Page 53 of The Best I Never Had

That’s assuming we even make it the rest of our lives. It’s easy for him to romanticize what could be while we’re up here, surrounded by beauty and buffered from real-life stressors. He doesn’t know me yet. Once he does, he’ll want out, just like everyone else. I can’t risk my relationship with Addy for a few weeks of fun before he breaks my heart.

“You know I’m right,” I say.

He sighs. “So what do we do?”

I lift a shoulder, letting it drop back down in an overexaggerated move that rattles my body just so I can feel something besides the urge to pull Owen back between my legs. “Do what we planned to begin with? Keep our distance, get through the next five days, and move on?”

A breath shudders out of him. “Okay.” He walks over to me, taking my head between his hands and placing a kiss on my forehead. I allow myself one inhale to savor his deep, sweet scent until he murmurs onto my skin, “But for the record, I’m not happy about it.”

He walks back to the bowl, and I slip away to wash out my hair, focusing on getting the cake batter out instead of the fact that I’m not happy about it, either.

Chapter 17

OWEN

It’s hours later, and I still can’t get that moment with Thea out of my head. The way she arched into me. Her husky moan when she felt me against her. The brush of her lips against mine and her cinnamon scent wafting around me.

I also can’t stop hearing her words, the insistence that she’ll ruin everything for Addy. That she’s broken somehow. That she wants me, too, but doesn’t trust herself to have me. As much as I want to fight it, she’s made her wishes clear, so I respect them.

I made the test cake alone, then avoided any overlapping tasks on Dawn’s afternoon to-do list—helping Harrison with the seating chart while Thea finished up the place cards. When the family grabbed dinner, I sat on the opposite end of the table. And I determinedly kept my eyes away from her every time we passed. The limits of my control only reach so far, and my best shot at success is complete and total distance.

Now we’re going to the movie in the park down in Elk Ridge, and I’m supposed to spend the night pretending like I’m not itching to speak to her.

I’m up in my room, grabbing the last few things I need before heading to the lobby when the door beeps and slides open.

“I have my hands over my eyes. Please tell me you’re dressed so I can look where I’m going and not break a hip,” Nana calls from the door.

I laugh. “Most people would just knock.”

“Most people’s grandsons haven’t been avoiding them for the past twenty-four hours like a slippery little eel. Now answer the damn question.”

“Yes, Nana, I’m dressed. You can drop your hand.” She lowers it with a sigh, letting the door swing closed behind her. “And I haven’t been avoiding you.”

One of her manicured eyebrows lifts toward her gray hair. “You’ve turned on your heel at least three times when you’ve seen me. Had to make sure you didn’t slither under the bed and pretend not to be here when I knocked.”

I plop down on the mattress with a sigh while she takes a seat at the desk across from me. “It wasn’t that—”

“Yes, yes, you weren’t avoiding me. It was all coincidental and you’re sorry and all the other bullshit. Can we skip that and get to the point? Why did you lie about Thea?”

She looks almost hurt—as hurt as Cece Ellis would ever let herself be—and I feel a surge of regret. I don’t know how to explain this to her.

“I just…” I start, knowing she won’t let me off the hook. “I just wanted a break.”

“From?” she prompts, like she doesn’t know just how pushy Mom’s been.

“From the setups. From Mom, always trying to get me to the next stage of life. Having me carry on the Hayes legacy. Do you know how many times she set me up before Cami’s wedding? Over a dozen. Half of them I didn’t even know were setups. I got wherever she asked me to meet her and was met by some woman instead. I started developing a Pavlovian response to seeing her name on my phone.”

“What did she say when you asked her to stop?”

I laugh pessimistically. “Either she got one of her headaches for a week or lectured me about how I wasn’t taking my future seriously.”

“Has it gotten that bad?” Nana asks, her brows pulling together, and I realize that she doesn’t know just how intense Mom has been.

“Yes,” I say, deciding not to mince words. “And it’s not new. It’s been this bad since Dad died. I know how important it is for her that I keep his memory alive, but this isn’t something I can give her. My career is one thing, but my partner in life?”

“You shouldn’t have to give her anything,” Nana says, then rolls her lips together like she’s trying to trap in the sound. “I’ll talk to her. You should have the freedom to make the choices you want in life, not the ones she wants for you.”

“No,” I say, the words forceful enough to make Nana jump in her seat. The last thing we need is Nana talking to Mom and setting her off before the wedding.