

Several things happen at once. My arms are above my head, kept there against the brick of the complex by one of his hands. His other hand is in my hair, pulling it downward gently so that my face is titled upward. His body leaves me no space to breathe properly. His lips....so nimble and domineering.

He kisses me as if he will never see me again. His mouth moves mine, helping me navigate through his intensity. This time I may actually end up on the ground, whether it be by melting under his body or by my knees giving way.

"Mm!!" He instantly backs up a foot or two, satisfied with his work. I stand frozen in place, perplexed. He bit me! I touch my lower lip and see red under the streetlights of my building.

"Why did you bite me?!" I'm louder than I meant to be, but it's fine. This insolent asshole made me bleed!

He smirks and chuckles the same way as earlier in the subway station. "I wanted to see your reaction. Goodnight, Rowan."

I'm left on the sidewalk feeling both confused and giddy. That kiss was amazing. He is amazing. Those grey-green eyes are just the beginning of his appeal.