I pull an Owen and nod without uttering a sound. There it is. The real story.
“Her roof was fucked up. I wasn’t there to take care of her. And that’s… my job?” He turns his hands over on the table so that his palms face up. “I know that hockey is my job, but Mom. She. I…” He stares down at his empty hands with glassy, unfocused eyes. “When something goes wrong, it’s my job to stop it.”
Without thinking, I reach out to touch his exposed wrist. I don’t think about it. I just do it. I don’t know what to say, but he needs the words right now, and I can offer him that connection.
Owen turns his head,finallymeeting my eyes. Like he felt it more than he expected to. His expression is as stoic as ever, but his eyes are bright with an emotion he can’t quite tamp down.
“You didn’t need to protect Lenyx,” I say.
“Instinct,” he bites out. Then, “People get hurt on the ice.”
My fingertips rest against his skin, directly above his pulse point. His pulse roars beneath my touch. “You wanted to protect him.”
Another nod. No words, but he doesn’t need them. I’m starting to get the picture.
“That’s perfectly understandable.” Given the comments about his mother, I’m guessing there’s a lot more to unpack there, but he’s already shared more than I was expecting. I don’t want to send him scrambling back into his protective shell.
“You, um.” He clears his throat again. “You stood up for me. With Dante.”
“He was being unfair. Only seeing one side of the equation.”
Owen’s mouth quirks into a lopsided smile. “He does that. Remy?”
“Yeah?”
“Why… Why don’t you treat me like a grenade?”
That’s what he thinks this is. That everyone is just waiting for him to explode.
I tilt my head to one side. “I’m not sure I understand the question.”
“You know.” He moves his hands, shaking off my touch in the process. He mimes pulling a pin, then lobbing a grenade across the room. “Like I’m gonna go off, and you want to get out of the blast radius.”
Feeling a little sheepish about my lingering touch, I try to play my faux pas off by not-so-casually tucking my hair behind one ear. “I guess I don’t see you that way.”
“How do you see me, then?”
For the second time today, I find myself locked in a staring contest. Owen’s question is a challenge, even if he’s not confronting me the same way that Dante did. The trouble is, I’m not sure how to answer. Over the last two weeks, the version ofOwen I’ve gotten to know doesn’t line up with the man in that awful viral video, but I still can’t get a read on who heis.
I’ve been quiet too long. Owen pushes his chair away from me. “Forget it. We should be talking about rules, right? Since I guess youaremy babysitter now?”
“Right. We should discuss logistics. And I’ll need to talk to my boss.” I’m sure Ezra is going to have a million questions. “I can come to the game tonight, and then…”
“I’ll go home from the rink. No afterparty. We can meet tomorrow? Once we have time to, you know.” He spreads his hands. “Process?”
“Sure. Is that okay, though? I don’t want to keep you away from your team.”
“They won’t miss me,” Owen says, like it’s a simple fact.
I don’t get it. He was protective of Lenyx, but he doesn’t think Lenyx wants him around. I don’t get the impression that he’s close to anyone on the team. Who are Owen’s people? Does he have anyone?
Given the terms of our new arrangement, I guess I’m about to find out.
Whether I want to or not.
Chapter Nine
Owen
