“I wouldn’t say never.”
The words were out before I could stop them. Her eyes snapped back to mine, wide and searching.
Shit. Shit. What was I doing?
“But do not tell Jax,” I added quickly, like that would somehow make this better.
She almost smiled. Almost. “Obviously, I would have rather it happened while you were single and sober. Maybe even before this whole Cam, you, and Trystan mess.”
I stepped closer without meaning to, drawn into her orbit like gravity. Our bodies were nearly touching now, close enough to count the faint freckles across her nose. Her gaze lifted to meet mine.
“I regret when it happened,” I said. “But you want to know the truth?”
Her eyes dropped, lingering on my lips for half a second before darting back up. “What?”
“I regret that I can’t remember…” I dropped my mouth toward hers, letting the heat of my breath fan across her lips, watching her eyes flutter half-closed… “what you taste like.”
Voices echoed around the corner, shattering the moment like glass.
I took a giant step back, shoving my hands in my pockets like they might betray me otherwise. My gaze shifted in the direction of the noise, my heart hammering against my ribs.
What the fuck was I doing?
This was Harlow. Jax’s sister. The girl I’d already hurt once, who was still angry with me, who deserved so much better than whatever half-assed, impulsive thing I was about to drag her into.
A group of my teammates rounded the corner: Stanley, Ryder, Brandon, and Logan, their gear bags slung over their shoulders, still high on that post-workout energy.
“Owen,” Stanley shouted as they strolled up to us. His gaze flickered to Harlow, interest sparking in his eyes, making my jaw clench. “What’s up, man?”
“Nothing,” I said, way too defensive. “What are you guys still doing here?”
“We were working out after practice.” Ryder pulled his black backpack up higher on his shoulder. “We’re heading to Greg’s now for a few drinks. You want to come?”
“Uh.” I nodded, grasping for the lifeline. “Yeah.” I didn’t really want to go. What I wanted was to finish what I’d started, to drag Harlow somewhere private and find out exactly what she tasted like, but that was precisely why I needed to leave. Distance. Boundaries. All the things I was spectacularly bad at.
“Hey, Harlow.” Brandon stepped forward, flashing her an all-white smile, and my fists clenched at my sides. “Do you want to come too?”
Harlow smiled at him in a way she hadn’t looked at me in weeks.
“Actually,” I said, cutting in before she could answer, “Harlow was heading home.”
Her head snapped toward me, those blue eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“I heard you.” She crossed her arms. “I’m trying to figure out when exactly I gave you permission to speak for me.”
The guys exchanged looks, sensing the tension crackling between us.
“Come on, Harlow,” I said, stepping closer, lowering my voice. “You don’t want to hang out with these idiots.”
“Oh, but I do.” Her smile turned sharp. “They seem nice. Friendly. The kind of guys who actually want me around, instead of only acknowledging my existence when it’s convenient for them.”
The barb landed exactly where she’d aimed it.
Clenching my teeth, I flashed her a warning look. “That’s not…”
“I’ll meet you guys there.” She turned away from me and smiled at him.
