The Fine Print: Chapter 36

The knocker on our apartment door thumps three times.

“He’s here!” Ani doesn’t bother to pause our TV show as she grabs my purse and throws it into my arms.

“Who?”

“Rowan!”

My heart picks up its pace, going from a steady rhythm to erratic. “Oh, I’m sorry. You know this how?”

“He wanted to surprise you for your date.” Ani steps into my bedroom.

Date?! I’m dressed in a pair of old paint-splattered Levi’s and a sweater of the Chicago Bulls from the nineties. My fashion choice is barely suited for the local grocery store, let alone a date.

“What do you mean by date?” I call out.

“The kind where Rowan whisks you away to show you his surprise.” Ani’s yell is muffled by the distance.

Well…wow, okay. I’m all for surprises now.

“Hurry up. You’re so slow.” Ani steps out of my room with the largest suitcase I own.

“Am I moving somewhere?”

She giggles. “No, silly. Rowan asked me to pack you a couple of outfits.”

“Outfits? For what?”

She beams. “I’m under contract to not say anything else.”

“How did you even get into my apartment and pack a suitcase?”

“Claire.” Her grin is infectious.

“How far does this surprise go?” I blow a lock of hair out of my face as I grab onto the handle of my suitcase.

Ani laughs. “It’s worth it.”

My palms get slippery as I try to hold on to the luggage. I’m not sure what Rowan planned but a suitcase of this size seems like overkill.

“Don’t worry about anything. I even packed your sexy clothes.” Ani winks.

My cheeks flush. “Oh my God. You didn’t! How did you even find them?”

“A sister never reveals her secrets. Have fun!” Ani runs to my bathroom and locks herself inside.

“Claire will be home soon to make you dinner.”

“Bye, Mom! Stop worrying about me!”

I tug the door open and find Rowan leaning against the frame with his hands tucked in his pockets. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Hello.” He shoots me a small smile.

I nearly melt into the welcome mat when he leans over and places the softest kiss on my forehead. A buzz starts at my head and travels all the way down to my toes.

He pulls away, taking his addictive smell with him. His hand latches onto the handle of my luggage. “We better get going. We’ve got a flight to catch.”

“Flight?” Oh shit.

My life went full-blown Dreamland princess in less than an hour. But instead of a prince on a horse, I ended up with Rowan—the perfect kind of morally gray hero I love reading about.

“Here we are.” He squeezes my thigh with his massive hand.

“Are we stopping somewhere before our flight?” I look out the window, checking out the area that is definitely not the Orlando airport.

A hint of a smile crosses Rowan’s lips as if I said something cute. Someone opens a gate, and the driver steers the Ghost onto the runway.

I blink at the sleek black jet parked on the pavement like this is a casual Friday outing. “Are you kidding me?”

“I don’t joke.”

“Liar.”

I’m rewarded with another small smile.

I wave at the plane. “When you said we had a flight to catch, I thought you meant commercial.”

“God, no.”

“Oh yes. Because mini pretzels and babies crying is so aversive.”

He nods and gives my thigh another reassuring squeeze. “Good. You get it.”

The more time I spend around Rowan, the more I realize he’s not just out of my league—he’s out of my atmosphere. “We’re seriously going on a private plane?”

“Yes.”

I mutter a thank you under my breath as his driver opens the door. I’m stuck staring at the red carpet below me.

Rowan slides out of his seat and walks around the car. “Scared you might get addicted to this kind of lifestyle?”

“That’s the last thought on my mind.” I take a hesitant step toward the red carpet. I don’t think I’ve seen one anywhere but on the TV. My sneakers seem out of place as they press into the plush fabric and my paint-splattered jeans seem absolutely ridiculous.

He buttons his jacket as he looks over his shoulder. His brows pull down as he assesses me. “What’s wrong?”

I point back and forth between us. “You look like you stepped out of a Tom Ford catalog while I resemble someone who sifted through the BOGO bin at Goodwill.” I point to my washed-out sweatshirt. “This isn’t even a Michael Jordan sweatshirt because that wasn’t an option at the thrift store.”

The corner of his lip hitches. “I like your style.” His eyes drag down my body. His hands latch onto the back pockets of my jeans and tug me toward him.

“I like my style too, but it’s not exactly private jet material.”

“Says who?”

“Me!”

“How would you know if you’ve never been on a private jet before?”

I curse up to the sky. Dammit. Why does he always have a good point? “You can be so infuriating sometimes!”

Rowan kisses my forehead like I should be rewarded for being adorable while angry.

“We should get going because we don’t want to be late.” He removes his hands from my pockets before placing one on the small of my back. With a softness I’ve grown to appreciate, he directs us up the stairs and into the jet’s private cabin.

Whatever I thought private jets looked like inside, this was not it. The toe of my sneaker catches on the black carpet, and I scream as I lose my footing. Rowan’s arm shoots out and clutches onto my flailing arm, righting me before I fall face-first.

“Graceful as ever, Zahra.” He laughs under his breath.

He deposits my body in a massive seat that could fit three of me on a usual flight. I stroke the beige leather to confirm this is not a dream.

He drops into the seat across from me. “What’s that face for?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re uncomfortable.”

My cheeks burn. I should be thankful to be going on a trip instead of freaking out over the minor things. “No. I’m fine.”

He traces his bottom lip with his thumb. “I think you might be the only person I’ve met who is intimidated by my money and wants nothing to do with it.”

“Must be quite the contrast compared to the majority who are mainly intimidated by your personality.” My snappy comment is rewarded by a low laugh from Rowan. The sound warms my entire chest.

His eyes lighten as I shoot him a smile. “I like the way you make me feel.”

“And that is?”

“Like I’m a real person.”

I roll my eyes. “If these are your standards, there’s nowhere to go but up.”

He laughs again, and this time, I join him.

Okay, I won’t admit this to Rowan, but dating a billionaire has its perks.

Perk One: Taking a random flight to New York City because he feels like it would be a good date spot.

Perk Two: Visiting New York freaking City!

I’m bursting with excitement as the jet lands on the runway. The moment Rowan told me about our destination, I pestered him with many questions about the city and how often he comes here.

“I’ve never seen someone look this excited to be in New York before.”

“Are you kidding me? This is a dream come true!”

“Hold off on that statement until you get off the plane. I’m pretty sure the smell alone will convince you otherwise.”

“What kind of person hates New York?”

“The same kind who loves Chicago.”

“Take that back!” I lean over and smack his shoulder.

He grins. “Nope. Not until you come with me to Chicago and confirm what I already know.”

I’m pretty sure my heart might burst at Rowan’s idea. Planning ahead seems to add another layer to our casual but doesn’t feel casual relationship.

“People can’t take off and fly away whenever the feeling strikes.”

His head tilts. “Why not?”

“Because we have jobs and responsibilities.”

“Leave dealing with your boss to me.”

I shake my head, pretending to be disgusted, yet my heart accelerates in my chest.

Our conversation is cut off too soon by the pilot announcing it’s safe to take off our seat belts.

The flight attendant opens the cabin door and all I see is white.

“Snow! Real snow!” I take the steps two at a time and pick up a handful of glittering snow.

Rowan stops beside me. “We got lucky.”

“Lucky? How?”

His eyes stay glued to my smile. “There usually isn’t snow this early in the season but they just had a storm the other day.”

“If that’s not fate, I don’t know what is.” I throw the snow in the air and watch it all fall around me like powder.

I close my eyes and laugh, only to open them to find Rowan staring at me.

The staff makes quick work of our luggage, and before I can blink, Rowan has us settled into the back of a town car. He clutches onto my hand and draws idle circles with his thumb. Each rotation sends a jolt of energy shooting up my arm.

I stare out the window the entire time, taking in the bright lights and endless amounts of people. It reminds me of the Dreamland crowds, but more aggressive. Like people have places to go and people to see, so everyone needs to get the hell out of their way.

I absolutely love it.

We pull into the valet of some high-rise building covered in glass and steel.

“You live here?” I crane my neck back, taking in how the skyscraper touches a cloud. A real freaking cloud!

He shrugs. “Sometimes. It’s one of my homes.”

“One?!”

He shrugs.

“What’s it like to have more money than God?”

“Lonely.” His word carries enough heaviness to taint the air around us.

I’m tempted to wrap my arms around him to give him a squeeze. I can’t begin to imagine how isolating it is to be surrounded by so much wealth to the point that people stop treating him like a real person. After Rowan’s confession, I make a promise to myself to stop gawking at everything like it might disappear any second.

“Okay. I’m going to act cool from now on and pretend none of this phases me.”

“Don’t do that. I… It’s fun to see things from your perspective.”

Fun?! Who knew the man could experience such joy. I’m so caught up in that admission that it takes me a second to realize the rest of his statement.

He likes to see things from my perspective. My chest tightens, betraying me. Dammit. I should have listened to Claire. There’s no way things can stay casual between us without developing more intense feelings beyond liking one another. But why would he pursue me as Scott and Rowan if he wasn’t interested in taking things further?

I don’t think he’s using me for sex. There would be no reason behind carting me off to New York if that was the case.

Rowan’s hand finds the small of my back again as he leads us through an outrageous lobby with thousands of dangling gems suspended from the ceiling. He doesn’t need to press a single button on the elevators. Like he willed them himself, the doors slide open, revealing a shiny car of mirrors.

We step inside and the doors shut behind us.

His hand remains placed against my back. I’m tempted to step away and catch my breath, but he smells too damn good. The air thickens around us as he stares down at me.

“This is one hell of a date.”

“Please. We haven’t even gotten to that portion of the evening yet.”

“Just want to let you know you’re setting an unattainable bar for future men. I’ll never accept movie theater dates after this.”

Good, Zahra. Mention future men to throw him off.

“That’s because you’re more of a drive-in type of girl anyway.” He grabs my hand and tugs me closer. His head tips down and his eyes shut as he leans in. My eyes flutter closed as his lips press against mine. I hold on to him as his tongue traces my bottom lip, asking me nicely to open up. My head grows heavy as my body trembles under his attention.

The ping and the swooshing of the doors opening pulls us from our kiss. Rowan’s hand latches onto mine. He doesn’t let go as he walks us into a penthouse that could make an architect salivate all over the hardwood floors.

“I hope you know I might never leave this place.” I walk right up to the massive two-story window that shows off a panoramic view of the entire city.

One of his arms wraps around me, teasing the hem of my sweater while the other tilts my head to look over my shoulder. “You would give up Dreamland for the city?”

I let out a soft laugh. “No. I love Dreamland. I could spend the rest of my life there and never get bored.”

He looks at me with a weird expression I can’t place. “Really? Why?”

“My whole family lives there. I’d be crazy to give that up for some random city.”

“Hmm.” His hand strokes the sliver of exposed skin on my stomach.

“Are you happy giving up the city for Dreamland?” I shouldn’t probe but I’m too curious.

“I never thought I could feel happy at Dreamland again, but now I’m not too sure.”

I smile. “Really?”

“I might have met the one person who makes the place bearable.” His gaze remains solely focused on my face.

His answer makes my breath all shaky and my legs all wobbly. Hopeful little butterflies take flight in my stomach, proving just how far I’m falling.