Chapter 28 #2
“Can you breathe, please? I need you to survive this conversation.”
She pressed a hand to her chest, taking a dramatic breath. “Okay. Okay. I’m calm.” Her eyes were practically vibrating with barely contained excitement. “But seriously, Har. How? When? I need details.”
“It’s kind of... recent,” I admitted. “Like, very recent. We’re still figuring things out.”
“Does Jax know?”
“Not yet. We’re planning to tell him. We just wanted to make sure it was real first. Before we dealt with all the...” I gestured vaguely at the air. “...drama.”
“The drama.” Syn’s expression sobered. “You mean because of Cam?”
“More because of Jax. I honestly don’t think Cam could care less. She’s with her person now.” I paused, choosing my next words carefully. “But yeah. There’s... history. Complications.”
“Owen has a track record, Har. He’s kind of a fuck boy. I don’t want to see you get hurt. He cheated on Cam. That’s not...” She trailed off, clearly struggling. “That’s not nothing.”
“Jax was a fuck boy too,” I said, deflecting. “Before Kaia.”
“That’s different.”
“Is it though?”
Syn studied me, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a smile crept back onto her face.
“Okay,” she said. “Then I’m happy for you. I’m really, really happy for you, Har. You’ve wanted this for so long.”
Relief washed over me. “Thank you for not making this weird.”
“Oh, it’s definitely weird. My sister-slash-best-friend is dating the guy who’s practically my brother’s other brother, who is married to your actual sister. I’m going to need a whiteboard and several different colored markers to map this out.” She grinned. “But it’s the good kind of weird.”
“Do you think Jax will be angry with Owen?”
Syn shrugged. “I don’t think Jax will like it, but honestly…
” She paused, glancing to her left before looking back.
“I think Jax is going to be too exhausted to care right now.” She chuckled.
“He’s still figuring out this whole new parent thing.
Kailyn doesn’t sleep more than an hour or two at a time. ”
I cringed. “I just don’t want to cause issues between them.”
Syn shrugged again. “I think you need to do what makes you happy. Jax will get over it.”
I smiled. “Just please don’t tell anyone yet. We want to do it on our own terms.”
“My lips are sealed.” She mimed zipping them shut, then locking them, then throwing away the key. “But you owe me details later. Real details. Not this vague we’re figuring it out nonsense. I want the whole story.”
“Deal.”
The sound of keys in the front door made my heart stutter.
“He’s home,” I said, and I could hear the smile in my own voice before I felt it on my face. “I should go.”
“Oh my God, you’re smiling. You’re actually smiling like a lovesick idiot. This is disgusting, and I love it.”
“Goodbye, Syn.”
“Use protection.”
I hung up before she could traumatize me further, my cheeks burning hot enough to start a small fire.
The front door swung open, and Owen walked in dressed in black joggers slung low on his hips, a white team shirt stretched across his chest, and an unzipped hoodie framing broad shoulders.
His hair was messy and still damp from what I assumed was a post-practice shower.
He had that easy, loose-limbed energy that meant practice had gone well.
Our eyes met across the room.
My chest tightened, and my stomach fluttered.
He stopped when he saw me on the floor, surrounded by my mess of study materials. “Well.” A smile tugged at his mouth. “This is...”
“Don’t make fun of me. Anatomy is trying to destroy my will to live.”
“Looks like it’s winning.” He dropped his bag by the door and crossed the room.
I expected him to sit beside me, but he didn’t.
He lowered himself onto the carpet behind me, his long legs appearing on either side of mine, bracketing my body with his.
Before I could process the position, his arms wrapped around my waist from behind, and he pulled me back against the solid wall of his chest.
Heat flooded through me instantly.
“How’s the studying going?” he murmured against my ear. The scent of his body wash surrounded me, something clean and masculine that made me want to press my nose to his throat and just breathe.
“Terrible.” I tried to keep my voice steady, but it was difficult when every hard plane of his torso pressed against my back. When his heart was beating strong and steady against my shoulder blade. “I’ve read the same paragraph seventy times, and I still can’t understand what a ventral rami is.”
“Sounds brutal.” His chin settled on my shoulder. His stubble scraped against the sensitive skin of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. “What’s a ventral rami?”
“I just told you I don’t know.”
“Right.” His chest vibrated with quiet laughter. “Sorry. Not helpful.”
“Not even a little.” I tried to refocus on the diagram, but Owen’s hands started moving, tracing slow patterns across my stomach through the thin fabric of my shirt. His thumbs swept back and forth along my hipbones. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing.” His tone was the picture of innocence. His hands were anything but. “Just sitting here. Being supportive.”
“This doesn’t feel like support. This feels like sabotage.”
“I’m a very hands-on supporter.” His fingers slipped beneath the hem of my shirt, finding bare skin, and I sucked in a sharp breath. His touch was warm, almost hot, tracing lines of fire across my abdomen.
I snorted, fighting to maintain composure. “That’s terrible.”
“You laughed.” His lips brushed the curve of my neck, feather-light, and goosebumps erupted across my skin like wildfire. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss just below my ear, his tongue darting out to taste my skin, and my eyes fluttered shut.
“Owen.” It was supposed to be a warning, but it came out breathless. Needy.
“Hmm?”
“I have to study.”
“I know.” Another kiss, this one lower on my throat, followed by the gentle scrape of his teeth. His hands had traveled higher, palms spreading hot against my ribcage, thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts. “You’re very dedicated. It’s one of my favorite things about you.”
“If you know I need to study, why are you…” I lost my train of thought as his teeth grazed my earlobe, then tugged gently. A soft moan escaped me before I could stop it. “That’s cheating.”
“What’s cheating?” He practically growled against my skin.
“That. The thing you just did. With your mouth.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” One hand cupped my breast through my bra. His thumb found my nipple and circled slowly, making it harden. “I’m just sitting here. Innocently.”
“There is nothing innocent about this situation.” I reached for my textbook with trembling hands, determined to at least pretend to focus.
“I have an exam in three days. That’s seventy-two hours.
That’s...” I tried to do the math. Failed.
His other hand slipped lower, fingers tracing along the waistband of my underwear, dipping just beneath the elastic before retreating.
“...some number of minutes. A lot of them.”
“You know what helps with studying?”
“Silence and solitude?”
“Breaks.” He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the junction of my neck and shoulder, sucking gently, and my eyes fluttered shut against my will. His hand slid underneath my bra, cupping me, and I arched into his touch. “Studies show that taking regular breaks improves information retention.”
“What studies?”
“Very official ones. Done by scientists. At universities.”
“You’re making that up.”
“Possibly.” His hands traveled lower, palms sliding down my stomach, leaving trails of heat in their wake. His fingers played with the waistband of my panties again. “But even if I am, can you honestly say you’re retaining any information right now?”
He had a point. The only thing I was retaining was the feeling of his hands on my skin and the warm, solid weight of him pressed against my back.
I twisted in his arms, turning to face him. Our eyes locked, holding for a moment before my gaze dropped to his mouth. Those perfect lips, slightly parted, waiting.
“Kiss me,” I whispered.
He didn’t make me ask twice.
His hand came up to cup my jaw, tilting my face to the perfect angle, and then his mouth was on mine. He kissed me like he’d been thinking about it all day, like he was dying for it.
I gasped at the intensity, and he used the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding against mine in long, drugging strokes.
He tasted like mint and something darker, something that was purely Owen, and I couldn’t get enough.
I fisted my hands in his hoodie and pulled him closer, trying to eliminate every millimeter of space between us.
He groaned into my mouth, a low, desperate sound that vibrated through my entire body, and the hand on my jaw slid into my hair, gripping the strands at the nape of my neck and tugging gently. The slight sting sent a bolt of pure electricity straight down my spine.
“Harlow.” My name was a ragged prayer against my lips. He kissed me deeper, harder, his teeth grazing my bottom lip before he sucked it into his mouth. The sensation made me whimper and press closer, desperate for more.
We broke apart just long enough to gasp for air, our foreheads pressed together, breathing ragged and uneven.
“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he admitted. “All through practice, I kept zoning out.”
“That sounds like a you problem.”
He laughed and captured my mouth again. He took his time exploring, learning every curve and corner of my mouth like he was memorizing me. Like he wanted to know me by heart.
His lips curved against mine, and the last of my resolve crumbled.
I let the textbook fall from my hands with a thump, my head tilting back to give him better access. His satisfied hum vibrated through me as his kisses shifted from playful to possessive, trailing down my jaw, my throat, the sensitive hollow behind my ear.