Page 97 of Owen Bailey Needs Advice

“I can’t,” I say, secretly thankful that Carol took the photo—that she didn’t ask to use mine or Owen’s phone. “It’s on Carol’s phone.”

“That’s ridiculous. How will you ever see it?” Kayla mumbles.

“I won’t. And that’s fine. It would only complicate things.”

“The man has a bullseye tattoo on his chest, Annie. You have surpassed complicated. Embrace it.”

I shake my head as I slip into my sweats. “I’m not sure I know how to embrace it. Besides, that tattoo doesn’t mean anything.” It’s a lie.

“It means everything. And you know it,” she says, refusing to be fooled. “Let go, girl. Let go of Maddox’s words. Let go of your own personal judgments. Let go and embrace.”

But those sound like very conflicting instructions.

47

Owen

My brothers get to watch the game while I am being grilled by my sister, my mother, my sort of sister-in-law, and a seven-year-old who knows waaaay too much.

“And then what?” Coco asks, waving me on.

“Then we went out to the bow of the boat.”

Meredith sighs. “Romantic.”

“It was.” I swallow, almost choking on the words.

Alice stands on a stool, propping herself up onto the kitchen counter so that she’s the same height as the rest of us. She will not be left out of this conversation. “Come on, man! Did you leave her with a smack-o-roo?” Dramatically, she brings her arms out wide, and then her hands whack just before she taps her fingertips together.

“A what?” My brows lower, trying to make sense of what she’s said.

“A kiss,” Coco explains. “She wants to know if you kissed her.”

“I think it’s a valid question,” Meredith says.

Momnods. “I agree.”

All four sets of eyes are on me, glued to my face like seventh graders watching a fight in the hallway. “Ah—” A breathy squeak leaves my throat.

“Hey, fam!” Coop says from the doorway. He smirks a little at the scene in front of him. “We just needed more chips out there. How’s Owen’s interrogation going?”

“We aren’t interrogating him,” Mom says.

“We’re helping,” Coco tells him.

“Take me with you,” I whisper to Coop as he slips past us, snagging another bag of Doritos from the cupboard.

My traitorous little brother just sneers and walks from the room, one hand stuffed into the Cool Ranch family-sized bag.

“Owen.” Coco moans, tugging on my shirt.

“I—” I clear my throat. “Maybe this is private.”

“Nothing is private, son.” Mom shakes her head. Not even my own mother will defend me. “Annie’s writing about it all for the world to read. So come on. How did that romantic boat ride end?”

“Without a kiss,” I say, just to stop all the gawking. Geez, do they have nothing else to do?

“Ahhh.” Alice jumps from the counter with a whiny moan, then takes off for the living room. Apparently, I did not give her an ending worth sticking around for.

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