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“I wouldn’t have let you––”
“I know. But I wanted to. More than you can imagine.”
Mind spinning, I force myself to stay in the present instead of getting lost in the what if’s that threaten to swallow me whole.
“W-why didn’t you tell me?” I whisper.
“Like you said, you wouldn’t have let me, anyway. And when I mentioned the idea to someone else, he shut it down. Fast. Told me that I was too young to throw away my future for a girl.”
“Who told you that?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he returns, flicking on the blinker before turning down an unplowed road.
“Tell me,” I plead.
Lifting his chin toward a simple gray building up the road, he says, “We’re here.”
“Owen….”
“You still an expert at Star Wars trivia?” he asks, piquing my curiosity enough to drop the current subject. And besides, I want to enjoy tonight. And this conversation is only weighing me down.
With a scowl, I grab the door handle, then turn back to him, and mutter, “I see whatcha did there. And yes. I may or may not have an addiction to the movies, and I may or may not have been watching them every Friday night in sync with Grady and Turner.”
“And me,” Owen adds, smirking back at me. “‘Cause I was there too.”
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t doing it to be with you in spirit because you were still on my shit-list at the time. Grady and Turner, however….”
Amused, he grabs the collar of my jacket, tugging me closer to the center console. Then he pastes a hard, goofy kiss against my mouth. “Am I still on your shit-list?”
“Depends. Why did you ask if I’m still an expert in Star Wars trivia?”
“Because there’s a trivia tournament inside that building with a bunch of people who are just as hyped up on Obi-Wan Kenobi as you are.”
“He’s mine––”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. You made it clear that if we ever want to have a relationship, you get a free hall pass for the guy––”
“Damn straight,” I interrupt. “But only the Ewan McGregor version. And don’t you dare think about talking me out of it.”
Chuckling, Owen brings my hand to his lips and gives me a softer, more gentle kiss than before. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” Then he tilts his head toward the gray building that looms a few feet away from us. “Come on, Say. Let’s go get our nerd on.”
19
Saylor
This place is legit. I feel like I’m at a Comic-Con dedicated solely to Star Wars nerds and have never felt more at home in my entire life. Square tables are scattered around the giant room. Each one has four chairs tucked beneath them, along with mini-whiteboards the size of a standard piece of paper placed in the center and a black dry erase marker to match.
At the entrance, they handed each of us a badge and a table number, then directed us to the bar in the back corner with themed beverages. My grin widens as I scan the menu.
“Darth Mauled Pomegranate Cider?” I read aloud.
“How ‘bout the Qui-Gon Jinn and Tonic?” Owen counters with a smirk.
I cover my mouth to muffle my laughter before I drop my voice low and ask Owen, “How did you find this place?”
“You’d be surprised what a guy can find when he’s determined to impress a girl.” His eyebrows bounce up and down. “Is it working?”
Rising onto my tiptoes, I brush my lips against his cheek. “Maybe.”
