Page 80 of Owen Bailey Needs Advice

I cup her cheek and breathe in the orange blossoms. “Annie,” I say, my eyes dropping to her lips. “The future and the past aren’t one. You can make sure of that.”

“But what if I can’t?” she asks, and her eyes find my lips too. I see it. I feel it.

I lean a little closer, giving her every opportunity to push me away, to tell me no. But she doesn’t. Annie Archer is a smart girl. She knows what’s about to happen, and she doesn’t push me back.

Her breath warms my lips and fuels my beating heart. Mylips meet her lips, and for as long as we’ve known one another, this is an entirely new introduction.

Annie tips her head, her hands at my waist, and I pull her closer. My forefinger strokes the soft skin at her neck and she melts into me, her mouth parting. Annie tastes so much sweeter than I’ve ever imagined. And I’ve spent a lot of time imagining.

This is not a one-sided kiss. No, this kiss tells me that she’s wondered too.

She pulls back for air, and as much as I want to, don’t return for more. I’ve been a dying man in the desert all these years, and I’ve just reached my saving oasis.

I press my forehead to hers, my thumb tracing her right cheekbone. “I promise you,” I tell her, “I’m not going anywhere. Even if you decide you don’t want me, not like this, I’ll still be your best friend, Annie. I’m not that easy to get rid of.”

39

Annie

Itype out answers to questions that I’ve spent two days studying. Questions about husbands forgetting anniversaries. Questions about teenagers who refuse to talk to their parents. And questions about what I’m going to do about Owen—as if there’s a textbook for those, as if it’s any of these people’s business. I tell them all to wait for my next article. Because Margo is insisting on it. And Owen, well, Owen insists that our friendship is indestructible. Not even my train wreck history with men can kill what we have.

A text from my sister comes through, and while I’d love to ignore it… I know she’ll just keep right on messaging if I don’t give her some attention.

I haven’t told her about that kiss. I should. I will. But she’ll read into it. And I’m still trying to figure it out myself.

I bite my lip, which only makes me remember the sensation of Owen’s lips on mine. I have never in my twenty-four years of life been kissed like that before. Owen’s kiss was cherishing and devastating all at once. A lifetime of love and vulnerability bloomed in that beautiful, brief kiss.

I glance down at my phone and open Kayla’s text.

Kayla:So, are you going to go out with him?

“Yes,” I say aloud—to no one. I am. Because that’s what Margo wants. And because that’s what Owen wants. And if I’m being completely honest, because that was one killer kiss. I swallow, years of fear and skepticism filling up my insides.

Me:Owen has promised that when things go south, he’ll still be my best friend.

Kayla:Maybe things won’t go south. Did you ever think of that? Maybe you are North Pole-bound.

Me:History tends to repeat itself.

I turn back to my keyboard when another text comes through.

Kayla:Are you going to try?

Heat rises in my cheeks and, rather than text her back, I hit call—but not just any call. I am FaceTiming her so she can say that to my face.

Kayla’s hair is pulled back in a ponytail and she’s make-up-free. The boys are at school, so the house is eerily quiet.

“So?” she says, looking me right in the face and apparently having zero qualms about accusing me of not trying.

“You think I won’t try?”

“I think you’re scared. I think you’re haunted.” To my sister’s credit, she doesn’t say Maddox’s name. “And I think that when it comes to falling in love, you are full of great advice. Forothers. You’re all talk, Annie. Where’s your action?”

“Hey.” I moan. “I got plenty of action the other night!” I clamp my mouth closed, slapping my hand over top of my big mouth.Whoops.

“Excuse me? Are you saying something happened—already? Between you and Owen?”

“If you must know—” I say.

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