Page 108 of Owen Bailey Needs Advice

Three weeks pass and Owen writes me three more letters. We go on three more dates. My best friend is a saint. Each date ends the same exact way, with a myriad of confusing feelings and a thousand kisses. And yet, Owen keeps his hands respectable and his lips above my neck. My reproductive system may disagree, but I appreciate it.

I pull in a deep breath and do something I never, in my twenty-four years of life and fifteen years of knowing Levi Bailey, thought I would do. I open the door to Levi’s bike shop—here to purposely speak to the man.

To his credit, he doesn’t cringe when he sees me walk through the door. But then—he doesn’t smile either.

“Hey, Levi,” I say, feeling much less angsty than usual. Normally, Levi produces an irritable emotion inside of me—one that says,leave no survivors.

“Annie.” His eyes turn to slits. “You need a bike? I’m not sure those shoes are conducive to riding.”

I glance down at my four-inch heels and shove one hand into my denim pants pocket. “Uhh—no. No bike. Just afriendlychat.”

“Friendly? I didn’t think that was in your vocabulary.”

I swallow and bite back the comeback on the tip of my tongue. “Levi, I know we haven’t always gotten along.”

His brows raise, and I get the feeling he’s holding back too. It’s pretty natural for both of us to want to rip the other’s head off.

But when he doesn’t verbally attack me, I keep going. “But I’m here for a truce.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes.” I swallow and lift my eyes to meet his. “I don’t think I would have liked me very much either had I thought Owen was always changing who he was for me.” I shake my head, wondering if anything I’ve said makes sense. “I mean, if I were you, thinking about me. But I am me, and I didn’t know what Owen was doing. So—”

“Annie,” he says, walking out from behind the checkout counter. “Before you confuse us both, let’s just call it good.”

“Good?”

“Yeah. Owen told me how mad you were when he fessed up. He’s an idiot.”

“Such an idiot,” I agree. And strangely, it feels really great to agree with Levi. “My opinion of Owen isn’t based on the way he eats French fries—”

“Because that whole theory is ludicrous,” he says, interrupting me.

But we’re here to make amends, so I ignore his insult and keep going. “Or that he doesn’t like the same team as me.”

“Because the Cowboys suck.”

“Hey!” I bark, all thoughts of a truce lost. “The Bengals suck.”

But Levi only shrugs. Apparently, Owen and Levi do not share the same team either.

“Okay… well, whoever you cheer for, they suck.”

Levi smirks. “I actually don’t mind the Cowboys.”

The ranting inside of my body pauses. “Wait. Really?”

“No. They suck.” Levi laughs, and it sounds strangely natural. “But I do appreciate your passion.” He folds his arms over his chest and leans his back against the counter. “Listen, Annie. I don’t dislike you. I never have. I just always hated Owen feeling like he had to change himself for someone—anyone. But apparently, you dislike that idea as well.”

My fire fizzles. “I do. I really do.”

“And you like my brother.”

I love his brother. The thought slams into me like a sledgehammer—I have said and thought those words a million times. I love Owen. But in this second, for the very first time, they hold a different meaning.

Because dang it all—IloveOwen.

Like,lovelove.

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