Chapter 10
TEN
Owen
When we make it back to the suite, I throw my towel onto the couch and drag my palm down my jaw, my teeth clenched so hard they ache. My hands are still shaking from how close I came to drowning that bastard.
I’ve stood on a field in packed college stadiums, surrounded by tens of thousands of screaming fans. I’ve felt the bone-deep rush of fourth-quarter pressure, the kind that shakes you to your core and sharpens every instinct you have.
But none of that comes close to this.
The second that piece of shit touched Meadow, sliding his hand up her leg like he had a right to, I fucking saw red. Pure, blinding rage. My vision tunneled, my anger wiping away every rational thought.
One second, I was standing at the bar, and the next, I had his head under water.
Not thinking. Not breathing. Just reacting.
He’s lucky Meadow calmed me down, stopping me from shoving his ass back under.
I’ve never blacked out like that before. Never felt something snap so ruthlessly inside me to the point where it scared me afterward.
I flex my fingers, trying to ground myself in knowing that man will never lay his hands on Meadow again.
But the truth is, the danger wasn’t just him.
It’s what he woke up in me.
I could have fucking killed him. Spent the rest of my life locked up if I had taken it a step further.
I hate that Meadow had to see that side of me.
Any chance I ever had with her is gone now, thrown away the moment I snapped. She’s probably fucking afraid of me after watching me lose my shit like that.
“I was wrong, you know,” Meadow says quietly behind me.
There’s a careful note of humor in her voice, as if she’s trying to stitch normalcy back into the moment.
I turn to face her, my brows knitting together. “About what?”
She lets out a small, awkward chuckle. “About who would survive if we were stranded on a deserted island.” She shrugs, attempting to be casual.
“After seeing that ? I’m pretty sure it’d be you.
Actually, no. I know it would be you. For sure.
” Her smile wobbles. “That was… kind of crazy, Owen. And also bad ass. I’ve never seen you like that before. ”
Instead of laughing with her, I shake my head and drag my fingers through my hair.
“Owen,” she says quickly, stepping closer. “I’m just messing with you.”
I instinctively step back, still afraid of how fucking keyed up I am right now.
Her gaze drops to the floor, then flicks back up to me. My chest clenches at the brief flash of hurt that crosses her face.
Fuck , the way she looks like she’s been humiliated guts me.
“I’m sorry,” I finally mutter, my voice rough. “I just… I need a minute. I need to calm down. Get some air.”
“Sure,” she breathes softly. “I understand.”
I nod and turn toward the balcony, but her sweet voice stops me.
“Owen.”
Her words are barely above a whisper.
When I turn back, Meadow’s eyes are glassy, swirling like coffee colored clouds as she clutches her towel to her chest.
“Thank you,” she murmurs. “For what you did.”
Thank you.
Those two words are the last thing I expected her to say after what she just witnessed. Her gratitude tightens my lungs, making it hard to breathe.
I suck in an uneven breath, jaw flexing.
“I’d never stand by and let anyone violate you like that, Meadow,” I reply, my voice low and guttural. “Not ever. Over my dead body.”
I hold her gaze long enough to see a soft flush of red bloom across her cheeks. Then I force myself to turn away before I say something I can’t take back.
I head for the balcony to get some fresh air and calm the storm still raging in my veins.
When I step outside, I quietly shut the door behind me and lean my forearms against the railing. I drag in a breath of salty air, trying to steady myself as I stare out at the vast sea—so peaceful, so opposite of the way I feel inside.
I hate that the scene won’t leave my mind. It plays on a loop in my head like a fucked-up movie I can’t turn off. I can see it so clearly—his hand creeping up Meadow’s leg, inch by inch, dangerously close to her ass—right before everything went red and I lunged for him.
I’ve never felt that kind of protectiveness over anyone in my entire life. It was primal. An unrestrained predator, tearing its way to the surface.
I squeeze my eyes shut and breathe through my nose, forcing my heart rate to slow.
As if my head isn’t already a mess, tonight’s dinner presses into my thoughts. Meadow and I have reservations at The Palms, the resort’s outdoor restaurant, and I know I owe her a real conversation. Not some half-assed apology before I bolt outside for air like a coward.
I’m hoping that by the time we sit down tonight, I’ll have processed everything enough to talk to her. To really open up about why I reacted the way I did.
As much as it kills me to think about ruining our friendship, part of me knows that I need to tell Meadow the truth about how I feel about her.
Because I don’t know how I’m supposed to survive the rest of this week, shoving every emotion down and acting like Meadow’s nothing more than my friend.
If I ever needed proof that she’s much more than that, today was the final nail in the coffin.
I’m standing in the living area later that evening, dressed and ready for dinner. My hands flex anxiously at my sides as I wait for Meadow.
I’ve swapped out my swimtrunks for a lightweight linen shirt, the fabric soft and breathable against my skin, paired with olive-colored trousers that feel just dressy enough without trying too hard.
Hoping to ease my nerves, I take a shot of whiskey from the suite bar.
It’s ridiculous, really. I just saw Meadow a couple of hours ago. Spent the entire afternoon with her. But knowing she’s on the other side of that door, getting ready and carefully choosing what to wear, has my stomach churning with anticipation.
Feeling giddy and restless, I scrub a hand over my jaw and glance toward her door again. I don’t know what I’m expecting exactly, but whatever it is, I know it’s going to knock the breath right out of me.
My heart stops as the door opens.
“My God…”
The words slip out of me before I can even process my thoughts.
Meadow practically tumbles out of her room like a tiny tornado, muttering under her breath as she blows a loose strand of hair off her face. When she looks up, everything in my body stills.
She’s breathtaking.
Angelic, flawless, cute—too perfect to be real.
“Meadow…” I trail off. “You look… incredible.” My voice drops. “Fucking gorgeous.”
Her steps falter. “Oh. Uh—thanks,” she says, suddenly nervous, as she lowers her gaze and looks down her body. Her fingers clasp together, fidgeting in front of her.
“Turn around,” I murmur, unable to help myself, my tone thick with gravel and seduction. “Let me see you.”
She hesitates, eyes roaming over my face like she’s trying to decide if I’m serious or not.
“Do it, Meadow,” I command, my eyes glued to that goddam dress hugging her hips.
She swallows, then turns.
Fuck. Me.
She’s wearing an orange, silk dress that threatens to send me to an early grave. The fabric skims her body as if it were made just for her, designed to fit every curve and dip. The dress is long and elegant, with a slit that climbs high up her thigh.
Thin straps hang over her shoulders, leading to a low V neckline that shows off her soft, sun-warmed cleavage. The sides hang loose, teasing glimpses of her bare breasts, and before she finishes the turn, I see the back—open skin all the way down, her shoulder blades shiny under the warm light.
Her dark hair is swept up and away from her neck, pinned back in a loose, effortless knot that leaves every inch of her on display. Her skin is flushed from the sun she caught earlier today, a personal kiss from the island itself.
“Wow,” I shake my head, knowing my face is giving away every sinful thought in my head.
She bites her bottom lip, clearly unsure what to do with the way I’m staring at her. “I’m guessing that’s a good wow ?”
I exhale a choppy breath and roam my eyes down her body once more.
“I’m at a loss for words,” I admit. “You’re fucking sexy, Meadow. Christ. ”
Her eyes go wide.
“Oh—okay,” she coughs, taken aback by my response. “That’s… flattering,” she recovers.
She tilts her head, her eyes sweeping over me. “You look handsome, by the way,” she adds. “In case you wanted to feel weird too.”
That causes a laugh to rumble from my chest.
I smirk. “Nothing weird about telling your husband he looks good, Mrs. Brooks.”
She snorts, shaking her head as she grabs her purse. “You’ll never let me live that down, will you?”
“Hell no,” I shake my head. “Mrs. Brooks for life.”
If only that were true.
Meadow rolls her eyes, but the blotches of red creeping up her neck tell a completely different story.
“Come on,” she adds, already moving toward the door. “We’re going to be late for our reservation.”
I don’t give a damn about our reservation.
I have all I need right here in front of me.
“Okay, okay,” I drag out and follow her, but right as Meadow reaches for the handle, instinct takes over.
I catch her gently by the forearm, spinning her back toward me. My palm tingles against her warm skin.
“Meadow.”
“Yeah?” She replies, her gaze darting up and down my body with confusion.
“About earlier today…” I take a breath. “I want us to have a good night. And before we go, I just want to say that I’m sorry you had to see me like that. That angry .” I search her face. “But I’m not sorry for what I did to that bastard. Not for a second. I’ll never apologize for that.”
Her mocha eyes hold my stare as a moment of understanding passes between us. Then a soft smile breaks across her face, slow and genuine.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she reassures me. “That guy deserved every second of it.” She pauses, then adds quietly, “Seriously, Owen… Thank you.”
My fingers gently squeeze her forearm in response.