“Oh, thank God.” I let my head fall back against the headrest, my eyes closing involuntarily. The exhaustion was hitting me harder now, the adrenaline of the situation fading and leaving nothing but bone-deep weariness in its wake. “Thank you.”
Owen appeared at my window, leaning down to look at me. This close, I could see the tired lines around his eyes, the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw. He looked exhausted, too.
“Go straight home,” he said. “Let it run for at least twenty minutes so the alternator can charge the battery, and maybe don’t leave your phone plugged in for six hours next time.”
“Noted.” I gripped the steering wheel, staring straight ahead because looking at him was dangerous. “Owen, I... thank you. Really. And I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
For last week. For yelling at you. For wanting things I can’t have. For making everything complicated.
“For making you drive over here,” I said. “I know we’re supposed to be... keeping our distance.”
Something shifted in his expression. “Har.”
The nickname made my chest ache.
“You can always call me.” His voice was low, serious. “If you need help. Always. I don’t care how much distance we’re supposed to be keeping. If something’s wrong, you call me. Okay?”
I finally looked at him and found his blue eyes steady on mine. No smirk. No deflection. Just raw sincerity.
“Okay,” I whispered.
He nodded once, stepped back, and the moment broke. “Get home safe.”
“You too.” I put the car in reverse, hesitated. “And Owen?”
He paused halfway to his car, turning to look at me over his shoulder.
“Don’t stay at the rink all night. You look like you need sleep.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Since when do you worry about my sleep schedule?”
“Since never. I don’t want you crashing into a tree on the way home and making me feel guilty about it.”
“Your concern is touching.”
“It’s purely selfish.”
“Clearly.”
We stared at each other across the dark parking lot. So much left unsaid. So much we both knew we couldn’t say.
I broke first, backing out of my parking spot with a wave I hoped looked casual. In my rearview mirror, he climbed into his car, and his headlights flicked on. He waited until I pulled out of the lot before following.
Making sure I got home safe.
Making sure I was okay.
Even after everything.
The drive home was quiet except for the hum of my newly resurrected engine. I kept my eyes on the road and tried very hard not to think about the way he saidalways.
I failed, obviously.
But at least I made it home.
CHAPTER 21
