Chapter 3 Owen
Ithink I’m fucked in the head.
For three days, I’ve been posted up by my front door, looking out the tiny window, waiting for a certain brunette that has curvy hips and eyes so blue it’s like I’m lost in the clouds and never want to come down.
It’s become an addiction. The way her face goes carefully blank when she catches sight of me in the doorway.
The barbs we let fly like arrows. How fucking fantastic her ass looks in the leggings she seems to favor.
I’m just a fiend, always looking for my next hit.
The guys said that’s pretty much the definition of a creeper, but I ignored them.
The sound of her flip flops clapping up the steps is music to my ears, making my heart pound out a rhythm in my chest. I slip out of the partially open door and nonchalantly lean against the jamb with my arms crossed over my chest. The second I catch sight of her, my dick tries to rise up to greet her, but I’m prepared this time.
Extra-tight compression underwear, cuz we don’t need to be giving away our secrets.
Her long brown hair is down in loose waves, floating around her bare shoulders.
The small rose-gold hoop in her nose glints off a sliver of sunshine peeking through the trees above, and for some reason, that small piece of metal sparks a need inside me so fierce that I damn near forget I’m supposed to hate her.
When those pale eyes of hers catch sight of me, they turn almost glacial.
“Well, hey there, bitch tits. You still pretending you hate me?”
“Awww, asshat, you know I’ve never had to pretend.”
My smirk is damn near feral. “No? Because I remember one particular night where you seemed to like me quite a lot.”
The smile that lights up her face is wicked. “Hmmm… The little fun-size in your pants was an experience, that’s for sure.”
This back-and-forth banter just turns me on more each time. I have to hold back the part of me that wants to push her up against the wall and give her a new experience to rival the first one and prove I’ve gained some tricks since then. Sadly for my dick, I have a modicum of self-control.
“It sure as hell didn’t look fun-sized when it was filling your untouched pussy for the first time.”
The moment the words are out of my mouth, I know they were the wrong thing to say. Her expression shutters, and she steels her spine. I want to hit myself upside the head for being such a stupendous fucking idiot.
She growls. “I fucking hate—”
“Annika?”The male voice interrupts, and when I turn to the stairs, there’s some douche canoe wearing a tailored black jacket and pressed black slacks, his matching dress shirt unbuttoned to show off a completely smooth chest. His shoes are so shiny I can damn near see my reflection in them.
With his blond hair artfully falling across his forehead and a jaw that’s probably never seen a hint of stubble, he looks like the kind of pompous asshole who would have a private driver and a butler catering to his every wish.
His eyes cut to me, quickly sizing me up and dismissing me.
“Conversing with the locals, babe? They are quite an interesting bunch.”
“Frederick? What are you doing here?”
He’s damn near leering at Nik, and I watch the disgust building up on his face as his eyes trail over her luscious body.
“Why are you wearing rags, darling? Did the airline lose your luggage?”
Rags? Those worn jean shorts show off miles of tanned legs, and her cropped tank reveals more of that smooth skin I want to get my hands on again. She looks fucking spectacular.
“These aren’t rags, Frederick. They’re casual summer clothes.”
There’s a tone to her voice that’s new—one that says while she hates me, she hates him even more. This might work in my favor.
“Well, lucky for you, I brought a bag of some of the items you left behind in our apartment. Thought you might like to change before we head to the airport.”
Long lashes bat once, twice, three times. My head is darting back and forth, trying to gauge what the actual fuck is happening right now because I thought she was home for good.
“Airport? What the hell are you talking about?”
“I came to collect you. To bring you back to Milan, where you belong, with me.”
There’s an edge to his tone I definitely don’t like. My eyes swing to Nik, noting the flared nostrils and the pink flooding her neck and cheeks. I’ve only seen this level of nuclear anger once—the day after the fight—and that was one time too many for me.
“Come to collect me? What? Like I’m some sort of possession or prize to be claimed?”
“My most prized possession, darling. You know that.”
Oh hell. The poor schmuck is in for it now.
“I’m not your anything anymore, Frederick. I made myself perfectly clear on that fact.”
The muscles in his jaw bunch, and his hands fist at his side. I have no doubt Nik can handle just about anything on her own, but something about his posture and the shift in his expression has all of my gentlemanly senses tingling.
He takes a small step forward, his voice dropping to a low, gravel-filled warning. “You are mine, Nik, no one else’s, and you’re coming home with me right now.”
His words spark unexpected fury in my chest, but before I can get my brain to catch up and do something about it, Nik’s small hand slips around my waist, her head shifting to rest on my shoulder.
Unsure what to say or what the fuck to do with my hands, I freeze.
Plenty of shit I’d like to do on both counts, but no way am I fucking up whatever the hell is happening right now.
She’s voluntarily touching me. It’s my every wet dream come true.
“Sorry, Frederick. I’m with Owen. I moved back to be with him.”
Ol' boy's face turns an alarming shade of red as her words ricochet through my skull.
“You left me for this…” he reluctantly turns to assess me once more, still finding me lacking if the sneer on his face is any indication, “piece of trash who wouldn’t know escargot from caviar?”
I open my mouth to prove him wrong, but Nik pinches my side…hard.
“What does that even matter since I’m allergic to both? A fact you could never remember despite spending almost three years with me.”
Straightening, he shoots me a glare that would probably shrivel most of the uppity men in his social circle, but it does shit all to me.
It’s at this moment my brain finally kicks into full gear.
I’ve literally got the answer to all of my prayers in my arms right now, and I’ll be damned if I’m not gonna take full advantage of this opportunity.
Glancing down at Annika, I grip her chin with my thumb and pointer finger, angling her head up just enough to brush my lips against her forehead. Just like before, her breath catches, but she doesn’t slap me, so I consider this a win.
“Come on, love bug. Let’s ditch the suit. We can order takeout and cuddle on the couch while we watch trashy television.”
Her eyes flutter open, big seas of blue staring at me with a look I’ve only managed to witness once in my lifetime. The night I both acquired and lost the only thing I’ve ever really wanted.
Her silence is interrupted by Mr. Stick-Up-His-Ass. “Annika, I’m not sure what the hell is going on, but you aren’t going anywhere but with me to my private plane.”
Her eyes never leave mine as she says, “I told you. I’m right where I belong. Goodbye, Frederick.”
“Annika, I swear to God—”
“What do you say, baby cakes? Do you want burgers or pasta tonight?” Ignoring him, she grabs my hand and leads me toward my apartment.
“Whatever sounds good to you, my little love bug.”
Really enjoying this new turn of events, I decide to lean into it a little more.
Turning, I grab her by the hips and pin her up against my doorjamb.
The smile on my face grows wicked when I hear her harsh intake of breath as I lean in and trail my lips along her jaw and all the way up to her ear. Her fingers fist in my t-shirt.
“Just remember you started this game, baby.”
Then I do the one thing I’ve been dying to do since I saw her talking to herself about ghosts.
I kiss her soft lips, noting the way her body stiffens slightly, then slowly goes lax in my grip.
I’m not even sure she’s aware of it when she tugs me closer, forcing our bodies to line up in a way that’s both familiar and different at the same time.
I forget we have an audience. Forget this isn’t real.
Until the asshat spoils this moment that’s years in the making.
My forehead drops to hers as anger floods through me because I’m not sure if I’ll ever get a chance like this again.
“So you want this peasant over me—a literal heir to a fortune? I highly doubt it. You’re just going through a slumming phase.
It won’t last, and when you’re ready to come back, I’ll be here waiting, Annika.
And you will come back. Once a woman has a taste of the finer things in life, the trash is always discarded. ”
The sound of his shoes stomping back down the stairs is impossible to ignore, but neither of us moves—not even when there’s what sounds distinctly like a garbage can tipping over, followed by a loud squeal and muffled cursing. I owe Hemingway a premium snack for scaring the dick weasel.
“He’s gone,” she whispers.
“Mmmhmm.”
“You can let me go now.”
“What if he comes back?” I know I’m grasping at straws, but I can’t help it.
“Owen—”
“That’s the first time you’ve called me by my first name since freshman year.”
“Because after that, the Owen I knew ceased to exist.”
Her quiet admission cracks my heart in two. “Nik, I—”
She slips out of my hold and straightens her tank top, refusing to meet my eyes. “I’m sorry I forced that on you, but thank you for playing along.”
“Nik, wait.”
She hurries to her door and rushes inside.
It slams behind her, but my mind is stuck on the fact that it wasn’t locked.
Sure, this is Cedar Vale, but now that I know her slimy ex is lingering around, I’ll have to talk to her about safety.
If she won’t listen, I’ll be forced to talk to her dickhead brother.
The one who ruined everything yet somehow manages to glower in my direction whenever we cross paths like it was all my fault.
Maybe I should go find Roscoe and Carson. I need to work off some of this frustration, and they’re always down for some gym time. They’re also the only other ones who know what truly went down back in high school. How we were making a plan for our future before it all went up in flames.
Staring at the door across the small landing from mine, I swear to whatever god is listening that if they just give me one chance, I’ll redeem myself.
I was a dumbass whose pride got the better of him back then, but now I know just what I lost, and I’m not willing to let her get away again.
If being her fake boyfriend gives me the chance to show her just how real this can be? So be it.