A bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “Little late for that, don’t you think?”
He flinched. Good. I wanted him to flinch. I wanted him to feel even a fraction of what I had been feeling for weeks, months, years.
“I know.” His jaw tightened. “Which is why I think it’s best if we keep our distance for a while.”
“You didn’t have to pull me off that table last night.” I hated how small I sounded. “If you wanted distance so badly, you could have let me be.”
Owen’s eyes flashed with something dark, something possessive, and my breath caught in my throat. “Yes, I did.”
“Why?”
“Because if someone had put their hands on you…” He stopped, jaw working like he was physically biting back words. “...I would have killed them, and I really can’t afford a murder charge right now.”
The attempt at humor fell flat.
“So what’s the plan, then?” I asked, crossing my arms. The blanket had fallen to my waist, and I was suddenly very aware that I was still wearing last night’s outfit. I probably looked like a disaster.
“The rink.” He leaned back slightly, creating more distance between us. “You can have it in the mornings. I’ll come later, after you’re done.”
“How generous.”
“Harlow…”
“No, really.” I pushed up from the couch, ignoring the way the room spun and my head screamed in protest. “That’s a great plan. Very mature. We’ll just avoid each other until the end of time, and I’m sure that won’t be awkward at all when I visit Jax and Kaia or, you know, exist in the same social circle as you.”
“I’m trying to do the right thing here.”
“The right thing.” I laughed again, but there was no humor in it. “You keep saying that, but all I’m hearing is that you would rather lose me completely than take a chance on whatever this is.”
His face went carefully blank. “That’s not what I said.”
“It’s what you meant.”
We stared at each other, the air between us was thick with everything we just said and everything we weren’t saying. The pull toward him, even now, angry and hurt, was still so strong.
But I was tired now. Tired of wanting someone who couldn’t want me back. Tired of being the dirty little secret.
“No problem,” I said, all of the fight was gone. “You want distance? You got it.”
I grabbed my shoes near the end of the couch, shoving my feet into them without bothering to fix the crushed backs. Owen stood when I did, and for a second I thought he might reach for me, that he might say something to take it all back.
He didn’t.
“Harlow, wait…”
“I’ll see you around, Owen.” I grabbed my phone from the coffee table, not meeting his eyes. “Or, you know. I won’t. Since we’re keeping our distance.”
I walked to the front door, every step feeling like I was dragging dead weight behind me. My hand closed around the handle.
“Let me at least drive you home.”
“I’ll walk.”
“Har…”
“Goodbye, Owen.”
I pulled the door open and stepped through it, closing it firmly behind me without looking back. The hallway was quiet and empty. I stood there for a moment, trying to remember how to breathe.
