Page 30 of He Falls First
“Absolutely not,” Rowan says. “What kind of man would I be to let a woman sleep on the floor? Ladies, you take the bed. I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“Rowan, you’re my guest. I can’t possibly let you…”
But he’s already spread out on the floor, tucking the blanket up under his chin and letting out a big, fake yawn. “Just as I thought. Much more comfortable than the beds at the station.” Such a dork, and I love him.
Wait. I love him?
Heck, maybe I do. Rowan is the kindest, gentlest, and most selfless person I’ve ever met. I can see him running into a burning building, rescuing kittens from trees, diving into the lake to rescue a helpless swimmer. It’s written all over him in the way he treats people, and I love that about him.
Most of all, he treats everyone the same, yet he makes me feel like the only woman in the world whenever I’m around him.
How could I keep looking after this?
After Esme is tucked into bed, I make the rounds and turn out the lamps one by one. Then I hop into bed on the side closest to where Rowan sleeps.
And we wait for the whispers. The quiet scratches.
But the only sounds that fill the room are that of our sleepy conversation. I lie on my side and wait for my eyes to adjust to the darkness until I can make out the shape of Rowan on the floor.
“You guys are awesome for doing this,” Esme says dreamily.
“Hush. It’s no trouble. We’ve had fun, haven’t we, Rowan?”
“Yep,” my firefighter murmurs, his voice creaky with tiredness.
After a few minutes, Esme’s breathing evens out.
“She’s asleep,” I whisper in the dark.
“We did good,” Rowan says.
I quietly chuckle. “Why does it sound like we’re parents who just successfully put their baby down for a nap?”
He laughs softly. Something bumps the side of the bed, and after it startles me, I realize that Rowan’s hand is searching for mine.
I slide my hand off the side of the bed and let him find me. He holds my hand and squeezes it.
“We make a good team,” he says.
I’m not sure at what time I ended up on the floor cuddled against Rowan’s chest. It was after I got up to pee. When Ipadded back to the bed, he was lying there asleep, so solid and comfy looking. I had to curl up next to him. He thumped his arm around me, kissed the top of my head, and mumbled something.
“Hm?”
He must have been talking in his sleep because I heard him slur the words, “I love you, B.”
I lay awake with a dopey grin for hours, happily covering the night watch for my friend.
The next morning, I wake up to Esme shaking me. Her eyes are shining, and she smiles from ear to ear.
“What? What is it? What did I miss?”
“It’s done,” she says. “The ghosts. They didn’t come back.”
I have to shove the still-sleeping Rowan’s arm from over my middle so I can sit up straight and have a face-to-face conversation with Esme.
His gentle snoring continues.
“You didn’t hear anything last night?”