Chapter Fifteen: Moonlight and Quiet Promises
For a long moment after I said it, nothing else seemed to happen. The world didn't end. The ground didn't open up. He just stood there, looking at me like I'd handed him a live bird—something beautiful and fragile he was afraid to crush.
Then he'd simply said, "My car's here."
He didn't say where we were going. I didn't ask. I just followed him to the familiar dark car and got in. The leather seat was cool against my skin. He started the engine, and the soft rumble was the only sound as we pulled away from the curb.
We drove without a destination. The frantic, jittery feeling in my chest began to calm, replaced by a deep, quiet exhaustion. I'd used up all my bravery. Now I just felt… still. I watched the city slide by outside the window—bright shops giving way to quiet neighborhoods, then to long, dark roads that followed the curve of the river.
The moon was out, a silver coin in the black sky. It painted everything in soft, ghostly light. It lit up the dashboard, the lines of Rowan's hands on the steering wheel, the sharp angle of his jaw. In this light, he didn't look like the intimidating, closed-off man everyone saw. He just looked like a man. A tired one. One who was carrying something heavy all by himself.
We didn't talk. But for the first time, the silence between us didn't feel empty or awkward. It felt full. Like we were both holding the same truth in the space between the seats, letting it breathe.
"You okay?" he asked, his voice cutting gently through the quiet.
I realized I'd been holding my breath. I let it out slowly. "Yeah," I whispered. "I feel… peaceful, actually."
He glanced over at me. Just a quick look, but I saw it—a faint, real smile touching his eyes before he looked back at the road. "Good," he said. "I'm glad."
A few minutes later, he pulled the car onto a wide gravel overlook by the river. He turned off the engine. The sudden quiet was immense. All I could hear was the soft lap of water against the bank and the distant hum of the city we'd left behind.
The moon laid a shimmering path across the dark water, like a road made of light leading nowhere.
"It's beautiful," I said, my voice barely more than a breath.
"Yes," he agreed.
But when I turned to look at him, he wasn't looking at the river. He was looking at me.
A warm flush crept up my neck. I leaned my head back against the seat, suddenly feeling the weight of the whole day, the whole week, the whole emotional whirlwind. My body felt heavy in the best way, like I'd just put down a burden I'd been carrying for years.
"You know," I said, the words coming out sleepy and soft, "this is kind of my first… everything."
He turned his head slightly. "Everything?"
"First real date. First time telling someone how I really feel." I smiled to myself, looking out at the moonlit water. "First time feeling like maybe… I'm not just background noise in someone's life. I'm nineteen, and I feel like my life only just started."
I saw his hands tighten on the steering wheel. His knuckles stood out white for a second before he relaxed them.
"You shouldn't have had to wait that long," he said, and his voice was thick with something that sounded like regret.
I shrugged, the movement small in the dark car. "I don't mind. Maybe I was just… waiting for it to be real. Waiting for the right person to be real with."
"And am I?" he asked. The question was so quiet, so raw, it felt like he was handing me a piece of his own soul. "The right person?"
I didn't have to think. "Yes."
The word hung there in the warm, still air of the car. Simple. Final.
Rowan let out a long, slow breath, like he'd been holding it for miles. He reached over, his movement hesitant. His fingers brushed a stray piece of hair away from my cheek, tucking it gently behind my ear. His touch was so careful, it made my heart ache.
"You trust too easily," he murmured, his thumb tracing a fleeting line down my jaw.
"Only with you," I whispered back.
His hand stilled. For a second, he just looked at me, his eyes dark and endless in the moonlight, full of a conflict I couldn't begin to understand.
A wave of deep tiredness washed over me then. The adrenaline was gone, leaving me soft and drowsy. My eyelids felt heavy. I tried to fight it, to stay in this perfect, quiet moment, but my body was betraying me.
"You can sleep," he said, his voice a low rumble. "I'll take you back whenever you're ready."
"I don't want to," I mumbled, already half-lost. "I don't want to miss this."
I saw his lips curve into that rare, real smile again. "You won't miss it."
He started the car, and the gentle motion was the final push. As he pulled back onto the road, the world outside became a blur of dark shapes and silver light. The hum of the engine was a lullaby. Without even meaning to, without thinking about it, I leaned sideways.
My head found his shoulder.
I felt his whole body go tense for a heartbeat. I was about to jerk away, embarrassed, when I felt him relax. He didn't pull away. Instead, he shifted just a little, adjusting his arm so I could rest more comfortably against him. It was the smallest gesture, but it meant everything.
Safe. I felt utterly safe.
With a soft sigh, I let sleep take me. The last thing I was aware of was his hand, leaving the steering wheel for a moment to settle over mine where it lay in my lap. His fingers wrapped around my own, warm and solid.
A quiet promise in the dark.
●[HIS Pov]
I drove the rest of the way home like I was carrying something made of glass.
She was asleep against me, her breathing deep and even, her hair soft against my jacket. Every few minutes, I'd glance down, just to make sure she was still there, still peaceful. The moonlight played over her face, smoothing out the worried look she sometimes wore, making her seem younger than her nineteen years.
Too young, a voice in my head warned. For me. For my life.
I knew I should wake her. I should take her straight back to her dorm, walk her to the door, and end this before it went any further. It was the right thing to do. The only thing to do.
But I didn't.
I let her sleep. I drove slower, taking the longer, smoother route, avoiding potholes and sharp turns. I let myself have these stolen minutes, with her weight warm against my side and her trust wrapping around me like a blanket I didn't deserve.
This was the dangerous part, I realized. Not the threats from rivals, not the tricky business deals. This. This quiet. This softness. This was how a man like me got ruined—or worse, how I ruined someone else.
I pulled up to her dorm and put the car in park. The building was dark except for a few lonely lights in windows. I didn't cut the engine, letting the heat run so she wouldn't get cold.
I didn't wake her.
I just sat there in the driver's seat, one arm still supporting her, and watched the night. The moon was slipping behind a bank of clouds, taking its silver light with it. This small, perfect pocket of peace was ending, and the real world was waiting in the shadows.
I knew what came next. Complications. Danger. Hard choices. The world I lived in didn't allow for moonlight drives and sleeping girls.
Gently, so gently she didn't even stir, I leaned down and pressed my lips to the top of her head. It wasn't really a kiss. It was more like a wish. A silent apology for storms to come.
"Sleep, little star," I whispered into her hair, my voice barely a sound. "I'll carry the darkness for both of us."
She sighed in her sleep, nuzzling slightly closer.
I closed my eyes for a second, committing the feeling to memory. Then, with more strength than it took to face any enemy, I carefully shifted, whispering her name until her eyelids fluttered open.
"We're home," I said softly.
She blinked, confused and soft with sleep, and the world, for a little while longer, held its breath.