Page 41 of The Best I Never Had

I scroll. And scroll. And scroll. There are a few server jobs, nothing as nice as Cibare—which means smaller tips—but beggars and all that. I shoot off those applications, fighting to hold on to a scrap of optimism after a month of silence on the job front.

Even though my ass is now going numb from the hard hallway carpet, it was a great night. It’s been years since Addy and I sang together, and being on stage felt like magic. I close my eyes, letting my head drop back against the door while my mind drifts to that feeling, the song burrowing under my skin and the timing of my vocals hitting just right.

“Hey.”

The voice breaks me out of my daydream, and I jump like a cat who’s just seen aluminum foil.

“Sorry,” Owen says. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

I scramble to my feet. “No, I was just thinking. I didn’t hear you coming down the hallway.”

“What are you doing in the hallway?” he asks, one eyebrow quirking up in perfect time with the side of his mouth.

“The service in the room is absolute trash,” I say, then suck in a sharp breath when I realize I just insulted his family’s hotel. “I mean, the hotel is so nice and beautiful, and I love it here. The service just hasn’t been very reliable.”

He chuckles, holding out his hand for my phone, typing something in before handing it back. “You realize this is the twenty-first century, right? We have this thing called Wi-Fi.”

I glance around the cozy—but old-fashioned—inn. “As much as I love this place, it isn’t what I’d call high-tech.”

Owen’s lips twitch. “Yeah, Uncle Doug’s pretty resistant to change. But cell service is a problem all over the mountains, so Wi-Fi was one change he couldn’t argue his way out of.”

I slip my phone into the pocket of my hoodie. “Makes sense. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

He smiles again, looking down the hallway like he’s about to go, but a part of me isn’t ready for him to leave yet.

When he takes a step away, I blurt out, “What are you doing walking the hallways so late?”

He startles a little—which, fair, I practically screamed it—but then shrugs. “Mira was too drunk to get herself to bed. She kept making jokes about how Camila’s eating for two and she’s drinking for two.”

“Do you take care of everyone?”

He shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck. “She needed help.”

“What about Camila?”

Owen laughs, loud and unencumbered, and it’s such a beautiful sound, I’m temporarily stunned. “She wouldn’t let Camila touch her. Said she was too drunk and would knock her down and hurt the baby. Then she waxed poetic for ten minutes about how Camila is the love of her life. It was the most I’ve ever heard her talk. Pretty romantic, actually.”

“I’d never have taken her for the type,” I say. “She’s a bit terrifying.”

“Nah.” He shrugs one shoulder. “Tough on the outside, but worth the work of breaking through.”

I’m in awe of this man and the way he’s constantly giving to those around him.

“You’re a really great guy,” I say, more to remind myself of the type of person he is than anything else. He’s not for me.

His mouth quirks up and then back down, like he’s embarrassed by the compliment. “I walked a few rooms past my own. It’s not like I did anything revolutionary.”

He can dismiss it all he wants, but I’ve seen enough people to know he’s special. Most people don’t stick around when it’s easy, but here he is sticking around when it’s hard.

Owen leans against the doorframe while I take a position on the opposite side. “Did you have fun tonight?” he asks.

I bite my lip against a smile. “Yeah, surprisingly I did. I’ve never performed on stage.”

“Thea, you were…” He lets out a long breath. “Incredible.”

My cheeks heat, and I dip my head to hide the reaction. A lot of people tonight told me I was great, so why does this mean more?