7. Aurora
CHAPTER SEVEN
Aurora
This was not what I expected.
I wasn’t sure why I was even here, aside from Owen inviting me in. It was a little small-town, but it was actually kinda cool.
The sound of pins crashing filled the air, followed by groans and cheers. At one of the lanes, a woman stood between two firefighters, laughing at something they said. She had the kind of presence that turned heads—bright, effortless, like she belonged everywhere she went.
I didn’t know her, but I recognized the type. The golden girl. The one who made friends easily, who fit into places like this without a second thought.
So when she caught my gaze and smiled, warm and welcoming, I surprised myself by smiling back. And when she made her way over, drink in hand, I didn’t immediately look for an escape.
“Hey, Owen,” she teased, sliding into the seat beside me. “Didn’t know you had a date tonight.”
Owen snorted. “It’s not a date.”
I took a sip of my cider, smirking. “You sound offended.”
He opened his mouth, then shut it again, shaking his head. The woman grinned.
“I’m Lila,” she said, turning her attention to me. “And you must be Aurora.”
“Must I?”
She laughed. “Oh, you're funny. I like you.”
The words caught me off guard. Not in a bad way—just in a way I wasn’t used to.
People were different here.
Not as cold as they were in the city. Not so career and money obsessed.
It was weird.
Before I could think too much about it, another woman approached. Blonde, sharp green eyes, and a knowing expression. She looked familiar.
She set her drink down on the table, giving me a once-over before nodding slightly, like she’d already figured something out about me.
“Samantha Barnes,” she introduced herself. “You're the bookstore girl, right?”
“That's me,” I said.
She tilted her head, studying me like I was some kind of puzzle. “I’m the barista at The Brewed Bean. So what do you think of Medford?”
It wasn’t an accusation, but it wasn’t exactly a casual question, either.
I waited a beat before answering. “It’s different.”
Lila laughed. “That's a nice way of putting it.”
A third woman pulled up a chair, dark hair framing her face as she settled in. Her eyes flicked toward me with interest, and something about her felt familiar, too, though I couldn’t quite place it.
“Morgan Hayes,” she said. “I think you’ve met my mom. She runs the Medford Inn.”
Ah, yes. She had the same sharp but welcoming energy as her mother.
“I have,” I said, nodding. “She's been great.”
Morgan smirked. “Yeah, she has a way of making people feel at home. Whether they want to or not.”
I huffed out a small laugh, and her smirk turned into a grin.
“If you think Medford’s different now, wait until the summer fair,” she added. “The whole town goes full small-town cliché.”
I shifted in my seat. “I don’t know if I'll still be here by then.”
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Morgan raised a brow. “No?”
I swallowed. “No, I have… a life elsewhere.”
Lila tilted her head, thoughtful. “Well, while you're here, you might as well have some fun.”
I didn’t respond right away. Because the truth was, I was having fun.
More than I expected. More than I wanted to admit.
Especially when I glanced at Owen, only to find him already looking at me.
And damn it all, I liked the way that felt.
A sharp whistle cut through the noise, and a familiar voice drawled, “Well, well. If it isn’t our bookstore girl, holding court.”
Mason.
I didn’t have to look to know he was grinning, but I did anyway. Sure enough, he was leaning against the table, arms crossed, that lazy smirk firmly in place.
That smirk that reminded me of the other night.
“Don’t let us interrupt, ladies,” he said, flashing a wink. “I just came to see if Aurora needed a bowling coach.”
“I think she's good,” Owen said dryly, shooting his brother a look.
Mason pressed a hand to his chest. “Ouch. That's the thanks I get for offering my services?”
Lila rolled her eyes. “Mason, you're terrible at bowling.”
“Details, Lila. Don’t get caught up in the details.”
I shook my head, fighting a smile. Mason had a way of pulling people into his orbit, like he was born to be the center of attention. I could see why women probably fell at his feet.
But it wasn’t just Mason who made my pulse do stupid things.
It was Owen.
And, if I was being honest, Ethan.
I could feel his gaze from across the room, heavy and intense. When I glanced his way, he didn’t bother looking away. Just studied me like I was some mystery he was trying to solve.
My stomach did something strange.
I quickly turned back to the group, where Mason had somehow roped Lila into a ridiculous debate about bowling technique, complete with exaggerated arm movements. Owen, meanwhile, had disappeared for a moment, only to return with another cider for me.
He set it in front of me, his voice low. “Figured you might be ready for a refill.”
I blinked. “I… Yeah. Thanks.”
He shrugged like it was no big deal, but something about the way he did it, the way he kept making sure I was comfortable, had warmth curling in my chest.
And then Mason ruined it.
“You see that, ladies? Owen’s out here setting the bar high. No wonder the rest of us struggle.”
Owen shot him a glare, but Mason just laughed, reaching for his own drink.
I shook my head, taking a sip of my cider. This whole night was starting to feel like something out of a movie—small-town charm, too many good-looking men, and me, the outsider, getting swept up in it all.
And the worst part?
I wasn’t sure I wanted it to end.