chapter ten

Rowan texts me at around nine the next morning. The chime of the message coming in wakes me up and basically drags me out of the best sleep I've had in possibly weeks. It's kind of messed up that it takes a beating to knock me on my ass long enough to get a decent night's sleep, but I'm kind of messed up in general, so it's not like it's surprising.

Coffee?, the text reads.

I smile as I type back.

Sure :) send the address, I send in response.

Rowan meets me at a little coffee place that's only a few blocks away from my apartment. A normal League agent in their right mind would probably be a little uneasy about him knowing where I "live" and sleep, but I'm admittedly biased. Knowing Rowan exists is like a breath of much needed fresh air. I think a part of me was beginning to feel like I'm unlovable.

He's already ordered my favorite coffee by the time I get there. I told him my coffee order on our last date and I'm surprised he even remembered. I sit down opposite to him and he watches as I do, sipping at his drink patiently while I get situated.

The whole coffee shop "date" is comfortably uneventful. We sip at our drinks and talk about the meaningless aspects of life. My interest is peaked, though, when he suggests we pay a visit to a small bookstore down the street. I try to keep it cool and not get too excited when I agree. Atlas tells me I can be a real nerd sometimes and that's not exactly the persona I want to be giving off. Nerds don't deal drugs. Most nerds don't, at least. I'm not sure how many "track stars" do, but the number must be greater than the ones who choose to spend their entire day with their nose stuck in a book.

Rowan tells me all about how much he loved to read when he was growing up once we get inside the store and it makes my heart melt.

"I still do," I say without being able to stop myself, "I actually love books. Like. A lot. I'm a creative writing major."

His eyebrows shoot up but then he nods and a warm smile spreads across his face.

"Oh, yeah?" he replies, turning so he can run a finger across the line of book spines as we walk the length of the aisle. "I never woulda guessed it. You don't seem much like the type, to be honest."

"What's the type?"

"I mean, look at you, you're cut," he says, flashing me a playful smirk, "your favorite pastime is running for longer than the average Olympian and you enjoy it."

"So I don't look like a nerd is what you're trying to say?" I reply, nudging him slightly with my hip.

"Well, no, but—" he stops and groans in frustration. "You know what I mean, Lake."

I smirk.

"I do."

We continue the walk through the bookstore, checking out different books as we go. He points out one with a beautiful cover and holds it up so I can get a look at it. I recognize the author when I catch sight of his name across the bottom. I've read a few of his books before and have been meaning to pick up a copy of this latest one for a while.

"Your face just lit up," Rowan remarks, his lips quirking. "Do you want it?"

"Yeah, I've actually been meaning to buy it," I reply, reaching out to take it from him. He moves the book out of my reach.

"Let me buy it for you."

My stomach flips.

"Nah, c'mon, you don't have to," I reply, shaking my head.

He insists and we go back and forth for a few minutes until I eventually give in. I follow him down the winding aisles of bookshelves until we find our way up to the front counter. He pays for the book and by the time he finally hands it to me when we're outside on the front sidewalk, it's managed to gain a whole new meaning. It's just a book, obviously, but it's also basically a gift from my counterpart. I'll set aside how cheesy I'm being for the moment.

We walk a few blocks until stumbling upon a park and deciding to walk the path through it. The paved trail winds around this way and that, past a pond and then a large gaggle of geese. We're making our way past another pond when Rowan grabs my hand like it's the most normal thing in the entire world. People probably do this all the time, but I've never really held someone's hand before. Danny and I didn't have that kind of relationship. Jude certainly didn't waste his time on the little things, either.

I expect holding his hand to be weird for a longer time than it actually is. For a brief moment, it's bizarre, but then he sends me a warm smile and a knot in my chest loosens up significantly. I smile back stupidly, enthralled over something as elementary as a little hand-holding.

I trip over a crack in the pavement a little way further down the path. He reaches around and tries to catch me like the wonderful guy he is, but I'm suspended for only a brief second because his grip causes a flash of pain to dart across my entire rib cage. I momentarily flop around like a fish at the feeling until he ultimately loses his hold and is forced to drop me. I still hit the pavement but not as hard as I should have since his grip cushions my fall significantly. He helps me to my feet after I take a second to catch my breath on the ground. There's confusion scribbled all over his face when I finally meet his gaze.

"Sorry? I didn't mean to, um, y'know, grab you or anything," he says quietly as he shifts sheepishly from foot to foot, "didn't realize you'd...spaz out like that."

"No, it's—it's fine," I say, aiming for a humorous laugh but instead landing on a dry chuckle. "Wasn't you. There's just some bruises. Ow."

His face contorts.

"Bruises?"

"Yeah," I say, sighing as I start tugging him along so we can continue our walk. "You know how Valerie makes people. They don't have the money, they get jumpy and impulsive when they're denied their fix." I shrug and feel a little icky on the inside. Whenever I find myself slipping and forgetting about my situation with Rowan, having to lie right to his face always serves as a harsh reminder.

Rowan looks more devastated than I thought he would at the news. His face goes stony, his mouth fixing into a stale, expressionless line.

"You know, I really hate this whole thing, right?" he says suddenly. "My dad's not a good person. You're the last person I want tangled up in his twisted business." He says it so earnestly and I can't help the pang of guilt that jumps through me. He has no idea that I knew exactly what I was getting into when all of this started. Rowan is sincerely concerned about me and it's making me feel like shit because all I'm doing is lying to his face in return.

"I can take care of myself, you know," I say, smiling a bit more sadly than I mean to. "It's just part of the job, Row." At least that last part is true no matter way.

/-/-/

I drop by the tower the next day to for a mission check-in with Max. It's mostly just a formality since main headquarters in D.C. are still so uneasy about putting me in such a high stakes operation. My limited training and experience makes me a liability in their eyes, so Scofield was very clear that Max has to check in with me and the mission's progression often. Regardless, we sit alone in one of the conference rooms as per protocol so no one that isn't involved overhears anything.

"The number of casualties you've witnessed?" Max asks, peering down at a list of blank spaces he needs to fill with information. I'd normally be doing the paperwork considering it's my undercover assignment, but someone decided that it'd be best if Max handles it for my first go around.

"Zero." Easy question. Let's hope they don't get more difficult.

"Assaults?"

"One," I say after a long pause, during which I consider the way I saw Alexander treat his own son.

Max looks up at this, checking the box without looking at the page as he meets my gaze head on.

"Who?"

"Rivera's son," I reply. "Probably an ongoing situation. His dad's, like, a psycho."

He nods as he fills something in beside the box he checked.

"Why d'you think he'd stick around if he gets the shit kicked outta him?"

I shift around uncomfortably in my seat. Is this something that I should be sharing with anyone, even Max?

"His sister," I say finally. "Bella. Kid's a baby. Their mother's dead. It's possible the baby's leverage to keep his son around."

"What's the son's name again?"

"Rowan," I reply, and his name rolls off of my tongue a little too quickly.

Max's gaze swings back up to meet mine once again, but this time his eyes narrow. He takes a second to survey me for a second before speaking.

"You seem to know an awful lot about this kid," he says matter-of-factly. "Any conflicts of interest that I should know about?"

I swallow thickly. Then once more.

"No."

He raises an eyebrow.

"Off the record?"

I swallow again, sighing and looking away as I twist my fingers in knots in my lap.

"I've been...sleeping with him," I say quietly. "Been getting some good info along with it." It's not the exact truth, but it's as close to it as I can get for now.

"This is not a honeypot operation, Agent Ford," Max says sternly, addressing me formally for the first time ever.

"Of course not, I know that," I say, already shaking my head. "He's my age, hotter than he has any right to be, and I let my dick get the better of me, okay? I wouldn't be doing anything I'm uncomfortable with. Had enough shit happen to me before." I add the last bit without really thinking beforehand. The words send Max's second eyebrow soaring up into his hairline to join the other. I almost sigh out loud. I really have to learn how to filter what comes out of my mouth around the team.

"Alright," he says after a few moments. "Fine. You need to tell me if you get in too deep, Lake, you know that. Any funny business and you put an end to it, understood?"

"Yes, of course," I agree immediately.

Max continues on with the paperwork. There's no terrorism activity. There's obviously major drug activity. I tell him that Alexander is in New Jersey for the next couple of days. I describe the different characters in the gang: Chris, Caleb, Sebastian, and Isaiah. We move onto outlining goals that I need to work towards until our next check-in. The biggest one is obviously trying to get the name of their supplier.

"Rowan'll probably be the one I weasel it out of," I say thoughtfully. "Shouldn't take too long, really."

Max fixes me with a very serious expression as we're finishing the check-in. I don't even need him to say anything to know what he's thinking.

"All I'm going to say is be careful," Max says, signing the debrief sheet before tucking it into the mission file. "It's easy to get your professional and personal lives mixed in operations like these, kid. Remember what side you're on."

I agree, nodding profusely even though my heart is racing. I'm actively doing exactly what he's cautioning so severely against. My professional life and my personal life are already an inseparable clusterfuck. I'm not sure if it's love yet, but the way my stomach feels every time I think of Rowan is certainly edging towards it. I am in very deep, deeper than Max knows, but I really can't see a way out of the hole I've been happily digging myself. Maybe if I just keep digging, I'll dig through to the other end of the earth and make it out unscathed.

I just have to focus on finishing this operation for now. I can figure out this messy relationship situation once everything is settled afterwards. If there's anything left to settle, at least.