“What are you thinking?” I asked, gently grasping his arm.
Owen continued nodding while staring down, like he was having a conversation with himself, sorting things out in his head before he opened his mouth.
“This is feelingwaytoo familiar,” he began. He pulled away from me to refocus on the coffee machine.
An unexpected wave of seasickness rolled through me. “Owen, no. Oh my god, it’s not like that.”
I just wanted him to look at me, so he could see how desperate I was to convince him that he was wrong.
He flipped handles on the machine with increasing ferocity.
“Yeah, I’ve heard that line before.”
My mouth went dry, because from his perspective, it probably did mirror what he’d been through before. But this was different.Iwas different. All the muse bullshit didn’t matter, because I was falling for someone real, and wonderful, and even more inspirational than some stranger I’d decided to fixate on.
“Owen, come on. Let’s talk. Please.”
He whirled to me, his eyes flashing and his expression grim. He started to say something right as the basement door crashed open.
“Good morning, party people,” Claudia sang as she walked into the kitchen. “Who wants brunch?”
She froze when she saw our expressions, and Wes collided into her from behind.
“What’s up?” Wes asked, glancing between us. “Is everything okay?”
There was no way I wanted to get into it with them, or worse, fake our way through a meal while Owen glowered at me.
“Yeah, we were just... figuring some stuff out,” I said, flicking my eyes to a very barista-minded Owen.
“Morning, folks. Coffee?” he asked without looking over at them.
“We, uh, should probably get going,” I said nervously, because the last thing I wanted to do was leave the conversation without resolution. “We need to get your stuff from my place and see how bad the fire damage is.”
“Right,” Claudia said slowly. She was intuitive. She knew something was up. “Of course. We’ll strip the bed.”
“Hey, Marti was a phenomenal bedmate,” Wes added, oblivious.
“Yeah, she’s a good girl,” Owen agreed. “Very loyal.”
He was already checked out, but he’d managed to get a little dig in at me.
Wes and Claudia retreated to the basement, and I took advantage of being alone to get right in Owen’s face.
“We’ll talk more once they leave, okay? Please.” I was practically begging him. “Let’s figure this out. Just trust me.”
I reached out to try to take his hand, but he slipped away under the pretense of getting mugs.
“Same damn script.” He chuckled mirthlessly as he opened cabinet after cabinet, like he was a guest and not the owner of the home. “For fuck’s sake, why didn’t I listen to my gut?”
I tried to come up with something convincing enough to at least get him to listen to me, but Marti barked and scratched at the back door, and Wes came up clutching a ball of sheets and towels.
The morning was moving on, but I was stuck staring at the mess I’d accidentally made. I needed to fake that everything was normal so I didn’t hijack what was left of Wes and Claudia’s visit.
Our apartment was habitable but slightly smoky, which felt fitting given my state of mind. Meredith was spending Sunday with Colton, and before everything went to shit, I’d planned to camp out at our kitchen table and get back to writing.
There was no way I could focus on HEA vibes now, deadline or not.
I hated saying goodbye to Wes and Claudia. There wasn’t enough time to explain everything that had blown up in the past twelve hours, so I faked happiness until I dropped them off at Penn. Claudia had given me an extra-long hug, and when she pulled away, she’d murmured, “I’m here if you need me.”
