“I’m not going to ask Jax’s permission, Har.”
“You’re not?”
“No.” He shook his head, something fierce and certain settling into his expression. “I’m going to tell him. Let him know what’s happening between us, and I’m going to promise him that I’m not going to hurt you.”
My heart stuttered. “You’re going to promise him that?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure about that?” The words slipped out before I could stop them, sharper than intended, carrying the weight of every doubt I’d been harboring.
Owen’s expression softened. He lifted our joined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles that was so gentle it made my chest ache.
“I’m sure,” he said quietly. “I know my track record isn’t great. I know I’ve fucked things up before. But this is different, Harlow. You’re different.”
“Different how?”
“Different because…” He paused, his eyes holding mine, blue and steady and unflinching. “You’re not just some girl. You’re... you’re everything. You’re my everything.” He leaned forward over the table. “I’ve never wanted anything as bad as I want you.”
I blinked rapidly, trying to clear the sudden burning behind my eyes. “That was very smooth.”
His free hand came up to cup my cheek, thumb brushing away a tear I hadn’t realized had escaped.
“Jax isn’t going to make me choose,” he said. “And even if he tried, it wouldn’t matter. I’d fight for you. I’d fight for us. Do you understand that?”
I nodded.
“Good.” He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. “Now, can we please order some of this incredible food you’ve been hyping up? I’m starving.”
I laughed, the sound watery but real, and flagged down our server.
CHAPTER 30
OWEN
The gym doorsslammed shut behind me. My muscles ached, my shirt was damp with sweat, and all I could think about was getting home.
Home to Harlow.
The thought made me smile as I crossed the parking lot, my gym bag slung over one shoulder. I needed a shower. Food. Maybe eight hours of sleep if I was lucky. Between morning practice, back-to-back classes, and then hitting the gym for an extra session, I was running on fumes.
My car beeped as I unlocked it, tossing my bag in the back. I was halfway into the driver’s seat when my phone rang, the sound cutting through the quiet of the parking lot.
I glanced at the screen.
Camryn.
I froze, my hand hovering over the accept button. We hadn’t talked much since the wedding, a few polite texts here and there, the occasional like on social media, but nothing substantial. Nothing that felt like the friendship we used to have before everything got so fucked up.
I almost let it go to voicemail.
But then I remembered her at the beach house, the way she’d forgiven me even when she had every right not to. The way she’d told me we could still be friends if we tried.
I hit accept.
“Hey, Cam.”
“I was worried you wouldn’t answer.”
