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“Yeah,” he says. “I think I’m going to head out.”
The phone call.
“Right, of course,” I say. “You’ve been here a long time. . .” My voice trails off.
He glances at my phone. “You should call him back.”
I look at my phone, as if I don’t know who he’s talking about. “No, it’s not—”
“Mack said he’s a nice guy,” Owen says. “You deserve that.”
Deserve? Maybe. Want? Nope.
I want romance. I want a secret code and inside jokes and speaking a private language. I want to be able to read his face, whether he says anything or not. I want moonlit kisses in cool mountain air and someone to take care of me when I’m si—
I stop.
I do a quick check, and unlike Chad, I find sparkles and tingles and glances and swooning just by looking at Owen.
Owen is wrong for me. He’s always been wrong for me.
Swoons can’t be trusted.
But isn’t that exactly what romantic gestures are supposed to conjure?
Does it matter how the swoons show up? Whether it’s from gestures or actions or simply from being in the same room as the person?
Wait. My head is a jumbled mess.
I can’t think straight, and I don’t know if it’s the foot massage or the food poisoning or both.
Is it possible for us to be a wrong fit and still be. . .right?
Images swim around in my mind’s eye.
He saved me from the fire.
He organized the clean-up at my house.
He walked me to my car.
He danced with me between the shelves.
He may not be a romantic, but aren’t those things romantic? And even if they aren’t, don’t they feel romantic because of the way I feel about him?
“You okay? You look a little green.”
The assault on my mind has my insides in a knot. Not just any knot, either, the kind a boy scout would tie to get his merit badge.
“Yep. All good.” My voice is squeaky. It’s squeaky because I’m trying really hard not to admit to myself what I am in the process of admitting.
And since he’s standing here, I fear he can see my thoughts on my face.
Owen picks up his keys and nods at me. “The flowers are nice.”
I glance at them, then back at him. “Sunflowers are my favorite.”
“Really?” His face brightens, then goes neutral. “Cool.” He looks around, then nods at me again. “See ya later.”
