Hating You, page 10
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Slytherin4ever: Night, Owen.
10
Saylor
“Don’t hate me, but I can’t make it to the meeting today,” Skye informs me, her face scrunching up in shame as we head to our cars in the parking lot on Thursday afternoon.
“Why not?” I demand.
“Because Sway needs me to check on her cats while she and Anthony are away.”
“Come on, Skye, we’ll do it after––”
“Nope. Their grumpy cat is on some medication that needs to be given at the same time each evening, or he’ll be in a lot of pain and will puke up his dinner. No one wants to clean up that mess, Say. Trust me.” Her nose wrinkles as if she’s smelled something rancid. “It’ll be fine, though. I’m sure lots of other volunteers signed up.”
“But what if”––my gaze darts over to Owen’s car parked a few stalls away from us––“he shows up.”
“Then he shows up, and you face him like a big girl.”
“But––”
“You’ll be fine, Say. Besides, it might be good for you two to connect in a way that doesn’t involve fake identities.”
With a scowl, I argue, “First of all, that was your idea. And second, you don’t understand. Owen and I were talking and….” My voice trails off as I toss my bag of to-be-graded assignments into the passenger side of my car.
“And what?” she prods.
I pop my head back out of the car, close the driver’s side door, and lean my butt against it. “And he said he’s going to make a move.”
“So?”
I glare back at her. “You’re kidding, right?”
“It’s been years, Say. And he seems genuine enough, doesn’t he? What if you give him another chance?”
“You can’t be serious right now. He broke my heart, Skye!”
“And he hates himself for it. He won’t even look at Sarah in her short skirts, and I have it on good authority that she’s asked him out multiple times, and he’s always deflected.”
“And what about Taylor?”
“Taylor backed off as soon as she found out he had a kid, which is kind of ironic since she’s a school teacher and all. But that’s beside the point.”
“And what is your point, Skye?” I huff.
“My point is that he wants you.”
“We don’t know that.”
“Yes, we do. You just said so yourself like thirty seconds ago,” she points out. “Aaand he’s been upfront about his expectations with Slytherin4ever too. Hasn’t he?”
“Well, yeah, but––”
“But nothing. I’m right. You’re wrong. The end.”
“You’re bugging me today,” I growl, but she waves me off.
“It’ll be fine. Besides, you’re just planning a Halloween party. It’s not that big of a deal. There will probably be other volunteers there too.”
“Probably isn’t a sure thing. No one has seen the volunteer sheet since the first day. Who knows where it ended up, and––”
“Stop stressing, or you’re gonna get an ulcer. You’ll be just fine, and I’ll see you at home. Deal?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Not unless you wanna clean up cat vomit,” Skye counters with a smirk.
I tap my chin with my forefinger, actually considering the idea before Skye shoves me in the shoulder.
“Come on, Say. You’re being ridiculous. Go. Have fun. Take notes. We’ll talk later.”
“Fiiine,” I grudgingly agree. “I’ll see you at home.”
Rounding the front of her car, she calls out, “Good girl. Thanks for walking me out. Just remember. You’re beautiful. Smart. And so far out of his league that it’s not even funny. You got this.”
Then she gives me two thumbs up before closing the door to her car, leaving me all alone in the parking lot as another knot of dread tugs at my lower gut.
This is juuust great.
I press the lock button on my key fob, then head back to my classroom. A few random scraps of paper from today’s art project are still lying on the floor, so I pick them up before pulling out a notepad at my desk. The ideas start flowing freely a few minutes later. I lose track of time until a deep voice calls out from the doorway.
“Hey.”
My mouth forms a tiny ‘o’ as I suck in as much oxygen as my lungs can hold before I tear my gaze away from my notes and find a very sexy, very sheepish Owen staring back at me. Why does he have to look so good in a pair of dark jeans and a Henley?
When I catch myself staring, I clear my throat and squeak, “Hey.”
“Mind if I join you?”
“Uh, take a seat.” I motion to the empty room.
The metal legs from one of the far chairs scrape along the floor as he drags it over to my desk, then sits down across from me.
“Are we waiting on anyone else?” he asks, taking in the empty room.
“No idea. The sign-up form went missing earlier this week, so….”
“Oh. That…sucks?” he offers.
I laugh. “I would’ve been surprised if anyone signed up. It’s not like we don’t already have plenty on our plates during the holidays without adding another party into the mix. It’s not even my job to plan this thing, but apparently, Artie wants to see how I handle it.”
“Artie?”
“Principal Wells,” I clarify. “He doesn’t like it when we call him by his first name. He insists it’s unprofessional.”
“Touché,” Owen smirks. “Do you wanna just dive right in or wait a few minutes to see if anyone else shows up? Just in case? I saw Skye’s name on the list––”
“She’s taking care of Sway’s cat,” I inform him, bristling at her obvious cop-out. I thought she was still on the man-hating bandwagon with me. But apparently, she’s returned to the dark side, though I have no idea why.
Little butt.
“Ah, Sway’s cat. Right. Is Toby still alive?”
My mouth curves up toward the ceiling before I pull my bottom lip into my mouth. “Yeah, good ol’ Toby is still alive, but apparently, this is one of her other cats that needs some extra lovin’.”
“Other cats?”
“She owns a cat sanctuary and fosters unwanted cats,” I explain while fiddling with my dark blue pen like it’s a toy.
“Seriously?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“That’s great, Say––Miss Swenson,” he corrects himself as a light pink reaches his stubbled cheeks.
How did he get even more attractive over the years? While I’ve been fighting eye wrinkles and a belly pooch, he’s been rocking the weight room and the beach, if his natural tan is anything to go by.
But it’s the blush that does me in. The hint of vulnerability and respect that makes a few of the bricks I’ve built around my heart sway back and forth a little harder with every moment we spend in the same room together. But I’m too weak to stop it.
My gaze flicks up toward the ceiling before returning to the adonis in front of me. “You can call me Say.”
His eyes widen. “You sure?”
“Yes. I’m sorry I jumped down your throat about it the first day. My behavior was completely uncalled for.”
“You have every right to still be pissed at me,” he rasps, shaking his head back and forth as if I’m not the only one lost in the memories of our pasts. “But I appreciate it. It feels weird to call you Miss Swenson. I feel like I’m talking to your mom or something.”
I laugh. “It sounds weird for me, too, when you say it, so I get that.”
“So, how’s she doing?”
“My mom? Uh, she’s good. She and my dad are just doing their thing like always, ya know?”
He nods. “That’s good. Skye already gave me the rundown of her life earlier this week, so I think I’m caught up on that front. And apparently, Sway owns a cat sanctuary, which is…exciting?”
I laugh. “Definitely exciting. There’s never a dull moment on that front.”
“And what about…everything else?” he prods, his thoughtfulness hitting me square in the chest.
“You mean with the whole infertility thing?” The memories from our conversation about our pasts, our regrets, and his little miracle filter through the back of my mind.
“Yeah,” he returns, his voice somber. He was there the day we found out she’d never be able to carry any of her own children. I’d bawled my eyes out, feeling guilty for having a good uterus when my little sister had to have hers removed. It wasn’t fair. He’d held me the entire time, rubbing his hand along my back while making promises he had no intention of keeping.
I clear my throat. “Shall we dive right in?”
“Sure thing.”
I spend the next couple of hours going over my ideas for the party. He chimes in every few minutes, offering an idea or a solution to a roadblock I’d found before helping me iron out all the details in record time.
With a sigh of exhaustion, I set my pen on the notepad and close it. “I think that’s it.”
“That’s everything?” he asks.
“Yeah. I think we’ve covered all of our bases.” Checking the time on the wall, my jaw drops, and I add, “Crap. I didn’t realize how late it’s getting. I’m sorry if I kept you too long from Grady.”
“No worries. He’s at a playdate with Turner and will be pissed when I pick him up, no matter how long I let them hang out tonight.”
“Really?” I stand up from my chair and grab my purse before rounding my desk.
Owen joins me on his feet, and we walk toward the exit as he explains. “Yeah. Mandy was generous enough to let them hang out at her house.”
“Mandy’s a great person,” I reply before flicking off the lights to my classroom, then closing the door behind us.
“Yeah, she seems nice.”
The halls are blanketed in an orange glow from the sunset outside as I search in my purse for the keys to the school Principal Wells had dropped off earlier today. When we reach the exit, I lock up and give Owen a tight smile.
“Thanks for helping today. I didn’t think we’d get that much taken care of. Especially since it was just the two of us.”
“Don’t mention it. I don’t suppose you’ve eaten dinner yet?”
I squeeze the strap of my giant purse a little tighter. “Uh, no. I guess I haven’t.”
“Do you want to grab some dinner together?”
My gaze drops to the ground, zeroing in on a pebble that skids across the black pavement as we make our way toward our cars.
Dinner. With Owen. My Owen. My heart pounds a little faster at the prospect.
“I, uh, I’m not sure that’d be a good idea,” I answer when I finally find my voice.
“Because you’re dating someone?”
“Because I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” I repeat, pushing the unlock button on my fob.
I gotta get out of here.
“So, you’re not dating anyone?”
“Owen….”
“Are you?”
I tug my purse a little higher onto my shoulder, then fold my arms. “No. I’m not dating anyone.”
With a nod, he guides me to the driver’s side door of my car, making the hinges squeak softly as he pulls it open for me like a gentleman.
“I had fun today,” he tells me.
“Me too.”
“I’ve missed hanging out with you.”
Licking my lips, I peek up at him but stay quiet, though my heart is screaming, me too, right back at him.
“I’m not going anywhere, Say,” he rumbles, the promise settling in all the right places.
I bite the inside of my cheek before replying, “That’s good. I’d hate for Principal Wells to have to find a replacement, and Grady’s a good kid. I’d miss him as a student in my class.”
“Is that the only thing you’d miss?”
My breath hitches as he carefully weaves his fingers under my purse and sets it in the passenger seat of my car. Just like he used to when we were in high school, when I’d complain that the teachers expected us to carry way too many textbooks.
I squeeze my eyes shut. “I learned to live without you a long time ago.”
“That’s funny, ‘cause I never learned how to live without you.” His tone is laced with a regret that makes my knees weak.
“I’m sure you got along just fine,” I tease in an attempt to lighten the mood, but it falls short.
“You have no idea.” He shakes his head before lifting it toward the sky that’s still painted in orange and purple, casting a comforting warmth on the crappy circumstances. With a deep breath, he drops his chin to his chest, then holds my gaze hostage as he murmurs the words that I’ve been desperate to hear since the moment he walked out of my life.
“I’m sorry I hurt you, Say.”
I bite my lip and swallow back the golf ball-sized lump in my throat. “It’s––”
“Don’t say it’s okay,” he murmurs, his face contorting in pain.
I hate that I don’t want to see him hurting even after everything he put me through. That I’d rather comfort him instead of letting him feel an ounce of the agony I’ve had to live with since the moment he walked out of my life.
But his pain has always been mine, and I can’t bear to sit back and let him carry the burden of guilt any longer. Not when I know how awful it feels. He’s not the only one with regret. I should’ve fought harder for him. I should’ve gotten on a plane and begged him to give us another chance. To give me another chance.
My smile is tight as I set my hand against his forearm that’s still resting against my open driver’s side door. “It’s not okay, Owen. But it’s life. Live and learn, right?”
“I was young and stupid––”
“We both were.”
“No. This is on me.”
“You don’t owe me an explanation, Owen,” I lie.
“Of course I do,” he growls, his warm breath kissing my cheeks. We’re close. Too close. But I can’t find the willpower to put some much-needed distance between us. I’ve always been weak around him. I guess not much has changed in that regard.
“I owe you a hell of a lot more than an explanation,” he rasps. “I owe you the life we’d been planning to build together before I threw it all away because I thought I wasn’t good enough. I was young and stupid––”
“We’ve already covered that part,” I quip, my voice nothing but a breath of anguish.
“Let me take you out to dinner. Please?”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t.”
His attention drops down to my mouth the same way it used to, making my toes curl with anticipation before remembering that he’s not mine to kiss. Not anymore. I gulp and pull away from him, desperate for air the same way I’ve always been desperate for him. My own self-preservation battles with my need to keep him close, to taste him again after all these years.
But I can’t.
“Thanks again for today,” I whisper. “I’ll, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He pushes himself away from the door and watches as I fold myself into the driver’s seat. “I’m not going anywhere, Say. I’m going to earn your trust again.”
“Bye, Owen.”
“See you tomorrow, Say.”
The door closes with a reverberating thud that shakes my bones. Praying he can’t see the way my hands are trembling, I slide the key into the ignition, then turn it until the engine rumbles to life. I can feel him watching me through the window, but I refuse to meet his gaze as I pull away.
If I do, I’ll crumble. I’ll give in. I’ll beg him to take me to dinner. To take me back. To make me feel better. To call me his own. He’s broken me enough times without sticking around to put me back together again.
Who’s to say this time would be any different?
11
Owen
“You failed. You know that, right?” Skye informs me the next morning with crossed arms and a disappointed glare that could make even the most stubborn teenager cower with regret.
“I didn’t fail––”
“She came home alone, which means you failed.”
“This isn’t about sex for me––”
“You weren’t called The Big O for nothing, Owen.”
With a dry laugh, I rub my hand over my face before practically collapsing my weight against the same cabinet Skye’s leaning against in the break room.
“Not sure if sex could fix this.”
“You won’t know until you give it a try.” She winks.
“I’ll keep that in mind. What did she say when she came home last night?”
“That it was just you and her. And she’d forgotten how well you two work together. How easy it feels whenever you’re around.”
“Anything else?”
“That you apologized and asked her out.”
“And?”
“And she turned you down because she’s terrified of getting hurt again.” She pushes herself away from the cabinet but manages to maintain the same badass, don’t mess with me finesse with her head cocked to one side. “Here’s the deal. I think you were smart to apologize and to kind of lay it all out there. But she didn’t fall in love with serious, no-holds-barred Owen. She fell in love with cocky, carefree Owen. The one who doesn’t live with regret. The one who’s charismatic and makes a girl feel special but not overwhelmed. Does that make sense?”
“So, you’re saying that since I’ve made my intentions clear and have already apologized, now, I just need to be patient and bring on the charm?”
“Charm, orgasms, and yummy food. It’s what makes the world go ‘round, my friend.”
“That, and anything nerdy for our girl,” I clarify.
Her smile widens. “Exactly. Wake her back up, Owen. Make her feel something, even if it takes years to do it.”
A wave of determination spreads through me before I give her a nod. “I can do that.”
“I sure as hell hope so, or that means I’ve placed my money on the wrong horse, and I’ve already done that once before. Don’t prove me wrong, Owen.”
