Chapter 6 #2
I've rarely seen this side of Owen. Even as he trudged his way through high school and college academics, his glass-half-full attitude was always present.
My playful, hopeful Owen. But over the course of only a few days, that normal brightness has dimmed.
The Atlanta Hammer management officially pulled back their interest, and Owen is out for an entire season.
Something that has never happened in his baseball career.
I may not be a professional baseball player myself, but after ten years of cheering Owen on as he’s chased this dream, I refuse to let him give up now.
I’d like him to list the lies he’s told himself—about where he’ll go from here—just so that I can stomp on every single one, reminding him of the fortitude and hopefulness he’s exuded for all the years I’ve known him.
Even if it means reminding him every day, I want to help him get back to where he needs to be, mentally and physically.
“You will play again, Owen Jones. I won’t have you thinking otherwise. And I’m certainly not going to let a TV show even possibly get in the way of your recovery. Your future is too important.”
“And what about your future, Brooke?” He pulls my hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles before releasing my hand to rest between us.
“How long are you going to put everyone else, your clients, your mom… me… before yourself? Think of what you could do with that money? Pay off your debt. Maybe start your own salon? Go back to school…?”
A wave of guilt rushes over me, bringing a flush of heat to my neck and making me grateful for the single lamp emitting a low light from the kitchen counter, hoping Owen doesn’t notice.
He has no idea that I’ve wondered what it would be like to leave Honey Hill.
Dreaming of what kind of life I could forge for myself away from the small-town gossip and the reminder that though I’ve lived here for some time now, I’ve never quite felt like I’ll ever belong.
My entire purpose for signing up for Suite Hearts, on a whim, was the idyllic dream of starting over somewhere new with the cash prize in hand, knowing eventually when his baseball career took off—and I’ve never doubted it would—Owen would leave Honey Hill, too, then I’d truly have nothing left to keep me here.
“Come on.” His bottom lip pouts before Owen flashes his lashes at me a couple of times. “You and Aiden were gonna do it… I mean…” He clears his throat, and I can’t hold back my laugh.
“Yes?”
“You were going to marry Wolverine, and I know for a fact you like me better.”
“Well, aren’t we awfully sure of ourselves tonight?”
His eyes close again as he tilts his head on the seatback. I’m losing him minute by minute. “He wasn’t the man you were kissing tonight, Babe. So, yeah, I’m pretty confident you like me better.”
He opens his arm for me to come closer, and I slide underneath, pulling my feet out from under him and stretching them to the side. “I like you best.”
“Which is why this makes sense.” Owen kisses the crown of my head.
From where I’m quite cozily resting in the crook of his arm, I can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest beginning to slow.
It’s a perfect, rhythmic movement, hypnotizing my own breaths to meet his.
“If you were cool with marrying Aiden, who you admittedly think is a sissy man with long nails and the personality of wet cardboard—”
“Owen—” I roll my eyes.
“If you could do this with him, you absolutely should with me. Let me take care of you for a while, Brooke. It’ll be fun.”
“But you want… more…” I can’t even bring myself to finish the sentence.
He wants a life. A family. Forever with someone.
Someone that isn’t me. Owen wants a marriage, and he should get everything he wants.
I don’t want to cheapen something I know he holds with such value, even if the idea of whoever that mystery woman will be fills me with dread.
“We can’t get married only to end things, right? ”
He shrugs slightly, and his breaths grow heavier. “We’ll figure it all out. We always do. When does the show start?”
“Two weeks.”
“And it shoots for?”
“Eight. If we’re lucky.”
I don’t have to even look at him to see the grin I can hear in his voice. “No luck needed, Babe. We’re gonna win.”
I know Owen, and that confidence in his voice tells me he isn’t gonna budge on this. And if I’m honest with myself, there’s a very real part of me that wants it to be him. The idea that I would have trusted anyone else with this is comical.
“We’ll split the prize 50/50.” I give in. “We’ll make a plan, and you’re going to do all of your physical therapy. No excuses.”
“Fine,” he groans softly.
“And we need ground rules.” I scootch closer, letting my eyes drift closed too.
“Like?” He sighs, letting his thumb swipe slowly, back and forth, where I’m wedged under his arm.
“No more kissing.”
“Eight weeks is a long time not to kiss my wife, Brookey. I doubt I’ll make it.”
I nudge him gently in the side. “Rules, Owen. We have to have rules if this is gonna work.”
“Rules. Sure.” He hums his agreement and slurs, “And… we have to promise to be honeesst.”
“Yeah, Babe. Always honest.”
“And snuggling. Is thiiis okay?” He curls his arm around me tighter, cocooning me into the warmth and safety that’s uniquely Owen.
“We aren’t married yet, so I’ll allow it.”
“Yet…” He sighs. “So, you’re gonna ma…ma…marry me?”
I can’t believe I’m considering this crazy plan. Maybe having a definitive end date will make it all more bearable, allowing us to protect our friendship and the boundaries we’ve established for so long. We’ll figure out the details, like Owen said. We always do.
Probably tomorrow. When we’re fresh and alert, and I’m not busy forgetting about my favorite sheets in favor of the current covering of warmth surrounding me.
I can do this. We can do this. Because with Owen, I know I’ll be safe.
The more settled I get into this couch, the more the idea settles in my mind.
I just can’t think about what will happen if we actually win and where I’ll go from there.
I think I mumble something about how insane this is, but then find myself saying a simple, “Good Night, O,” before fully resting my head against his firm chest.
And he whispers, as we both start to drift, “Night, Babe. I promise I won’t leave.”