Page 56 of The Thought of You

“It’s beyond complicated, and I don’t do complicated. I can’t like him,” I assert, but it doesn’t come out as strongly as I intend. I lose my nerve halfway through, as I did the time I explained to my mother why I started dance lessons.

I told her it was because my father’s new wife basically made me, but it was a lie. I started lessons in part because I simply wanted to, but also because I knew my mother would hate it.

And I eventually had to come clean, especially after she called my father in an outrage over how his new bimbo was treating me. What a fun ordeal that was for me—not.

But here I am, lying again, as if I didn’t learn my lesson back then.

“What does Owen think about the kiss?” Maren asks, flipping her switch from amused to “let’s get down to business.”

“You leave me no choice but to show you how perfect we could be together.”

Owen made a promise to win a challenge I never introduced.

And yet, the second he voiced his acceptance, I had to squeeze my freaking thighs together. My entire lower body clenched as if attached to the end of a string only he controlled.

The truth is, he does something to me. He makes me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time, if ever. Kissing him made me realize I might not have felt true arousal in my boring adult life.

“What does Owen think about our kiss?” I repeat the question in rhetorical fashion. “Let’s just say, if he’s being honest, it’s not something he’ll be forgetting anytime soon.” I chew on the inside of my cheek, a burst of undeniable excitement sizzling through my lower stomach. “And I can’t confidently say I’ll be forgetting about it, either.”

chapter

seventeen

OWEN

“How bad was the storm for you? Mom said her azaleas are completely wrecked.” Whitney’s voice sounds through my phone speaker as I pull up to the school. Huck makes noises in the background like he’s playing. “You okay?”

“I’m great, actually,” I chirp as I ease into my parking spot. “The storm did me a favor, to be honest.”

“How so?”

“It opened a door, and I ran through it.” I smirk as I find Addie walking into the school, her large tote bag in place as it is every morning.

“Super cryptic of you,” she mumbles, and Huck’s little oohs and aahs interrupt like he’s trying to join the conversation.

“I’ll tell you more at family dinner tomorrow night. You and Huck will be there, won’t you? No poetry slam or class happy hour or arts and crafts with your neighbors or whatever the hell you’ve been up to this week, right?”

“Your imagination has no bounds, does it? As if I have the energy for anything more than half a cup of coffee.” She coos, presumably for Huck’s benefit.

Even though she can’t see me, I grin. “I thought we agreed to live a little, sis.”

“And I tried last weekend. I had a date set up and everything with a guy from my psychology class, but Huck came down with a fever. Instead of enjoying a meal by the river and making googly eyes over our forks, I was racked with pure terror from head to toe as I raced Huck to the ER, where of course, they said I was overreacting.”

“I assure you, you weren’t.”

“Thank you, but in hindsight, I definitely was.” Her sigh mixes with a soft laugh.

“He’s okay, though?”

“Perfect.” She hums. It’s the tune she usually hums when she rocks him, and I imagine her doing just that in the middle of her bedroom, Huck tucked into her arms.

I check the time. “I need to get going, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Once we end the call, I climb out of my truck and head inside, my muscles aching with each step. Yesterday’s leg workout was nothing short of brutal, and I’m feeling it tenfold this morning, especially in my right knee.

At the door to the gym, I shake my right leg to the side in hopes of loosening it up, and I accidentally kick someone.

“What the hell?”

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