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“But I told Rowan why we’re meeting. You heard me.”
Cammie let out a sigh and put her hand on her forehead. “You might be the dumbest smart person I know.”
Avery had been flirting pretty hard. I’d just wanted to get her out of the office without pissing her off more, but I could see how the amount of time we spent in the hallway might have given the wrong impression. “So, you think I should text Rowan and tell her I’m not interested in Avery?”
Cammie threw her hands up in the air. “No, Cal. You should text Avery and say you’re happy to meet her at Karma for coffee tomorrow morning. Drinks on a Friday night sends a signal you don’t want to send. Then you’re going to call Rowan and say you messed up and ask her to dinner. Somewhere with candles and tablecloths.”
“Right,” I said grabbing my phone. “Candles and tablecloths.”
“Antonia’s is nice and walking distance from Sullivan Street. You can both have a drink and laugh about this.”
I put my phone down. “Or Uber,” I said, remembering how much pain Rowan had been in during her session. “I don’t want her to walk too far after she worked so hard here.”
Cammie’s eyes softened. “She needs to build strength, Cal. Even if it hurts.”
I nodded. But the thought of seeing Rowan in pain again twisted my stomach into knots. What was wrong with me? I saw patients hurting every day. Hell, I’d seen Rowan wince more times than I could count.
“Thanks, Cam,” I said, rubbing my forehead.
She recognized the dismissal and left, but not without shooting me a worried look.
I’m not sure when it happened, but I could no longer deny I felt something for Rowan. Instead of calling her or texting Avery, I stared at my closed office door, contemplating how best to get myself out of the mess I’d made.
Chapter twenty-four
Rowan
My heart pounded asI checked my reflection in the mirror.
“You look fantastic,” Lauren said behind me.
I’d borrowed another of her flirty dresses, this one a soft pink with a skirt that swirled when I moved. Lauren dug around in her closet and handed me a rose gold clutch that matched the dangly earrings she’d lent me as well.
“You have the best date wardrobe,” I said, peering into her closet. Lauren wore black leggings, a plain t-shirt, and an apron to work. The abundance of dresses seemed odd.
She shrugged. “I go on a lot of dates.”
“But how many see you in more than one outfit?”
“Plenty. Plus, you have to dress for the occasion. You can’t wear the same thing to a rodeo you’d wear to a five-star restaurant.”
I clutched the soft skirt while she went through her impressive belt collection. I wanted to ask why she’d never had a boyfriend. She had friends with benefits, one-night stands, and theoccasional guy she dated once or twice before cutting him loose. The relationship habits of my best friend and the man who’d burrowed into my heart were shockingly similar.
“Why are you afraid to fall in love?” I asked.
She dropped the belt she was holding, then fumbled to pick it up. When she turned to face me, she’d plastered a smile on her face. “I’m not afraid. I’m too busy. Here, I think this turquoise belt will add just the right pop of color.”
“Lauren?”
She shook her head and held out the belt. I knew, from years of abbreviated conversations, the subject was closed. I sighed and adjusted the belt on my waist.
“Perfect,” Lauren said, clapping her hands.
Poppy burst through Lauren’s front door as we walked into the living room. “The hearse is leaving, and no one is behind the counter,” she said. “Let’s go. I have ten minutes to get home and load my sculpture, or I’ll be late for critique group.”
Poppy looked me up and down and nodded. “Nice.”
“You’re welcome to borrow my clothes too,” Lauren said.
