Chapter 27

chapter

twenty-seven

ADDIE

I blink once, twice, three times until my eyelids are strong enough to stay open on their own. The sun poking through the blinds on the windows makes it difficult, though, as does the sinewy forearm draped over half my face.

Owen .

We fell asleep talking. We had a fierce debate over the episode of Shark Tank we turned on. As it turns out, he's a big fan too, and we spent over an hour betting each other on which Shark would make an offer.

Some time after that, I awoke with the moon high in the sky, and the world outside was quiet. The music from our neighbors had been silenced, and the surrounding guests seemed to have been tucked in for the night.

But I was wide awake, with one thing in mind—the thing rubbing against my ass as Owen spooned me from behind.

I couldn't sleep. I could barely breathe as heat flooded my core. My lower belly ached with lust for him.

And once again, he delivered.

His eyelids had lifted but remained at half-mast as he slid his hand onto my stomach and inside my panties.

It was electric—and loud. I was louder than when I hang upside down on a roller coaster.

Owen does that to me. He pushes all the right buttons in every sense, and he drives me crazy.

Next to me, he groans and flops onto his back. "Why are you awake?" he mumbles.

"You haven't opened your eyes. How do you know I'm awake?" I lift a brow, but he still doesn't look at me.

"I have many talents, as you experienced last night. Seeing through my eyelids is yet another skill I possess."

I squint, but he remains the same.

"I actually just took a wild guess." He pries one eye open and smiles a smile that reaches into my chest and tugs on my fragile heart. "I figured you'd be asleep until tomorrow. I wore you out pretty good."

I shift onto my side to face him, angling my body toward him like a flower rising toward the sun. "I'm in good shape."

"In that case…" He turns onto his side as well and trails his fingertips up and down my arm, leaving goose bumps in their wake. "Ready for round three? I shine in the mornings. Even before coffee, I'm damn good with my— shit ."

I release the hold on my lip I had with my teeth as he peers over my shoulder and frowns.

With a sigh, Owen raises up, his frame nearly too large for this queen-sized bed. In truth, he'd probably make a king-sized bed look small. "It's almost nine thirty. I need to head back, or Lottie will have my ass."

"She could always set up, and you can take down." I slide the covers away from my body until I'm completely exposed. I've never slept naked before, but I might need to make a habit of it. It's quite freeing—or it just feels life-changing with Owen naked beside me too. "We could see about that third round…"

His gaze travels down the length of me, his eyes darkening more and more with each inch he drinks in.

"I could show you just how flexible I really am."

Something equal parts appreciative and sinister flashes across his expression. "You little temptress."

He draws me in for a slow kiss, and as I sink into him—as I start to believe I've won—he jerks back. I'm left with my mouth hanging open and my heart racing as he practically jumps off the bed.

"I need to… go." He holds his hands up, his chest heaving like this measure of self-restraint sucks up all his energy.

As he rounds the corner of the bed, his mumbled words are muffled. I'm too distracted by the bulging muscles in his arms and legs. His quads flex as he bends down for his pants, and when he faces me, his long, turgid cock points right at me like it's begging for me.

Excess saliva suddenly coats my tongue.

But once he's fully dressed, it hits me that he's not coming back to bed. He's leaving.

Owen is going back home to Sapphire Creek, where everyone knows us—where we work together. He's going back to reality, and I have to join him soon.

The same ball of dread settles in the pit of my stomach as it had last night when he was dressed, except he's actually leaving this morning.

Blood rushing to my ears drowns out the voices from outside. It muffles my own heartbeat as I consider our options.

"We have to keep this a secret," I blurt and hug the covers up to my chest, hiding.

I'm a coward, aren't I? Or am I being smart? Before last night, I knew the difference. In fact, I knew a lot of things, but after the night he and I shared, I barely know which way is up.

Owen blanches.

"I know how that sounds." I clutch the covers, and sweat builds on my upper lip.

"It sounds like I'm your dirty little experiment after all." His powerful shoulders sag.

I shake my head and lean forward, keeping the covers in place as I interlock my fingers around my legs. "It's not like that—believe me."

"Then what is it?" He sits on the edge of the desk and crosses both arms over his chest. He's only a few feet away, but right now, as he studies me with defeat clouding his eyes, he feels eons away.

"It's us exploring whatever this is." I point between us. "Owen, before I toss an explosive into the center of my life, I'd like to see if we could even turn into anything serious. I don't know if we even like each other that much. Do you? I mean, you could find you hate how much I ramble. You could find you're too turned off by my labeled pantry, or the excessive collection of soap in my bathroom. What if it turns out that you don't hold a candle to my obsession with Skittles?"

"I get your point."

"We need a test drive."

"I'm not a car."

I tilt my head.

He pushes off the desk, paces in a single circle, and sighs. "You're right, not about being turned off by anything you do, but the sentiment is compelling."

My exhale purges my muscles of tension, and a small smile spreads. "So, you agree to keep this a secret for now?"

He spreads his arms. "Take me for a spin, baby. I promise, I'm a smooth ride."

My grin is full-fledged as I throw the covers off and meet him at the edge of the bed, where we collide in a mix of heated kisses.

His hands roam over my bare body, squeezing and kneading and caressing like he's paying tribute to it.

Skin sizzling, I fall back and bring him down with me, but again, he flies upright with a drawn-out groan. "I have to…" He touches his lips, and I bite the inside of my cheek. "I don't know. I have to go… somewhere. Someone… needs me." His sharp inhale echoes across the room.

"Right." I trace my lip with my fingertip as I complete my hundredth perusal of him since yesterday.

"What, um…" He scratches the back of his head. "When is your spa appointment?"

"My what?" I hum.

"Aren't you going to the spa?"

I jump from the bed. "Oh! Oh my gosh. It's at ten thirty."

"Do you know where you're going?" He smirks.

I stick my tongue out at him and toss back, "Somewhere with someone."

"How mature."

"Oh, Lord. Less than a day with you, and I'm already stooping to your level."

He takes measured steps until he reaches me, and placing his thumb under my chin, he tips my head back to peer into my eyes. "It's much more fun down here."

With that, he sears a kiss to my lips, then backs away. His hand curls around the doorknob to leave, and I reach out to stop him.

"For the record…" I start. As many books and homework assignments as I've read, and as much as I normally talk, I'm struggling with words at the moment. "I don't hate your hair. I actually like it."

"I know." Sparks of amusement bounce in his clear eyes. "It was obvious how much you like it by how hard you pulled on it last night."

My next breath catches in my throat.

"See you soon—in secret—Lockhart." With a parting wink, he slips through the door, and I'm left with only my racing thoughts once again.

My mouth still tingles long after the door clicks shut. I tingle all over from him, and I don't know how I'll survive keeping my emotions in check when it doesn't feel like he and I are new.

It doesn't seem like we only just crossed the line, starting last Saturday. With Owen, it's as if we've been doing this all along, and the realization both excites and terrifies me.

My buzzing phone on the desk pulls me out of my stupor, and I cross the two feet to check it.

OWEN

Seriously, what spa are you going to this morning?

The Pampered Peach. Why?

I wait for the bubbles to show up to indicate he's typing, but they don't appear.

Once I'm dressed, I check again, but there's still no new message from him. I see an unanswered text from DeDe asking me to cat-sit Birdie. It might be the first time in history that I haven't immediately responded to a message, especially one asking for a favor.

But I still don't answer. Instead, I tuck my phone into my tote, sling the bag over my shoulder, and grab my key card on the way out.

Five minutes later, I arrive at the spa, and the moment I step inside the lobby, my body falls slack. I'm overtaken by the heavenly smell of peaches and soft sounds of nature, like a breeze rustling leaves and birds chirping. The sweet smell and relaxing ambiance speak to my soul—and aching bones.

When was the last time I pampered myself? When have I ever dedicated a whole weekend to myself?

This might be the first time in my life when I've truly, selfishly, proudly indulged, in more ways than one.

I just wish I would've sprung for the whole package. At the very least, I should've added a massage with my facial, but baby steps. I'm new at this whole self-care thing.

"Good morning," the receptionist chirps. "How can I help you?"

"I have an appointment," I say as I slide toward the counter. "Addie Lockhart."

While she types on her computer, her flawless nails tick against the keys, filling the silence between us. "Ah, yes. You upgraded your package, correct?"

"Just a facial."

She taps some more, and her smile reaches her eyes as she says, "Your package now includes the works—facial, mani/pedi, and a hot stone massage. Already paid for."

"Paid for? There must be some kind of mistake." I fish my phone from my tote and pull up my banking app to confirm the purchase. With my lack of sleep this week, there is a solid chance I accidentally booked the wrong thing and paid in advance.

It sounds like something I'd do. Earlier this year, there was an incident where I found three boxes of wines and cheeses on my doorstep, only for me to realize I'd sleep-shopped. When more arrived the month afterward, I found out I'd even signed up for a membership.

"I don't think—" I'm cut off when a new message comes through.

OWEN

Enjoy a FULL relaxing day at the spa ;)

"He didn't," I mutter to myself, then glance up to the expectant receptionist, who's still smiling so wide her dimples nearly reach her ears. "I guess he did," I muse.

"Your man sounds like a keeper."

My heart flutters like the flapping wings of a thousand doves as I follow her through a door toward the lockers. I barely register her instructions for the waiting room, where I think I can I find cucumber water and snacks.

I float through the motions of undressing and tying a fluffy robe around my waist, my mind reeling with the idea of Owen Conrad being my man.