OWEN
I followed at a distance,keeping her taillights in sight without being obvious about it. Or at least, I hoped I wasn’t being obvious.
The image of her standing in that empty parking lot, arms wrapped around herself with dark circles under her eyes, had lodged itself somewhere in my chest and refused to budge.
She turned onto her street, and I slowed, watching until her car pulled into the driveway and the garage door rumbled open, swallowing her inside.
I sped up as I passed her road.
She was safe.
I should have felt relief, but I didn’t; I felt empty. It was such a weird feeling to miss something you knew you could never have, especially when that something is someone.
My apartment was dark when I finally stumbled through the door, kicking off my shoes, and I didn’t bother turning on any lights. The couch caught me, leather creaking as I collapsed onto the cushions.
I needed a shower. The responsible adult thing to do would be to get up, shower, maybe eat something that wasn’t protein powder, and get some actual sleep before tomorrow’s practice.
I lay there, staring at the ceiling I couldn’t see, thinking about her.
Harlow. Standing against her car with her arms crossed. The way she looked at me when I pulled up, guarded, exhausted, vulnerable in a way she probably hated. The way her voice cracked when she apologized for calling me.
Like she thought she was a burden.
You can always call me. Always.
I meant it. Every word, and that was the problem, wasn’t it? I kept drawing lines and then immediately stepping over them. Keep your distance, Owen. Stay away, Owen. Don’t text her, don’t think about her.
My phone was heavy in my pocket. I pulled it out and opened our text thread.
The cursor blinked at me.
You make it home okay?
I stared at the words and then deleted them.
Just wanted to make sure you got home safe.
Too formal. Deleted.
Hey, you good?
Too casual.
I dropped the phone on my chest and pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes until I saw stars.
I was the one who asked for space, the one who sat across from her on my coffee table and told her we needed to stay away from each other. I was the one who kept making all these rules, drawing all these boundaries, convincing myself it was the right thing to do.
The problem was, I didn’t want space.
I wanted to close every inch of distance between us and be the person she called when things went wrong, not because there was no one else, but because she wanted it to be me.
And if it wasn’t for Jax...
I groaned, rolling onto my side and burying my face in a throw pillow.
Jax. The guy who was always in my corner through every fight, every failure, every bad decision I ever made. The guy who trusted me with everything, his secrets, his house, his family.
His sister.
