Page 78 of The Best I Never Had

“It’ll be okay,” he says calmly, like the world isn’t falling apart around me right now. “How could we have known a storm like this would come in?”

“We couldn’t, which is why I should have just gone straight there and straight back.”

“Sweetheart,” he says, brushing one of my wet curls behind my ear. “We’ll sort something out. It’s just a spa trip.”

“To you,” I say, louder than I want. “To you, it’s just a spa trip. But to Addy, that massage or facial or whatever the fuck we were supposed to do—this whole damn wedding—is a representation of her future with your family. And she asked for my help, trusted me when I’ve screwed up so many things for her. And I broke that trust. I was selfish and—”

“Stop,” he says, his voice coming out sharp, and he paces a few steps away from me.

My heart screams, Here it is, Thea. That last push that sends him running for the hills. If there’s anything my life has taught me, it’s that everyone has their limit. Push hard enough, and they’ll eventually break. And when they do, they’ll leave you behind. Even knowing this, my traitorous heart held out hope that Owen would be different. It’s crying out now, watching as he puts more and more distance between us.

When he turns back to me, there’s fire in his eyes. “You are not selfish. From the second you stepped foot in North Carolina, you’ve done nothing but give to the people around you. Keeping up this ruse—which I’m to blame for—so that Addy and Harrison’s day isn’t ruined. Running all over these damn mountains to help Addy. Working for free so Camila can get her medication.”

“Yes, I’ve helped, but I’ve also had to work really hard not to screw things up, too. Do you know how many times I almost bit your mom’s head off in the past few days?”

“She’s deserved to have her head bitten off!” Owen says.

I laugh through the tears, and he smiles, his smallest of smiles. The one he gives when he’s almost embarrassed at having made me laugh.

He steps closer, taking my hand between his. “From what I’ve seen, you only get angry when someone’s being treated badly, and it’s beautiful to watch. You have the kindest heart, and you’re protective of your people. That’s a good thing, and I hate every person in your past who made you think you’re anything less than perfect.”

His words strike the middle of my chest, and I rub at the ache. “So everyone?” I whisper, unable to stop taking swings at myself.

“They’re idiots,” he says fiercely.

“Easy for you to say right now, but there’s normally a reason for a pattern.” I shrug, trying to brush off the way my insides feel like they’re being eviscerated. “I’m not the type of person people keep.”

Owen’s eyes fill with tears. “What if I want to keep you?”

My limbs shake as heat spreads through me with the most overwhelming sensation of fear and exhilaration. I’ve never been wanted, not beyond a few hookups, and it makes no sense that this man—this kind, generous, gorgeous man—would be the first. It doesn’t line up with my worldview at all.

But maybe he’s right. Maybe my worldview is skewed and there’s truth in what Cece told me on the mountain. That we believe what people say we are, and sometimes we need the right person at the right time to help us see ourselves clearly.

“Why?” I ask, stepping closer and bringing our bodies nearly flush. “Why do you want to keep me?”

Owen bites his bottom lip against his smile. “You’re just digging for compliments now.”

I shrug a little, running my hands up his chest. “Humor me.”

He drops his head, running his nose along the curve of my jaw. “Too many reasons to count. How about how your laugh invigorates me more than my morning coffee?”

“I do have a great laugh,” I say, and he smiles, the curve of it stamped onto my skin.

“How about the way everything inside me screams to touch you anytime you get within reach? To keep you close. That no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make any of it feel fake.”

He presses a kiss to the underside of my jaw, letting his tongue swipe against the pulse point there, and I moan. My hands come to his shoulders, clutching them to keep from sliding to the floor.

“And when I’m with you, I don’t feel like the caretaker brother or reliable son or helpful cousin. I feel like I’m just me.”

He pulls back to look at me. I run my hand up and into his hair, damp from the rain. “I’m glad I get just you. Because I think you may be my favorite person.”

“I know you’re mine.”

Those words destroy our resolve to keep this new game going. I tug on his hair, smashing my lips against his. Our tongues vie for dominance as his hands move to my ass, squeezing tight, causing us both to moan and pant into each other’s mouths. His grip shifts to the backs of my thighs, lifting until I wrap my legs around his waist, grinding down on him.

“Fuck,” he moans, and I swallow the word. “I need you.”

“Condom?” Please, God, let him have one this time.