"Autumn…"
"Don't." I point a stiff finger at his chest. "Don't send any sympathy my way. I want nothing from you."
He sighs and backs up. "For the record," he says, walking backwards and then stopping. "This reunion went just about how I expected it to go."
"Good job accurately predicting the future. Do you know what I'm going to say next?"
Owen stares at me, waiting.
"I'll take it from here. Monday night dinners are my responsibility. We'll see you at her appointments." There is clearly too much history for Owen Miller and I to ever be in the same room with each other again.
His face falls. "I want to check on her after her chemo days."
I cross my arms. "No thanks. I've got that covered too."
Owen’s face is a mask of anger as he spins on his heels and walks to his car, pausing when he reaches it. He glances back at me. "Stubborn woman."
"Strength of conviction!" I shout and give him my back.
I don't need to watch him drive away again. This time, he can stare at me as I disappear.
Chapter 4
Owen
Fuck.
That girl drives me crazy.Woman, I mentally correct myself. She's a woman now. And what a woman she has grown into. Feisty as hell, stubborn, more than ready to go toe-to-toe with me. She wasn't always that way. She was never a pushover, but she wasn't always so easy to incite. Is it the person she has turned into or is it me? Does seeing me bring this out in her?
Whichever it is, it’s maddening. I can't figure out if I want to take cover and hide until she decides to leave again, or press my lips to that pretty mouth of hers and shut her up.
If I did the latter, she'd probably knee me in the balls.
The hate rolled off her in waves just now. I could feel it, see it, taste it. The worst part is that I don't blame her. Ideserveit.
I had a chance to patch things up, but when she shut down my conversation, I lashed out and went right for her wounds. I was a grade-A asshole. Autumn brought that out of me.
My grip tightens on the steering wheel as I think of her. Mounds of dark hair curling down to the center of her back. She wore it shorter before, but I like it this way. She wasn't dressed in anything special, just baggy sweatpants before changing into tight jeans, but still as gorgeous as the day I met her. Her arms were slender, but her thighs were muscled, probably from all the walking around in the city. She has hips now too, graceful curves she didn't have before. She looked tired, and not just remnants from her redeye. Probably overworked, like me. Different careers, same pressure.
Funny how we've both let our work do that to us. It makes me wonder what else we have in common. Is she in a relationship? Has she been serious with someone? I’d glanced at her left hand and didn’t see a ring. My stomach roils at the idea.
It's not fair. I've dated. Not that I've been serious. The second the girl starts talking about a future, I'm done. It's been hell trying to convince my eighteen-year-old self that Autumn isn't my forever. It's a sad fact that I'm still trying to convince him. Her being back isn't helping the situation either.
I need to blow off some steam, so I reach for my phone and dial Ace.
"What's good, buddy?" he answers.
"You busy?"
"Uh…" He pauses. "Kind of. What's up?"
"Don't worry about it, man." He’s probably with a girl. My best friend is always with a girl.
He clears his throat. "Hang on."
The connection falls silent. I'm pretty sure he put me on mute. After a minute, his voice comes through.
"I'm available now."
