CHAPTER 14
HARLOW
Who the helldid he think he was?
The question had been rattling around my skull like a pinball ever since I peeled out of the parking lot, knuckles white on the steering wheel, jaw clenched.
He didn’t want me, but he didn’t want anyone else to have me either. Letting out a loud, frustrated growl, I slapped my steering wheel. He was so freaking frustrating.
I hadn’t talked to Owen since the night I walked away, leaving him on the dance floor. He had made it very clear that I was only an option when he was drunk and only for one night. He wanted me to be his secret, and I wasn’t interested in that type of relationship.
It had been a month, and I was still angry. I knew he was sorry, but I didn’t care. I wanted to move on, and I thought I had a real chance to do that this year since Jax was gone and Owen didn’t want me. I was wrong.
I swerved into Greg’s parking lot and cut the engine, staring at the neon Budweiser sign flashing in the window. The bar was a dive, but it was cheap, close to campus, and most importantly, it was where Owen’s teammates were.
The truth was I wasn’t really interested in any of Owen’s teammates, but when he told them I was headed home like a possessive boy… No, like a possessive brot… That wasn’t right either. Owen lost thelike a brothertitle when I spent the night in his bed.
He was acting as if he had some claim to me and what I did. He didn’t, and I was going to walk in there with my head held high and prove to him that he didn’t control me. That I was perfectly capable of having a good time without his permission.
The anger carried me across the parking lot and into the bar.
I scanned the room.
Owen wasn’t there yet. Maybe he wouldn’t show up.
I spotted his teammates clustered around a high-top near the dartboard, laughing about something, beers already sweating rings onto the table. I squared my shoulders, smoothed down my hair, and walked over.
“Hey, guys.”
Four heads turned in my direction.
“Oh.” Stanley’s eyebrows lifted slightly, as if he were surprised I actually showed up. “What’s up, Harlow?”
He looked away before the words finished leaving his mouth, suddenly very interested in the label on his beer bottle. Brandon and Ryder mumbled something under their breath that might have been a greeting, but their gazes slid past me like I wasn’t even there. Logan at least attempted a smile, but it was tight and uncomfortable, lasting only half a second before he returned to what he was doing before I arrived. It was the complete opposite of the vibes he was giving me at the rink.
The silence stretched.
I stood there, arms crossed, waiting for someone, anyone, to acknowledge my existence.
Nothing.
Stanley cleared his throat. “So anyway,” he said, turning back to the group, dismissing me, “like I was saying about Coach’s new drill...”
The conversation resumed without me. I might as well have been invisible. Except this was worse than being invisible. I was being ignored.
My stomach sank.
This was Owen’s fault. Whatever he’d said to them after I left, whatever threats he’d made, they’d taken it to heart. I wasn’t fair game anymore.
Anger twisted in my gut, but I wasn’t ready to walk away.
I grabbed an empty stool at the end of the bar and ordered a Coke because getting carded right now would be the final humiliation.
Minutes crawled by.
The door swung open, letting in a gust of cold air and the unmistakable sound of Owen’s voice.
He was mid-sentence, talking to someone behind him, but his gaze swept the bar, looking for me, I realized when our eyes met.
