Page 85 of Puck Princess

Summer hangs up, but my head is still whirling.

I hurry to the door and slide the bolt into place.

When I turn around, the lilies that looked beautiful a second ago are suddenly ominous.

I don’t want it here. I don’t want Owen to know.

Without thinking, I grab them, vase and all, and shove them into the bottom of the trashcan. But I don’t want my fear to hurt Summer, so I stash the note in my purse and head back to bed.

Owen stirs as I lie down, pulling me against him. Half awake, he kisses me. “You alright?”

“Yeah.” I try to sound normal. Really, I’m about to cry. “Owen?”

“Mm?”

I nuzzle my head against his shoulder and squeeze my eyes closed. “I think we should move in together.”

28

OWEN

“You need to lift, Jameson. You know, like, use your muscles?” Lachlan says through gritted teeth as the three of us attempt to get my bachelor-coded L-shaped leather couch out of the apartment.

“I am lifting! It’s you that’s not holding up your end of the damn couch!” Heath shoots back.

“Guys,” I breathe out. “Can we just get it out of here before Lance and Kason come up with the new shit?”

“You heard the man,” Lachlan shouts. “Move!”

Meanwhile, the girls are all standing in the kitchen watching as we try to maneuver the couch I used to love and now hate out the door.

“It’s like watching three men try to fit the Goodyear Blimp into a Prius,” Kennedy jokes.

“More like watching Nicky try to fit a square peg into the round hole on his wooden puzzle toy.” Summer bites back a laugh.

“You know what I think?” Dax joins in. He is doing nothing but sitting on a barstool, drinking a beer, and dictating the whole thing. “Y’all need topivot.”

“And just like that, we have become America’s favorite sitcom.” Heath growls, trying not to drop his end.

“I think Dax is right,” Callie says.

“Et tu, Callie?” Heath pants.

She shrugs. “You need to turn it or you’re gonna get wedged.”

“How the fuck did you get this thing up here anyways?” Lachlan asks.

I actually can’t remember. I probably blacked out the memory.

With a little more heaving and swearing, we get the sectional into the hallway, which is apparently as far as we’re getting it for the moment. Lachlan and Heath collapse on top of it.

Callie brings me a water bottle and kisses my cheek. “Thank you.”

“This new couch you ordered better be comfortable,” I grumble.

“It’s velvet.”

I take a chug of water and arch a sweaty eyebrow. “Velvet? Good god woman, you are going to ruin me.”

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