The words slipped from my lips—undeniable, unstoppable. I didn’t even falter or stutter. They rushed out like they’d been waiting for years.
Owen kissed me—hard, desperate, like he had to feel the words, taste them, believe them with every inch of his body. And God, I meant them. I meant them so much it hurt. His hands chafed up my back, my arms wound around his neck, and we stood there, tangled together, pouring everything we said and everything we couldn’t say into each other.
“I love you,” he rasped against my lips. Then, quieter, more tentative—“I don’t think it’ll take long. Me being there. But if it does ...”
I froze.
He didn’t finish the sentence.
Part of me wanted to blurt outI’ll come with you, I’d follow you anywhere.God, I wanted to fold myself into that hope like it could be enough. But this wasn’t about what I wanted in the moment. And it wasn’t like I could abandon my life just like that—or that he was asking me to. This was bigger than us.
This was his future, his career, his shot—and he needed to be sure about it forhimself.And I needed to believe he still wanted meafterthat—after he knew who he was on the other side of it.
“However long it takes,” I whispered, worried I’d stutter if I spoke up. “You have to see it through.”
Owen held me tighter, his gaze searching mine.
“This is your moment, Owen. You’ve worked so hard for it. You deserve to chase it with your whole heart, find out what’s next—foryou. And I’ll be right here, cheering you on. Every step.”
His jaw tensed, his gaze dropped before lifting to meet mine again. With a slow nod, he whispered, “I know.”
But in those blue eyes, I saw the ache, the hesitation, the silent question he wasn’t asking out loud.What if going means losing you?
I reached up and kissed him, slow and sure, infusing every unspoken promise into the touch of my lips.
32
Owen
I NEVER IMAGINED THEfirst time I’d tell Rio I loved her would happen like that—frayed at the edges, the words tangled in everything that came right before and everything we hadn’t figured out yet. I never fully believed she’d say it back, either. And definitely not like that.
But she did.
We held each other until it all blurred and each touch became more demanding, charged, searing. We crashed on the bed together, mouths searching, hands grasping, stripped raw, nothing left between us.
I didn’t even care if Walter knew what kept us upstairs so long.
By the time we made it downstairs to get something to drink, his door was shut.
It was better that way. I didn’t want another fight before I left, though I hoped I’d get a quiet moment to tell him I loved him before I left.
My flight was booked for three days later. The next day, Simon texted me for the first time since mytesting-the-waters message from a few days ago—a simple“We should talk again. Let me know.”
His reply came that afternoon.“Can we meet for a pint tonight?”
“Anytime. Was hoping you’d ask,”I wrote back.
Rio, perched on the sofa next to me, glanced at my screen. “Will you survive this?”
“I have to,” I said, tossing my phone onto the table. “For you.”
She raised an unimpressed brow.
“Okay, okay. For the greater good.”
She rolled her eyes but smiled. “As long as you don’t start an argument in the middle of the pub.”
“I make no promises.” I ran the back of my hand along her cheek and pressed a kiss to her forehead. I inhaled, then pulled her closer, letting her head rest sideways on my shoulder. My fingers threaded into her hair, grazing the soft skin of her cheek. I bent my head and kissed her temple.
