FREYA CARTER
I forced my eyes back to the television.
The movie had moved on to another overly cheerful scene. The couple on the screen were arguing in the middle of a park, dramatic music playing as if the world was ending because one of them forgot a birthday.
I stared at it, but I wasn’t really watching. My mind was still stuck on the kiss. On the way Rowan had looked at me. On the way I had laughed at him.
I grabbed a handful of popcorn and put it in my mouth, chewing slowly just to have something to do.
Beside me, Rowan hadn’t moved.
He was sitting exactly the same way as before, leaning against the headboard, but the relaxed posture he had earlier was completely gone.
I could practically feel the tension radiating from him. The silence between us grew heavier with every passi
