Page 92 of Breakaway Hearts

Owen

If she kills you…

“No onions?” Dave asks as I add garlic and butter to the pan, my eyes travelling to the door every time someone comes in.

“We’re out,” I say, pretty sure there’s a full bag of them in the garage, but I’m banking on Colt being the one who bought them. Or at least on Dave not calling me on the lie.

“Did you know, Madison hates onions?” he says like there’s no correlation and this is completely new information, but his eyebrow reaches his hairline as he waits for me to confess.

We went to The Commons after the game last night, and Maddie picked all the onions off her salad. I told her I also don’t like them unless they’re cooked, but Maddie made a face like the very idea of them is disgusting. Tab took her side, then added, “Unless you chop them up really small and slip them in when I’m not looking.”

Madison looked like that would be the ultimate betrayal, and so…no onions.

Not that she said she’s coming, but she doesn’t seem to hate me, or athletes, as much as she used to.

Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, I realize, as Jay walks in alone, shaking his head when Colt asks if his better half is coming.

“This is delicious, thank you,” Jason says after his first bite.

“Owen’s not terrible,” Colt is supportive as ever.

“He’s nothing compared to Mrs. James,” Donovan argues.

“Savannah’s mom?” Jason asks at the same time as Vale questions, “Owen made this?”

“It’s edible,” Mike teases.

“The bread is out of this world,” Jason assures me. It’s warm and wrapped in a cloth, so I’m touched he believes I’m the one who is that talented…and dedicated to team dinner.

Colt snickers. “Miss Mabel dropped that off an hour ago,” he shares.

“The little old lady who lives next door,” Dave explains to many confused looks.

“With Bree,” I add. Maddie must have mentioned the girls she goes kickboxing with. Not that Sav ever tells me what they talk about, but she casually mentions that she saw ‘my girl.’

“And before you misplace your praise, Sav made dessert,” Colt yet again throws me under the bus.

“Pumpkin pie?” Spring asks.

“Almond pastries?” My mouth waters at the thought.

“I didn’t open it, but it was heavy,” Mike admits.

“Is she coming down?” Donovan asks, getting blank stares.

“Who’s bedroom do you think she’s hanging out in?”

“Then where the hell is she?” he asks with concern.

“Not here.”

“Did she need a ride? I can go get her.”

“She has a car,” Colt reminds him. “And she was here this morning.”

“Miss Mabel also made us apple bread, but we had that on the porch with Sav and Bree, because Miss Mabel ‘hadn’t seen her in forever!’” Dave does an excellent impression of our neighbor, even though Sav stops by nearly every week to either see us or Bree.

“Sav has her own friends now, remember?”