Madly

Chapter Four

Sleep gripped Rowyn tightly for the first time in months and when she woke, the blurry clock that sat above the TV came into focus. She blinked once; then twice, bolting upright and onto her feet when she realized she’d slept in. Today was her date with Wes. He’d knocked on her door last night, told her to be ready by ten in the morning, not to wear a dress and to make sure she was in running shoes.

She had exactly seventy-nine minutes.

Ugh.

She’d need more than half that time to look presentable.

She folded the blanket she’d used in a near perfect square before tucking it and her pillow away in the closet. She tied her hair back with the elastic she kept on her wrist and started to hum as she fluffed the couch cushions until the evidence of her sleep the night before was gone.

This wasn’t her. She didn’t hum or fluff couch cushions. She didn’t get all beautifully flustered at the mere thought of a guy.

But he wasn’t just any guy, was he?

He was pretty much everything she’d never had since she dated Brady Gardner in ninth grade. Rowyn had entertained the idea being with Brady forever—until his parents took away that forever by moving to Mississippi. Now Brady wasn’t much more than a memory and a text message twice a year.

She considered sending a text to her friend Sydney to tell her about Wes and his grocery store heroics; maybe she’d even mention the ‘v’ for no other reason than promoting a healthy dose of best-friend jealousy. It would be payback for the time Sydney’s parents took her to the Hamptons for the summer and she flooded Rowyn’s cell phone with images of A-list celebrities while Rowyn sat at home and watched pay-per-view movies of those same people. 

It was pretty safe to assume that if Syd saw him first, there’d be competition. Rowyn ran the mental scenario through her head of Wes being stolen from under her nose and opted not to text or call. Besides, her little sleep in this morning meant her time was running out. No time for texting. No time for yoga. She had to do something, so she decided on a quick run on the treadmill.

She turned on the TV and navigated to the music channel for background noise, changed into her sweats and a t-shirt and stepped onto the treadmill, setting the incline and her program before hitting the start button. For the next fifteen minutes, she ran full on, her mind swimming with thoughts about what Wes might have planned.

Following her run, she showered, keeping her hair twisted in a towel on top of her head while she made herself toast and a glass of juice. After that, she selected high-waisted shorts with military style buttons and decided to pair them with a black and white striped t-shirt. It didn’t exactly go with the running shoes but she slipped a pair of flats into her bag as back up.

Her hair was still damp, so she blow-dried it, braiding two pieces on each side and then pulling it into a high ponytail. She finished her look with a little bit of eyeliner, mascara and lip-gloss.

Stepping back to inspect her work, she was impressed. She just hoped Wes would be too.

Wes hung up the phone and turned to his brother. “Everything’s set.” He looked at his watch. “I’ll see you later.”

Keaton turned his attention back to the bowl of cereal he was eating. “You’re crazy,” he said between bites. 

Wes tucked his wallet in his jeans and grabbed his keys. “You’d be wise to take notes, young grasshopper. I am awesome.”

“Better go,” Keaton said. “Before your head gets too big to fit through the door.”