An imposing figure crowds into my space. Tall. Protective. Warm. Unshakeable hands grip my shoulders, drawing my gaze up.
Rowan’s removed his helmet. I noticed his blue eyes before when I ran up to him on the sidewalk, but seeing them in light of his entire face makes him even more striking. A breeze stirs his dark hair to life from where it’s been flattened beneath his helmet.
He glances over his shoulder, then shifts in front of me. “Hannah,” he murmurs through clenched teeth. “I’m sure you’re more than justified in whatever emotional meltdown you need to have, but wouldyou mind picking your dress up off the ground and holding it like you were before?”
My gown is already garbage as far as I’m concerned. I drag my hands coated in the mascara tears I’ve cleared from my face over the waist of the pristine white fabric, carefully avoiding the jacket he gave me. Ifdying raccoonwere an aesthetic, it’d be me right now. “This dress and the man I was wearing it for can eat shit for all I care.”
Hands I shouldn’t find as soothing as they are move over my arms, eyes bouncing between mine for several long beats.
Two men pass in my periphery and Rowan shifts again. “Okay,” he says, voice tight as he tracks the men all the way inside before looking back at me. “I’ll be the first in line to help you light this dress on fire, but I’m more concerned with the fact that there’s only about two inches of fabric keeping me and the rest of the world from knowing what color your panties are.”
I suck in a sharp breath, swallowing hard. Another small gust of wind sweeps in, and I feel it then. My leg is completely exposed. I had to rip the seam if I had any hope of getting on that motorcycle, but the slit must have split even further when I climbed on the bike.
“And that garter is making things hella worse,” he rasps, breath hot in my ear. I’m suddenly aware of how close we are.
I ease back and move to slide the garter down my leg while he scoops up my train. The garter gets caught on my heel, but he’s there, freeing the elastic over my shoe with one hand, my dress bundled in the other. I take the mess of fabric from him, positioning it across my waist as we both stand upright again.
“So, Hannah…” He twirls the garter around his finger. “May I?”
We eye the trash can about ten feet away. I chuckle and extend a broad arm in front of me. “Be my guest.”
He slingshots the garter into the garbage on the first try. The thick layer of dark scruff on his face does nothing to conceal the boyish dimples that pop on his cheeks when he smiles at me.
This guy is cute. And handsome. Today I realize for the first time those are two very different things. Rowan isboth.
“Good shot.”
He just shrugs. “What now? Is this a twenty-minute breather or ablink twice if you need helpkind of escape?”
“Oh, I’m definitely not going back,” I answer with zero hesitation. “But I also don’t really have a plan either.” I sweep the busy lot of the gas station noting the looks of pity coming from every direction. Nope, it’s not just in the movies folks. I am, indeed, a runaway bride scorned.
“You got location tracking on your phone?”
I blink back at him. “Huh?”
“On your phone? If you don’t want to be found you might wanna turn that off.”
“Right,” I rush out, pulling my cell from where I have it tucked in my dress. The bodice left no room for a bra, but the structure of the low-cut neckline is tight enough to hold my phone in place.
I tap around the screen until I successfully deactivate location tracking. Perhaps I should have thought to use that feature months ago when my fiancé was “working late” or getting summoned to “business conferences” at the last minute.
Dozens of notifications litter my text messages. I only respond to one.
Mom
Whatever it is, I’ve got your back. Just let me know you’re okay.
Me
I’m not coming back. I promise I’m safe, though. I’ll be in touch tomorrow. Love you!
With my phone silenced, I look back to Rowan who holds my gaze with a watchful expression.
“Well, I really appreciate your help, but I don’t want to put you out. I can get an Uber and?—”
“And go where?” He cocks his head.
No idea.I puff out my cheeks, blowing out a dramatic rush of air a second later.