Page 24 of The Best I Never Had

A few minutes later, Harrison and Addy finish up their final run so we can head back to the car. Addy slips her arm through mine, pulling us a few feet behind the boys.

“You doing okay?” she asks in a hushed voice. “You know, with all the Owen stuff? It’s been a lot of time with him today.”

A true smile splits my face, because I’m doing better than okay. This morning was fun. Unexpected. “Yeah, I’m fine. I told you not to worry about it. We’re good.”

She smiles, but it’s strained around the edges, more like the one she gives the rest of the world. “Good. Great. So happy to hear that.”

We make it another ten steps in silence before she speaks again.

“I need to ask you something. For something, really. A favor.” She sucks in a fortifying breath. “Please don’t get involved with Owen again.”

I’m stunned into silence. When she said a favor, my mind went to the wedding. Steaming her dress or helping with the seating chart. Not this.

Before I can speak, she jumps in. “I didn’t get it before, but I see it now. The chemistry between you. But things are different than they were three years ago. My life is so wrapped up with his. Not only am I marrying his brother, but he’s my boss.”

I laugh to disguise the discomfort I feel at her request. “He’s not really your boss. It would have been better if he was. You talk so much about work and your team, I’d have been able to put two and two together before we got blindsided at the welcome party.”

“He’s the president of the company, Tia. He’s everyone’s boss. It doesn’t matter that I don’t report to him. He could have me fired with a single word.” It’s on the tip of my tongue to point out that Owen would never fire an employee out of spite, but I know where the fear comes from. The insecurity of our childhood makes it hard to trust a good thing. “All my happiness is connected to this one family, and that’s terrifying. You know, the whole eggs-and-basket thing.”

“And me and Owen would tip over your basket?” I don’t know why I’m arguing when I have no intention of dating Owen, but something about it feels like sandpaper to skin.

“Well, you tried once, and it didn’t work, right? I know how easy it is to fall back into old feelings when you’re forced close together.”

She’s thinking about her toxic college boyfriend, the one who broke up with her before each break, only to pull her back in when it was easy for him. I’d get the same call every semester. It’s different now and We’ll work this time, until her senior year when she started recognizing she’s worth more than a man who treats her like a convenience. She told me she’d never have gotten back together with him the first time if they hadn’t been forced to spend time together for class.

I hate that she’s equating Owen to that human equivalent of a trash can.

She worries her lip with her teeth. “If you guys wanted to get back together, wouldn’t you have called each other before this? When we get back home, all those issues that broke you up will still be there, but now I’ll be in the middle.”

I want to push back, but she’s right. We may not have had the first time she thinks we did, but I’ve ruined every real relationship. She’s seen my pattern of behavior. I get excited about a new guy. We go out for a little. I struggle to open myself up and trust them. We blow up in spectacular fashion. I’m not surprised she doesn’t want me anywhere near her future brother-in-law.

I force out a smile. “Owen and I are on the same page. You have nothing to worry about.”

I mean the words as I say them, but when Owen smiles at me over his shoulder, I think I may have just lied to my baby sister for a second time.

Chapter 8

OWEN

We make it back with just enough time to change and meet up with everyone. Thea was quieter than usual on the drive back. I got nothing more than a small chuckle when I pointed out the Textbooks and Mystical Crystals storefront. I wanted to ask if something was wrong but worried about doing it in front of Harrison and Addy.

I jog up to the ballroom where the event planning offices are to snag the key to the bus. My aunt put a giant yellow key chain on them years ago to keep us from losing them, and I swing them around my finger as I head to bring the bus around front.

It’s an Ellis family tradition to have at least one sporting event when we’re all together. Everyone’s so competitive—probably unhealthily so—and it’s nice to be our most obnoxious selves for an afternoon, knowing that our competitors will trash-talk us all day but still love us that night. When we’re together for a special occasion, the family member of honor gets to pick the event.

For Camila’s wedding, she set up a massive croquet tournament on the events lawn. Thea took one look at it and said, “What sort of fancy-ass Bridgerton hell is this?”

Her eyes had gone so wide I could see the whites around her irises, but the whole family was with her. We’d all been giving Camila—the least athletic cousin—crap about her choice for weeks, and a dozen cousins sought me out during the game to comment on how perfect Thea was for our family.

When it became abundantly clear that neither Thea nor I were going to win, I asked if she’d be open to some light sabotage. Thea took to it beautifully, strategizing on the best ways to screw over my more successful cousins. At one point, she sent Camila’s ball flying so far that it went off the lawn and all the way down the sloped path to the inn. She’d been two swings away from winning, and she’d dropped to her knees, screaming to the sky, while I scooped Thea up in my arms, swinging her around as we cheered like we’d won the World Series.

There’ll be no need for sabotage this time. Harrison picked baseball, and I’ve never loved him more. It’s been years since I swung a bat, but some things your body doesn’t forget.

Most of my family is waiting when I pull the bus to the front of the inn. I hop off as they start loading up, lugging coolers of beer I’m sure they’ll pop open as soon as they sit. Let them drink. The drunker they get, the worse they’ll play. Then again, I should keep my team sober.

Thea’s in the middle of the pack and stops next to where I’m leaning against the side. Her gaze slides up my joggers and T-shirt, pausing for a moment on the baseball cap I tugged on as I ran out the door. I wish I could see myself through her eyes, to know for sure if that’s heat flaring in them or just my hopeful thinking.

“So this is the famed family bus,” she says.