Page 63 of Allegiant

Samson’s a fun distraction, and that’s all.

16

ROWAN

We’ve finished eating breakfast, my stomach almost uncomfortably full, when Cade leans over to speak to Samson. He talks quietly, but I hear the words nonetheless. “Wylder wants a meeting.”

Samson sighs as Cade turns toward Ansel, giving him a look. I suddenly feel like I’m intruding, but then Ansel stands up and moves toward the fridge. This time, Cade lets him walk. Aside from a very slight limp, Ansel seems fine.

“How about a mimosa and I’ll show you around?” That question is directed at me as Ansel grabs a bottle of champagne from an industrial-sized fridge, along with what looks like a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice.

My lips twitch as I join him. “Is this going to be the best mimosa I’ve ever had?”

He rolls his eyes. “Yes. It’s ridiculous, really. All of this is, but you get used to it.”

I don’t know why he thinks I need to get used to anything. Samson and I have something we’ve connected over, but it’s nothing more than that. Pretty soon it will be gone, and he’ll move on to something else.

Rich men always do.

Scratch that, all people move on in one way or another. From me, at least.

The loud pop of the champagne being opened has me jumping slightly. I turn to glance at Samson, finding him watching me intently. My cheeks warm, and I know I’m blushing as Ansel sets down two large mugs on the counter.

“Do you want something fancy? I’d rather have an excess than a pretty flute.”

I shrug, liking Ansel more and more each minute we’re together. I think we could be friends if I stick around. “I agree.”

He grins. “Good, and I think you’ll need it after I take you around. If you think this kitchen is ridiculous, wait until you see the armory.”

My mouth parts at that as someone appears beside me, almost materializing like a ghost. “Hello. You’re new.”

“He’s Samson’s.” Ansel waggles his eyebrows at the small blue-haired guy who is assessing me. He’s cute in a messy kind of way, his unironed shirt buttoned up wrong, his hair standing up as if he’s been running his hands through it.

“I know. Saw him on the cameras and wanted to meet the infamous Rowan in person.”

“Oh.” I peek over at Samson, wondering if he told his family about me, because how else would he know my name? Unless the cameras have sound and he saw me being introduced. “Well, hello. Nice to meet you…”

My voice trails off, and the guy continues to stare at me, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Ansel clears his throat. “This is Neo, my best friend and Wylder’s partner. Ignore him, he’s contrary. Neo, do you want a glass?”

Ah. The man responsible for decorating the foyer.

Neo turns his gaze from me and nods. “Yes, but just a breeze of orange juice. I’ve been up most of the night.”

“Half and half for Rowan,” Samson interjects. “He had a rough night and may feel a little sick still.”

“I’m fine.”

Samson gives me a look, and I sigh. “Okay, he’s probably right.”

Ansel nods, fills up our mugs, and puts a splash of orange juice into each one.

“I hope you’re okay,” Ansel says softly as Neo takes a large gulp of his drink.

I bob my head, feeling my throat close slightly. “I’ll be good. I always am.”

Ansel stares at me intently as Neo lets out a small burp before speaking. “Right, well that’s cryptic. But anyway, where are we going? Are we going to show him Samson’s dancing shed?”