6. Owen
CHAPTER SIX
Owen
The familiar scent of shoe disinfectant and stale popcorn wafted out from the Medford Bowl as I stepped inside.
Friday night bowling league was in full swing, laughter, the crash of pins, and the low hum of conversation bouncing off the polished lanes.
It was a welcome distraction from work and the mishaps that kept piling up. Nothing serious since the F-150 incident, but the thought of sabotage—like Mason suggested—still bothered me.
Ethan and Mason were setting up their names on the scoreboard, beers in hand. The cops were already talking trash, and the firefighters weren’t far behind.
Ryan, Jaxon, and Colt—cocky as ever—had Lila perched between them. She laughed at something one of them whispered.
They were impossible to rattle. A solid unit, though they’d caused a bit of a stir when they first got together. A lot of people had opinions about their unusual relationship, but who could be mad when they were so clearly happy and in love?
Adam, Kai, and Samuel sat at the next table, half watching the game, half talking business.
“We locked in the property,” Adam said, grinning.
Kai nodded. “Big place. Perfect for what we want.”
“A restaurant?” I asked.
Samuel stretched, looking satisfied. “More than that. A landmark. Medford needs something fresh.”
Mason grunted. “That why you're sitting out tonight?”
“We’re celebrating.” Adam shrugged. “Not stressing over a league game.”
Ethan let his ball fly.
Strike.
He turned with a smirk. “That's why you're gonna lose.”
The firefighters hooted. The cops groaned. Lila cheered.
I grabbed my ball. Lined up. Let it roll.
Strike.
Ryan whistled. “Damn, Grady’s on fire.”
I grinned. “You know it.”
Game on.
Mason scoffed. “One strike doesn’t make you a legend, Owen.”
I smirked. “Neither does running your mouth, but that's never stopped you.”
Ethan clinked his beer against Mason’s. “He's got a point.”
Mason rolled his eyes. “You just like seeing me lose.”
Ethan grinned. “Absolutely.”
Mason took his turn, rolling his shoulders before sending his ball straight down the lane. It veered slightly, just enough to miss the pocket. Eight pins.
“Nice try, little bro,” Ethan said, taking a swig of his beer.
Mason turned, deadpan. “Just because you're older doesn’t make you better.”
“It does when you bowl like that.”
The cops snickered, and Ryan leaned over to Jaxon. “We got it this year, no problem.”
Mason flipped him off before picking up his spare.
“This is better than the game,” Kai said with a chuckle.
Samuel nodded. “Grady entertainment at its finest.”
My turn again. I lined up, letting the noise fade. Rolled. Another strike.
“Could be luck,” Colt said.
“Could be skill,” I countered.
Mason huffed. “Could be annoying.”
Lila nudged him. “Oh, come on. You love the competition.”
Mason muttered something under his breath before grabbing his beer.
Ethan took his turn next, assuming his usual cocky stance, fingers loose on the ball. He sent it rolling, watching it curve at the last second. Strike.
He turned, arms outstretched. “And that's why I’m the favorite.”
Mason snorted. “No one’s ever said that.”
Colt leaned forward. “So you're saying you could take Owen in a one-on-one match?”
Ethan met my gaze. “Absolutely.”
I smirked. “Wanna bet on it?”
The firefighters and cops let out an “ooooh” in unison.
“Here we go.” Mason grinned.
Jaxon tapped his chin. “Loser buys the next round?”
Ryan added, “And wears the pink bowling shirt?”
We all turned to the pro shop’s display—a bright pink monstrosity with “Gutter King” embroidered across the front.
Ethan groaned. “You guys are relentless.”
I grinned. “Still sure you can take me?”
He eyed the shirt. Looked back at me. Then grabbed his ball. “Bring it on.”
The night was just getting started.
Ethan lost.
Badly.
The pink “Gutter King” shirt fit him perfectly, though.
Mason took about fifty pictures, sending them to our group chat. Lila doubled over laughing. The cops heckled him mercilessly, and the firefighters made a toast in his honor. Ryan even wiped a fake tear.
Ethan just downed his beer and grumbled, “Enjoy this while it lasts.”
“Oh, I will,” I said, smirking.
The game carried on, the usual back and forth between our teams filling the alley. Mason got his rhythm back, landing himself a turkey. Colt, despite his trash talk, barely avoided a gutter ball.
Jaxon bowled with the ease of someone who didn’t take it too seriously, while Ryan stayed laser-focused. The cops kept the competition fierce, but the real entertainment came from the sideline commentary.
“Hey, Owen,” Kai called, lifting his beer. “You ever consider running a restaurant with us?”
I snorted. “You think I wanna work for you?”
Adam grinned. “I mean, it’d be more of a partnership, but sure, we could boss you around.”
Samuel leaned back in his chair, watching a strike land two lanes over. “He's good with numbers. Could handle the business side.”
I rolled my shoulders. “You trying to steal me from the shop?”
Kai shrugged. “Just putting it out there. Big plans, my friend.”
I shook my head with a smirk, turning back to my drink.
And that was when I saw her.
Through the window, walking down the sidewalk, wrapped in that deep green coat that made her look like something out of an old Hollywood movie.
Aurora Bennett.
My pulse stuttered before kicking up, sharp and insistent.
She wasn’t even doing anything, just walking, her hair catching the glow of the streetlights. The kind of gorgeous that made the world slow down.
The kind that wasn’t just about looks but something else, something harder to define. Like she belonged somewhere bigger, but had no idea.
She paused outside the bakery across the street.
Just stood there, staring at the darkened windows like they held all the answers to something she hadn't figured out yet.
I knew that feeling.
She looked lonely.
Not in the obvious way. Not the kind where someone’s sitting by themselves at a bar or walking through town without company.
It was deeper than that, the kind that settled in your bones. The kind you carried even when you were surrounded by people.
Before I could think twice about it, I pushed back from the table.
Mason raised a brow. “Where you going?”
“Be right back.”
Ethan, still sulking in his pink bowling shirt, smirked. “Say hi to Aurora for us.”
So he’d noticed her too. Of course he had.
I ignored him, stepping outside into the crisp night air.
She didn’t see me at first. Her arms were wrapped around herself, and she looked like she was trying to talk herself into something. Or maybe out of it.
“Aurora.”
Her head jerked up, eyes wide.
She was even prettier up close, the kind of pretty that made my throat feel tight.
Her hair was loose tonight, falling over her shoulders in soft waves. The streetlights caught hints of auburn in the strands, and for a second, I forgot how to do normal things. Like speak.
Her lips parted slightly, then she blinked. “Owen?”
Hearing my name in her voice did something strange to me. Something I didn’t have a name for.
“You wanna come inside?” I offered. “Have a drink?”
Her brows lifted. “With you?”
“With all of us. It’s Friday. Bowling.”
Did that sound too small-town?
Yeah. I was sure it did.
She huffed out a laugh, quiet but warm. “I’m not really in a drinking mood.”
“Then come in for the company.” I nodded toward the window, where our group was still laughing over something. “It’s loud, but at least it’s not…”
I hesitated. Not lonely. Not whatever it was I saw on her face before.
She seemed to get it anyway. Her fingers curled into the fabric of her coat, like she was debating. Then, finally, she nodded.
“Okay.”
I held the door open, and she stepped inside.
It was a small thing. A simple thing.
But my pulse was racing like I’d just done something way bigger than invite a beautiful woman in for a drink.
Aurora hesitated just inside the door.
The noise, the lights, the easy camaraderie between everyone—it was a lot. I could see it in the way her shoulders tensed, the way her eyes flicked around like she wasn’t sure she belonged here.
I knew that feeling, too.
So I didn’t push. Didn’t crowd her. Just turned toward the bar and said, “What's your drink?”
She blinked at me.
“Oh. Uh,” Her hands tucked into the sleeves of her coat. “I don’t know. I wasn’t really planning on staying.”
I shrugged. “Then it doesn’t count.”
That earned me a small, skeptical smile. “That's not how drinking works.”
I leaned on the counter, nodding toward the bartender. “Beer? Wine? Something fancy with an umbrella?”
She rolled her eyes but didn’t look quite so tense anymore. “Just a cider, I guess.”
I ordered two. Handed her one.
She took it, fingers brushing mine for half a second.
Warm. Soft. She looked at me like she’d felt it too.
“Come on,” I said. “You can sit with me.”
Aurora glanced at the group by the lanes. The guys were still talking trash, Lila was leaning against Jaxon’s side, and Mason was flipping through the scoreboard with his usual intensity.
It was chaos in the best way.
But I got it. She wasn’t there yet.
So I led her to a quieter corner by the high-top tables. Out of the center of things, but still part of the atmosphere. I pulled out a chair, and after a small hesitation, she sat.
“Okay,” she said, tilting her head. “So, do you do this often?”
“What?”
“Find women wandering the streets and lure them into bowling alleys with alcohol?”
I smirked. “Only the ones who look like they could use a drink.”
Her lips twitched, but then her gaze dropped to her cider. She traced the rim with her finger, and something about the movement felt uncertain.
“You okay?” I asked.
She didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Then, “I don’t really do this kind of thing.”
“What, bowling?”
“Being out in this sort of environment.” She exhaled, looking almost embarrassed. “I don’t know how to explain it. It’s just a lot.”
I nodded. “Yeah. I get it.”
She studied me. “Do you?”
I held her gaze. “More than you think.”
Aurora didn’t look away this time. Didn’t fidget or shift like she wanted to escape.
She just sat there, really looking at me, like she was seeing me in a way most people didn’t bother to.
And damn if that didn’t do something to me.