I shot him a look. “He couldn’t have meant it.”
Rowan raised an eyebrow. “That was fast.”
“He barely knows me,” I said, words tumbling out now that they’d started. “He knows the version of me that tutors him and sleeps with him and makes stupid jokes about Stats. That’s not…that’s not the whole picture.”
Rowan shrugged. “Nobody gets the whole picture in a couple of months. That’s kind of how time works.”
“You know what I mean,” I said. “I’m not fun. I don’t like parties. I don’t like crowds. I overthink everything. I correct people. I stress out about things that don’t matter. I’m not someone’s boyfriend material, Rowan. I’m a phase at best.”
Rowan snorted. “You literally just described half the population of this house.”
“That’s different,” I insisted. “Jason’s world is…big. And loud. People want things from him all the time. I don’t fit into that. I’d slow him down. I’d embarrass him. I’d be the weird guy everyone asks, ‘How did that happen?’ about.”
The toaster buzzed innocently, unaware it was about to be dragged into an existential crisis.
Rowan watched me for a moment, expression unreadable. Then he sighed and rubbed his face. “Okay. Counterpoint.”
I waited.
“He already loves you,” Rowan said, like he was stating the weather.
I laughed, sharp and disbelieving. “No, he doesn’t.”
“He does.”
“You don’t just…”
“You do,” Rowan interrupted. “Some people do. Some people see something and go all in. That’s Jason. That’s not a bug. That’s the feature.”
“He’s going to wake up one day and realize he made a mistake,” I said quietly. “That he didn’t sign up for this. For me.”
“Who hurt you?” he asked, half-sarcastic, half actually asking me this.
“No one,” I said. And that was true. I had never, ever let anyone hurt me. I had never lowered the magnetic shields because the asteroid belt was always around me. No. I wouldn’t let myself be hurt.
Rowan pushed off the counter and stepped closer, voice softer but no less certain. “He’s already seen enough to know exactly what he’s signing up for, and you’re the one assuming you’re unlovable because it feels safer than believing someone actually chose you.”
The toaster popped with a loudding. I tried not to read the symbolism too much.
I stared at the bread as it rose, golden this time, perfectly fine, and felt something uncomfortable coil tighter in my chest.
Rowan reached over and plucked one slice out. “See?” he said. “Even your toast improves on the second try.”
I didn’t smile. “I don’t want to hurt him,” I said.
Rowan met my eyes. “Then stop deciding for him.”
The silence stretched, filled only by the faint hum of the kitchen and the smell of not-burnt toast.
I swallowed. “That’s not fair,” I said.
Rowan shrugged. “Neither is assuming the guy who looked like he was ready to combust just saying your name doesn’t know his own feelings.”
I stood there, hands braced on the counter, heart thudding too loud in my chest.
Jason’s voice echoed in my head, unguarded and earnest.
I love you.