Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
Meadow
My bones rattle as the bass ricochets off the walls.
The sound waves roll through the floor and up my legs, heightening every nerve ending, my skin hypersensitive to the heat, lights, and press of bodies around me.
Neon colors flash and stutter across the dance floor, spotlighting sweaty silhouettes grinding to the music. It feels like the club is a living, breathing creature, as we all move in time to the same pulse.
It’s impossible to stand still.
My hips sway without thought, loose and effortless, caught in the rhythm as I hover by the edge of the crowd, gaze locked on the only man I have eyes for.
Across the smoky room, Owen steps away from the bar, weaving through the cluster of bodies with two plastic cups in his hands. Water —one for me, one for him.
God knows we need it.
The drunken haze from the rum tasting burned off hours ago, but I still feel pleasantly buzzed from the beachside cocktails we had before getting ready to go out.
Aside from the dehydration, I feel… good. Relaxed. Not drunk or out of control. Just weightless and floaty, like I’m swaying on a happy cloud. I can’t remember the last time my limbs felt this at ease.
I’ve been so distracted that I haven’t even had a second to think about the way I’ve acted around Owen today.
The incessant touching and teasing.
The way I keep drifting toward him is like a moth to a flame.
Maybe it’s the alcohol humming through my veins, unraveling all the rigid, careful parts of me. Or maybe I’m just tired of masking the way I feel around him.
Either way, I don’t care.
Today has been one of the best days of my life—touching Owen without pulling away, flirting with him without overthinking it, saying things I’d normally swallow down before they ever reached my lips.
Hell, maybe I feel this free because there’s a built-in excuse. If I embarrass myself, I can always blame it on the rum when I wake up.
But right now, I don’t care about tomorrow. I just want tonight.
God, it’s fun being this version of myself around him. Bold, playful, and a little reckless. And with how Owen’s been all over me, I would say he’s loving it too.
When Owen finally finds me, locking eyes with me through the crowd, we both smile instantly.
Thankfully, there’s a rail behind me to lean on to keep me from falling flat on my ass. At this rate, I’m going to need a double knee replacement by the time we leave this trip, with how they buckle every time Owen flashes me his slow, sexy smile.
Shit.
He looks unbelievable tonight.
A dark shirt clings to his shoulders and chest, the sleeves shoved up his corded forearms. His hair is still tousled and messy from the salt water, causing my hands to ache with the need to run my fingers through it.
His skin is sun-kissed, deepening into a golden tan that makes his green eyes look like shiny emeralds.
I still have no idea how I’m even here right now—at a tropical resort that resembles a White Lotus location, in the middle of paradise with my co-worker turned friend, whom I’ve secretly been obsessed with for years.
I would say ‘pinch me’ but I don’t want to wake up from this dream. Not right now. Not when Owen looks like he just stepped straight out of a vacation rom-com, the kind where girls at home are glued to their screens, already imagining him as their make-believe boyfriend.
And yet, he’s walking toward me .
I glance down at my tiny black dress—the one I swore I wasn't going to wear but packed just in case—and laugh under my breath at my bare legs and strappy heels.
Who the hell are you today, Meadow?
I don’t dance like this. I don’t dress like this.
But you know what? I’m kind of loving this version of me. I should be her more often.
My heart drops for a split second when the crowd shifts and swallows Owen. But when I see him reappear—closer now—my heart jumps back into place, beating solely for him.
The overhead lights flash blue, then pink, then green, flickering across his face as he approaches. Sweat beads at the base of his throat from the humidity of the island and the heat of the club. My mouth waters as I watch his shirt stretch across his chest with every step he takes.
I don’t think it’s possible to ever get tired of staring at him.
It’s euphoric to feel this way about another human. To feel like you’re seeing them for the very first time every time you lay eyes on them.
When Owen finally reaches me, he presses the cold cup into my hand and leans in.
“Hydrate,” he mutters in my ear, voice low enough to give me an orgasm on the spot.
I shiver internally as his hot breath blows against my skin.
“Yes, sir,” I joke before gulping down half of it.
Never has plain water tasted so divine in my entire life. I feel Owen’s eyes as he watches me with a hungry gaze that makes me think he wishes he were the water sliding down my throat.
“You good?” he asks, eyes never leaving my face.
“Yeah.” I nod casually. “I’m totally fine.”
“You sure?” He chuckles. “You looked like you were about to pass out earlier.”
I furrow my brows. “I was not.”
“Yes, you were,” he doubles down. “You were swaying like a damn palm tree.”
“That’s called dancing, Owen.”
He arches a brow.
“With your eyes closed?” he teases. “No. That’s called vertical napping.”
“Whatever,” I roll my eyes, my laugh getting drowned out by Electric Feel by MGMT blaring through the speakers.
I forgot how much I love this song.
Before I can object, Owen takes my empty cup and sets it aside with his own onto a nearby ledge. When he turns back to me and steps into my little bubble, my heart lunges forward like it’s trying to meet him halfway, my body desperate for him to touch me.
“Dance with me,” he requests, his voice deep and gravelly.
All I can do is nod, suddenly incapable of forming words.
His fingers find my waist as he spins me around, pulling me with him onto the packed dancefloor.
My arms instinctively wrap around his neck as we’re sucked into the belly of the crowd. His strong arms slide around my waist, pulling me flush to his chest. His body is warm and solid against mine, anchoring me in a sea of chaos.
There are sticky bodies surrounding every inch of us. There’s loud music overpowering every other sound in the room. There’s the overwhelming scent of perfume and sweat and sunscreen.
But still, all I see is Owen. All I feel is him. In this moment, he’s the center of my world. And because I’m sick, I let myself pretend that I’m the center of his.
At first, we drift back and forth, laughing when some drunk couple bumps into us.
But seconds later, the mood shifts as the lights dim to a deep, sultry blue. Time starts to move in slow motion as the air grows thick, making it difficult to swallow.
The music is still roaring around us as more vacationers squeeze onto the dance floor like sardines, dancing in sync to the rhythmic flashing of strobe lights. All the distractions fade away into muffled background noise as Owen and I intently stare at each other.
Owen’s gaze rakes over my face like he’s trying to memorize every line. He tracks the loose, sweaty strands of hair sticking to my skin before lowering his eyes to my neck. I wonder if he can see how hard my pulse is beating for him.
His jaw tightens as if he's fighting the urge to kiss me there. I can't help but feel like he’s losing the fight.
Just like me.
My breath hitches when his thumbs caress my hips, pressing into the thin silk of my dress. The touch is faint and light, but God, it sets every nerve ending in my body alive. Heat blooms low in my stomach, spreading everywhere all at once.
I swallow hard, trying to push down a sigh as his thumbs keep tracing slow circles against my hips.
He pulls me closer, tightening his arms around me until there’s absolutely no space left between us. My arms slide higher around his neck, holding him close as we move together like water. Cool air hits the back of my thighs as my dress rides up with every sway.
Owen must notice, removing one hand from my hips and slowly drifting it lower. I almost die when his fingertips graze along my upper thigh like he’s testing a dangerous boundary.
When he dips his head, I swear he’s going to kiss me. But instead, his lips find the shell of my ear.
Ugh.
I’m so tired of this cat-and-mouse game.
Just kiss me already.
“You having fun?” he asks, lips feathering against my skin.
“Yeah,” I nod, completely breathless. “Yeah, I am.”
His hands gently squeeze my hips in response.
“Me too,” he rasps before dipping his head to look into my eyes, his forehead almost touching mine.
“Today’s been one of the best days I’ve had in a long time,” he admits.
Today’s been the best day of my entire life, I think to myself.
My fingers curl into his shirt as I feel my cheeks heat.
“Yeah,” I whisper, a small laugh slipping out. “Me too. I’ve felt... different today.”
“Different how?”
“I don’t know…” I shrug. “Braver. Carefree. Like I stopped overthinking everything for once and just let myself relax.”
A devastating, handsome grin curves his lips.
My lashes flutter as he cups the side of my face with one hand and grazes his thumb along my jaw.
“I’ve noticed,” he says. “I love serious Meadow, but I’m glad I got to see this side of you today, too.”
I love serious Meadow.
Love.
Of course, my brain attaches itself to that one word. I know Owen doesn't mean it like that , but he should know better than to use that word around me. Because I think my foolish heart might seriously love him.
“Since we’re not overthinking everything tonight…” he rasps, thumb still moving back and forth against my cheek, “there’s something I’ve been dying to do all day.”
My heart stops.
Holy. Shit.
Is it finally about to happen?
Is Owen Brooks about to kiss me ?
“There is?”
His eyes drop to my mouth like they’re about to be his favorite meal.
“Yeah,” he replies, his tone husky. “It’s fucking killing me.”
I clench my thighs together as my core swirls with need.