Page 5 of Easy To Lose

“Yeah, well, not everything you hear is the truth.” His eyebrows rise in question, and I turn back around, hoping to make myself busy so he’ll get the hint and leave so I can catch my breath.

“So, do you need any help getting this thing back up?” He indicates the shelf, and I inwardly groan at the fact that he didn’t get the hint I so delicately placed in front of him, instead choosing to crowd my space, making it harder and harder for me to remember why I hate him so much.

Before I have a chance to tell him I have it covered, Becca comes in and smiles. I hired Becca once I knew this job was one hundred percent happening. Thank God, because she’s saved me countless times over the past few weeks as I moved down the coast. She’s quickly becoming my right-hand woman, and I love that I found her when I did.

“Well, hello there, handsome. What can I do for you?” Owen gives her his trademark smile that always got him whatever and whomever he wanted back in high school, and points to the rack.

“Just heard this thing fall, wanted to make sure everyone was okay.” Becca practically sighs, and I swear I can see the heart emojis coming out of her eyes as she takes him in.

“Well, aren’t you the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen?” Her Southern accent comes out stronger the longer they speak. If I didn’t know better, I would think the heavy feeling growing in my stomach was jealousy, but that can’t be right. Owen is nothing to me now.

“I was just asking Morgan if she needs any help putting it back on the wall. It looks like you need some anchors to make sure it doesn’t fall again.” I roll my eyes because, of course, he knows how to fix things. Add that to the list of traits I wish I didn’t know; those that make him even hotter than he already is.

“That’s so sweet of you!” Becca says, walking over to the wall and showing him where it needs to go.

“Okay, let me go to my truck. I’m pretty sure I have some anchors in my toolbox that we can use. If not, I’ll just go to John’s Hardware down the street and pick some up for you.” Owen’s eyes catch mine, as Becca continues talking about how sweet he is. But I hear none of it. All I can concentrate on are his lips and the fact that I’ve fantasized about them for over ten years. And his eyes, that haven’t left mine the entire time he’s been talking to Becca. Once Owen leaves to get the supplies from his truck, Becca comes running over behind the counter and leans against the glass beside me.

“Holy. Shit. That boy is all muscle and good looks.” She fans herself as if she’s some damsel waiting for her prince charming, and I chuckle. Becca has been a source of entertainment since I arrived. And honestly, I know working with her is going to be a blast, but if she ends up getting her hands on Owen, I don’t know how I’ll react.

“Don’t you think he’s hot?” The question catches me off guard, and I drop the shoes I’m holding to the floor.

“Sure, if you like that kind of thing,” I mutter, picking up the shoes and heading to the back room. Following me, Becca scoffs as if the idea of me not liking a tall, blond, muscled specimen is somehow against her religion. But the reality is, I do like that kind of thing. I really like that kind of thing. And right now, I’m reminding myself of the many reasons I can’t like that kind of thing.

“You ladies want to show me exactly where this needs to go?” Owen calls from the front as he comes back in. Becca gives me a hopeful look, as if I’ll give her permission to fawn over him, but I shake my head.

“You stay here and sort through these boxes. I need to know how much product we have before putting it out on the shelves.” She frowns but nods her head, then picks up the box cutter next to her feet.

“Fine. But if it turns out that we’re star-crossed lovers from another life, you’re gonna be sorry!” I roll my eyes as I walk out of the back just as Owen bends over to get his tools off the floor.

Damn.

I forgot how good his ass looks. And in those basketball shorts? I can see everything.

“Morgan?” Owen calls, jerking me out of my daydream.

“Yes?” I say. My voice cracks, and from the small lift in his lips, he knows exactly what I was doing. I immediately want to dig myself a hole and jump into it.

“You wanna show me where this goes?” He points to the shelf that’s still leaning against the wall. It really is a miracle that no one got hurt when it fell. It’s over six feet tall and could crush Becca or me easily.

“Yeah, sorry. It should go here…” I point to the spot where it was originally, hoping I don’t have to find another place for it.

“Do you mind if we move it a bit to the left? I don‘t want to use the same holes since that part of the wall is a bit damaged and will only cause more issues later.” I nod, not really trusting my voice. Owen pulls the shelf away from the wall, motioning for me to hold it upright as he marks the wall. It takes a beat, but after a minute, I can’t stand the silence anymore.

“So, what are you up to now?” I groan at the awkwardness that seems to flow out of me whenever I’m around him. This never happened with Aaron. I was always so comfortable around him. But maybe that was the problem.

“I own the gym next door.”

Of course, you do, I think as I watch him patch up the holes and take out a measuring tape from his toolbox.

“What do you mean, ‘of course, you do?’” Fuck, I said that out loud? Shit.

“Um, I just meant that you were always into working out in high school, so it just doesn’t surprise me that you own a fitness center.” He gives me a look that lets me know that he doesn’t believe a word that just came out of my mouth, but that he’ll let it slide. Thank God.

“How long have you been home?” he asks, his eyes catching mine before going back to where he’s drilling holes in the wall.

“A few days,” I mutter, hoping he doesn’t want more elaborate details of exactly why I came home.

“So, you’re working here now?” he asks, and I can’t help the small smile that creeps over my face when he’s not looking, the butterflies flying fast and free inside my stomach.

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