Rowen and Rick laughed throughout our evening meal as I ate in silence, merely listening to their conversation. While dinner was being prepared, I had formed a plan to play with Rowen, mess with him a little until he answered my questions. Every. Last. One of them. Now and then I'd stared at Rowen until he noticed and then look away, purposely pretending not to have been watching him. He seemed confused by my actions, but didn't say anything about it in front of Rick. He continued his conversation, glancing at me every few minutes. He was trying to catch my eye.

Finally, he seemed tired of the back and forth nature of my toying and turned to me fully. "What do you think?" he asked.

Having been listening closely to their conversation, I was able to answer his question with ease. "I think that it's more beneficial for someone to live in a populated area so they can meet people," I said. I looked at Rick. "But there's nothing wrong with choosing a quiet space where you can be alone once you find someone to settle down with."

I saw the corner of Rowen's mouth twitch. "I suppose. But smaller populations have less excitement," he objected. "Some people like to have a bit of drama."

I shrugged, still feigning simplicity. "There can be quite a bit of excitement in smaller groups. If you think about it, the minimum needed for excitement is two people in a room."

My words fell like bricks on the table. Rowen didn't look at me, but I could see the uncomfortable expression on his face as he stared down at his bowl of soup. He gave no response. Rick, on the other hand, had to bite back a grin to keep from laughing out loud. He asked, "What's on your mind, Kevin? You seem tense."

"I'm not tense. If anyone looks tense," I glanced at Rowen and then back to Rick, returning his grin, "...it's Rowen."

Finally, Rowen broke. He put his spoon down hard and crossed his arms. "Alright. What do you guys have planned? It's obvious something's up," he stated.

Deciding there was no use in holding back, I stood up; my chair screeched across the floor behind me. "Something's definitely up. Are you feeling alright?" I asked. Before Rowen could ask what I was planning, I put my hand to his forehead. There was a lapse in sound aside from the cabin's air-conditioned as Rowen stared at me, one hand on the table, the other in mid-air as if he had intended to stop me. But I wasn't done yet, far from it. Once I was sure he was stunned speechless, I smile. "You're warmer than I expected," I told him, barely loud enough for the table to hear. He opened his mouth to answer, but I was already pulling away. "Not warm enough for a fever, though. You're probably just tired from having to take care of me. Serves you right for treating me like an invalid."

I sat back down and turned to Rick, completely ignoring the dumbfounded look of confusion of Rowen's face. "So, how long have you lived here?" I asked.

Catching onto my act, Rick smiled at me, also ignoring Rowen's bewilderment. We both knew I was no more interested in his personal life than I was in a donkey's ass, but for the sake of my resolve, he played along. "Ever since I was discharged from the military. After all the shooting and explosions, I wanted a quiet place to spend my days," he explained.

"Makes sense, I suppose. I can't wait to move out," I said, picturing the day I could finally leave home as an adult. "Maybe I'll move up here too. It's really pretty. But I would miss hanging out with my friend, Zane, so I might not live all the way up here like you do," I said.

Rowen had since fallen silent, but I could feel his annoyance seeping into the atmosphere like a miasma. He seemed to be trying not to speak, pushing his food around in his bowl with a heavy frown. I wondered how long he would sulk before he tried to join in our conversation, but he never did and dinner soon ended. I helped clean up the dishes and showed Rick to the door. Rowen stayed in the kitchen, silently washing our bowls.

"You're a good babysitter," I said as I opened the door. I raised my voice a little louder. "Maybe if Rowen has to go somewhere, you can come to keep me company again."

There was the definite sound of someone kicking the coffee table in the living room and swearing profusely. Rick snickered. He put a hand on my shoulder. "You be careful. Rowen isn't one to be dragged around," he warned me. He paused before adding in a whisper, "But if he cracks, juice him for all he's worth. Catch it on camera if you can; I've never seen him break under pressure before."

I brushed him off with a grin and stepped back into the house. "I'm not videoing an interrogation," I said.

"Interrogation? Kinky." Rick winked suggestively.

I pushed him with a scoff. "Get your ass out of here!" I said.

He laughed. "Alright, alright. See ya!"

He waved and started into the trees. I shook my head with a contented sigh. At least I knew someone had my back. If anything happened, I knew I could turn to Rick.

As I made my way back into the living room, I spotted Rowen sitting on the couch, arms crossed in front of his chest. He was pouting like a child. I walked over to plop down beside him, pulling my sleeve up to check my arm's slowly healing scratch. He didn't even acknowledge my presence. I waited a few minutes more before I nudged his foot.

"What's on your mind?" I asked.

He shrugged, the distant look of annoyance remaining in his eyes.

I pulled my legs up onto the couch to sit cross-legged. "Rick and I were thinking about going to town this weekend. He said he would give me a tour of the less known spots," I said; it was a lie. Rick and I had discussed no such outing, but Rowen didn't need to know that. I waited for this sink in before I continued. "Like a date, you know?"

That was the spot. Rowen's false disinterest was instantly replaced by great irritation. He turned his head to look at me, but I stood up and walked to the kitchen, getting myself some water. "I feel bad about getting so upset with him the first time we met. Rick is a pretty good guy when he wants to be," I said.

Rowen pursed his lips and his crossed arms tightened. "When he wants to be," he repeated.

"I'm surprised he doesn't have a girlfriend," I went on, sipping my water. "Maybe he's into guys."

"He's not," Rowen answered sharply.

I shrugged again and went to sit on the arm of the couch opposite Rowen. I could tell I was more than skin deep. While I tried to decide what to pick at next, Rowen finally spoke up of his own accord. "Rick is a player. He doesn't like commitments," he said.

"I could say the same about you," I countered.

Rowen actually flinched. I took it my chance had come. With a deep breath, I stood up and walked over to sit down next to Rowen, close enough that my arm touched his. "You two are similar in many ways. That's probably why you guys are such good friends." I let a silence that passed between us. "Maybe I can be good friends with him too."

I got up and was walking away when Rowen suddenly grabbed my arm, yanking me backward forcefully. I landed on my back across the couch. As I was trying to sit up, Rowen pinned my wrists to the cushions. He hovered over me with a dark stare. "Don't talk to Rick," he said.

All my courage was stripped away in an instant. Whatever cocky motivation I may have had, it was gone, and I couldn't help stuttering over my attempted response. "W-why?"

"He'll only cause you trouble," Rowen said.

Though I was quaking in my boots, I hated that excuse, and I hated it even more coming from Rowen. "Like you don't already do that. Are you going to tell me not to talk to you either?" I asked. I started to pull my hands away, but he tightened his grip; it was bruising. "Let go of me," I said.

Looking at him so close up, it was obvious he seemed torn between dropping the subject or making his point. It ticked me off that he couldn't just speak to me like I was an adult.

"Is there something you want to say to me?" I asked. When he blinked at me, surprised, I settled back. "Go ahead."

The invitation was obviously unexpected and Rowen tensed. He looked more uncomfortable than I had expected. "Do you know what you're asking for?" His hands relaxed and he shifted them down to hold my forearms. "I don't think you want to play games with me," he warned.

He was right; I didn't and I was beginning to regret my choices. However, notoriously stubborn, I wouldn't back out now. Pressing my lips into a thin line, I maintained eye-contact. Taking that as his go-ahead, Rowen lean towards me. I felt his hands roam lower, down to my waist, as his breath breezed hot over my neck. A vague feeling of familiar unease passed over me and I wished more and more that I hadn't brought up this subject. Then his finger hooked into a belt loop on my jeans and my hands instinctively went to his shoulders. Rowen stopped. 

I hadn't realized I had closed my eyes until I felt Rowen retreat and had to open them to look up at him. He looked... defeated. "I didn't think so," he said.

*******

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