She shakes her head. “No point. I found out where I stand, so I’ll start looking for another place to live. I just hate to go back there.”

  I waggle my brows at her. “You are welcome here. I have an extra bed in my room.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s Evan’s bed.”

  “Y’all still shared a room?”

  “Yes. He’s my twin.”

  “I can’t with how cute you two are, little best friends.”

  She looks up, and I capture her gaze with mine. “Funny, I was just thinking how I can’t with how gorgeous you are.”

  She squints at me, fighting back a grin. “Did you grab a beer to look cool?”

  “Don’t need one. I’m drunk off the fact that I know you like me,” I retort, and once more, she rolls her eyes.

  “So damn cocky. And you must be drunk, because I look like shit.”

  I don’t allow her to look away, my eyes burning into hers. I know she doesn’t believe me or even see her beauty, but I do, and I’ll continue to tell her the same until she realizes it.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Angie

  * * *

  I need Owen Adler to stop looking at me like he wants to eat me whole.

  My first instinct is that he’s drunk, but I know he isn’t. He finds me attractive, and I don’t know why. I can understand his wanting to help me at the gym or tease me, but he is coming on to me like a puppy after a piece of food from a toddler. I don’t get it. He can have anyone. Anyone! But he wants me. I should have chosen his friend Dart. He looks like the kind of guy that I could have had sex with and walk away after.

  There will be no walking away from Owen if we cross that bridge.

  According to him, I won’t be walking at all.

  Jesus, that makes my knees weak and I’m sitting down.

  I finally look away from him since his expression is hitting me square in the stomach. “Stop looking at me like that.”

  “Stop thinking you’re not gorgeously hot,” he retorts. “Maybe if I stare at you like this, you’ll start to realize the same.”

  “Or I’ll think you’re a psycho.”

  He nods. “That is a huge possibility too.”

  I giggle as we continue to eat our food from this fantastic hot dog place. I didn’t even know it existed, but I’m glad he introduced me to it. I haven’t had a good hot dog in a while. Along with the surprising hot dogs, I’m surprised by Owen once more. He’s so silly, so animated, and completely unlike any guy I’ve ever dated. I usually go for the really quiet, stoic kinds of guys. The ones who don’t talk much since I talk so much. With Owen, I find we both run our mouths, and it’s easy.

  Way too easy.

  I am not supposed to be into Owen Adler. I’m letting down teenage Angie. Or I’m fulfilling her deepest desires, and adult Angie is about to embark on something she isn’t ready for.

  I’m not sure which one terrifies me more.

  “I’m going to eat another one,” I say, grabbing my third. “I didn’t eat today.”

  He gives me a look. “You don’t have to explain why you’re eating, Angie. Eat.”

  I press my lips together and wonder why I do that. He’s right. I don’t have to explain my actions to anyone.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  I look up then, eyeing him. “Only if I can ask you something.”

  Our gazes meet in a very challenging way. He nods. “Rock, paper, scissors on who goes first?”

  I nod before I hold my hot dog with my mouth, and he laughs as we set up for the game. He throws rock like I knew he would, so I throw paper. “In your face,” I say around the hot dog, and he jeers.

  “I let you win.”

  “Sure you did, because Owen Adler would never be a sore loser about losing to me,” I tease back, and he grins, his little dimple just downright adorable. I take a huge bite, and once I’m done chewing, I ask, “How are you really doing with Evan being gone?”

  He pauses, sucking in a breath. “Coming at me hard, huh?”

  “Always. I play to win,” I throw back at him, and he nods.

  “Just like I do. I like it.” We share a grin, and he says, “Um, at first, I was devastated. Blamed myself, whole nine yards, but it’s hard to let it bother me when he’s doing so well. He had to start some new meds, but he just sounds better on the phone. Like my brother.” He looks through his lashes at me and grins. “And I’ve had the best distraction for the last two days.”

  I eye him. “So, that’s what this is? Something to distract you?”

  “Um, excuse me,” he says, holding up two fingers. “That was two questions. It’s my turn before you get to go again.”

  “My bad,” I admit, taking a long drink of my Diet Coke. “Please, ask away.”

  “Why didn’t you talk to me when we were younger? You basically acted like I wasn’t in the room.”

  I move the straw between my lips, thinking through my answer. I know his gaze is on me, but I want to be as transparent as I can. He was honest with me; I want to give him the same effort. “I didn’t want to like you, but I did.”

  “Elaborate, please.”

  I inhale, letting my breath out in a whoosh before I meet his gaze. “You were so damn cocky!” His laughter runs down my spine. “You thought you were God’s gift to hockey.”

  “I am. I’m Shea Adler’s son,” he says with the straightest and most believable face.

  “Oh good lord!”

  He grins, believing he’s damn right. “What? I am. And you know I am.”

  I mean, he is pretty damn good, but I’m not helping stroke that ego any more than necessary. “You spoke in the third person for two years.”

  He lets out a loud laugh. “I forgot about that. I was trying to get on Shelli’s and Posey’s nerves.”

  “You got on all of our nerves.”

  He sticks out his bottom lip at me, and with puppy-dog eyes, he says, “Owen is sorry.”

  I let my head fall back, laughing hard, as the sea breeze kisses my face. God, it’s beautiful out here. I look over at him, my head still hanging, and I smile. “I wanted to hate you, and I couldn’t. So, I stayed away.”

  “Well, I wish you hadn’t.”

  “No?”

  “No,” he says with an intense, serious look on his face. “There should have been no reason I had to wait years to kiss you.”

  “Eh, we would have hooked up, and then it would have been over.”

  He nods. “True. Very true. I’m glad I waited.” He holds his hands out, palms up. “Or that you wouldn’t give me the time of day and had me questioning if I was good-looking or not.”

  I roll my eyes. “Yes, I’m sure you struggled so.”

  “I did. It was a dark time for me.”

  “You’re impossible.”

  Owen beams at me, giving me those baby blues as if he’s looking at me for the first time. “Your turn.”

  I lean back on the blanket since I’ve inhaled my hot dog and exhale loudly. “How many relationships have you had?”

  “Three serious ones.”

  “Did you love them?”

  “Two of them, I did. The last one I knew would never be anything because she lived in Canada and Mom wouldn’t let me go alone, which really ruined my game.”

  “For sure,” I say, though I don’t think I was listening really well. His skin is so shiny in the moonlight, and I’m digging this spot. “You’ve got a badass place.”

  “It’s my grandma and grandpa’s. Amelia was living here, but then she moved in with Chandler, and she had to turn it over to me.”

  “Lucky.”

  “I guess I am lucky—since I live here and I’m sitting on the beach with you.”

  “Man, you lay it on thick,” I complain, and he laughs.

  “Just speaking my truth.”

  “Fine. Ask a question instead.”

  He nods. “Same. Relationships?”

  “Not since I’ve been here,” I admit. “I dated, but no one is worth a damn, in my opinion.”

  “Before here?”

  “A few, but I’ve only been in love once.”

  “William Pence?”

  I laugh as I nod. “Yup. You didn’t like him, did you?”

  “No. Such a dick.”

  “How many times did y’all fight and you were on the same team?”

  “At least ten. It got to the point that Dad finally kicked him off the team,” he says, shaking his head. “You know he was bullying Evan.”

  My smile drops. “No! What a fucker.”

  “Exactly.”

  “He told me y’all fought because you thought he was better than you.”

  He gives me a dry look. “Paxy, no one is better than me.”

  “Good lord,” I say, giggling, but I feel awful. I hate that William did that to Evan. “I want to beat him up myself.”

  Owen waves me off. “He knocked up three different women his rookie year and then got kicked off for performance enhancers. Karma got him.”

  “Karma got him with the size of his dick,” I admit, and Owen hoots with laughter.

  “Damn, you’re cold.”

  I shrug as his laughter subsides. I clear my throat then, and he looks over at me from where he has eaten his fifth hot dog. Dude can eat. “You’re not going to like my next question.”

  He makes a face, eyeing me. “Why?”

  “I just know you won’t.”

  “Oh well. Hit me with it.”

  I hesitate and almost change my question, but then I have to know. “Have you always been into big girls?”

  He raises a brow. “Pax, you’re hardly big.”

  “I’m not small.”

  “Nor have you ever been,” he says with a shrug. “You’ve always been tall and wide, and honestly, I don’t think you ate right when we were younger ’cause you always looked hungry and your cheeks were always sunken in.”

  I gape at him. “Please, don’t spare my feelings.”

  He scoffs. “I’m serious. You look healthy now.”

  “I’m overweight.”

  “So am I. You don’t see me trying to use that as a shield to keep people away from me.”

  “Wow. Please, tell me more,” I say, completely taken aback.

  “Just saying,” he says simply. “You aren’t big or fat. You’re chubby. Chubby sexy, in my opinion.”

  “Chubby. Sexy.”

  “Yes. Like your chub makes me want to get lost in your body and never come out alive.”

  I can’t help but giggle. “You’re such a liar. You never dated thick girls in school. I honestly don’t know what you’re doing with me.”

  He throws me a look and then names them off with his fingers. “Um, Kelly Brown, Jennifer Tavon, and Yasmine Probst.”

  I know all those girls, and they’re actually bigger than me. In their defense, not that they need my defense, they’re built to move mountains. Jennifer and Yasmine play rugby for the Bellevue Bullies, and Kelly is a professional weight lifter. Plus, they’re all insanely gorgeous.

  “So, you are a chubby chaser?”

  He rolls his eyes. “Like I said to that girl at the pub, I’m a soul chaser. If I vibe with you, the only thing that matters to me is who you are. A person’s body only adds to the magic of them.”

  Fuck me sideways. I’m going to fall in love with Owen Adler, aren’t I?

  “Oh,” I mutter as I look away.

  “Now for my question. Who has made you think you’re anything but perfect?”

  I look up at him. “No one.”

  “I can’t fight no one, Pax. Give me a name. I’ll find him.”

  I ridicule, “Society?”

  He thinks that over. “That could take me a bit. Can we narrow it down to one particular asshole?”

  I want to say Leroy, but for a very good reason, I don’t, because I believe Owen would go after him. “It’s mainly me. I mean, come on. Charlotte is a stick—”

  “She’s like fourteen or something. Of course she is.”

  “The boys have strong bodies—”

  “They also swim and dive twenty-four seven.”

  I press my lips together. “I don’t know. I just feel like a failure.”

  “For gaining weight?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How does that make sense? I know for a fact that your parents wouldn’t say anything.”

  “Oh my God, never. They love me so hard, and I think that set me up to never know what failure really is. They always just told me I was the best. And then when my injury to my wrist happened—boom! Hockey career gone.”

  “That happens, though. Life is up and down, Angie.”

  “I know,” I say with a shrug, feeling sorry for myself. “But then I started volleyball, and I was good, doing big things. But then shit happened, and I ran away because I felt like I deserved it.”

  He makes a face. “You deserved to be almost raped? That’s the most unreal thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth.”

  “Oh. I didn’t know you knew.”

  “Yeah, Evan told me.”

  Of course he did. I nod slowly. “I don’t believe it anymore after some serious therapy. But at the time, I did. I mean, you remember how horrible my bio dad was, don’t you?”

  He thinks for a second. “I mean, barely. I’ve heard stories, though.”

  “Yeah, he was so abusive. And after William, I had some shitty relationships. Then Taco attacked me, and I felt like I didn’t deserve to be loved.”

  “So, right now, I have William on my list. I need the guys from the shitty relationships and now a fucker named Taco. Who names their kid Taco?”

  I don’t want to laugh, but I do. “That was his nickname, and stop with the list, please.”

  “Oh, okay. I’ll throw out the mental list,” he says with a goofy look on his face that says he’ll do no such thing.

  “You’re absolutely impossible, Owen.”

  “I know, and you’re absolutely gorgeous.”

  I shake my head. “It’s hard for me to believe that… I don’t believe it.”

  “But it’s true.”

  “It’s not, though. I mean, I look at myself, and I don’t see what you see. It’s so frustrating that I allowed myself to get to where I am. I came here and just dove into school and work. I hardly ate because I was homesick, and then when I would, I’d eat everything I saw because I was so hungry. I lived off candy and iced coffees for a year before I realized I was gaining so much weight.”

  “Which is okay,” he insists. “You were healing, Angie. You can’t hate a body for doing what it had to do to help your mind heal.”

  I look away since tears start to fill my eyes. I swallow past the lump in my throat, hating how emotional all this is making me.

  “You have to see that. You were surviving. You can’t hate your body for that. You have to love it for that. There are people whose bodies give up even when they want to fight but can’t.”

  I press my lips together. Why can’t I see it like that? “I miss my family, so much, but I’m so scared they’ll be disappointed in the way I look.”

  He makes a noise of concern. “They won’t give two shits. They’ll just be so happy to see you and love you.”

  I bite into my lip to keep the sob in.

  “You shouldn’t be embarrassed by your appearance, because all I see is a girl who survived some shit and fought for herself and her career. I find that amazing, and I find you incredible.”

  I look up as the tears fall, and he lets out a small sound of distress before reaching for me and pulling me into his lap. I go willingly because I need it. I need the comfort. As I cry, he holds me, kissing my forehead and temple. He whispers that he has me, and I know he does. I nuzzle my nose in his shoulder as the sobs rack my body. I hate that I am letting go like this, but I want so desperately to believe him. To know his statements are true. I want to see things the way he does. I want to love myself. I want to be loved by him, which is absolutely terrifying and I’ll never admit it, but I do.

  As my tears subside, I stay in his lap, holding him as he holds me. “I’m gonna send your mom a fruit basket,” I say then in a whisper.

  He chuckles. “Why?”

  “For raising such a great guy.”

  “Eh, I’m cocky.”

  “You are.”

  “And a showboater.”

  “Oh, absolutely.”

  “I only have one dimple.”

  “I happen to love your one dimple. It’s not your fault Evan took the other one.”

  “That’s what I said,” he agrees, grinning against my temple. “But also, Owen just has to speak in the third person to inform everyone how amazing Owen is.”

  I close my eyes as the laughter takes over, but we don’t let go of each other. We sit on the beach, the waves crashing against the shore, and we laugh from our souls. And I know, damn it, I know I’m in so much trouble.

  But I don’t care.

  Because for once, I actually feel as if I’m worthy of someone like him.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Angie

  * * *

  I think I may have fucked up left and right this last week.

  Not in school or work—I’m killing it and doing wonderful. Even in the gym, I’ve been taking Owen’s advice and making some awesome strides. I’m really proud of myself, and I feel as if I’m getting stronger. I love working out with Owen, mainly because he’s so supportive and he doesn’t wear a shirt. He’s got one hell of a chest, and I love the hair around his belly button. But working out with him isn’t where I fucked up.

  I fucked up by going home with him.

  Not only did I bare my soul to him and cry all over him, but I enjoyed being in his arms. It was awesome being held by him, but the way he comforted me? I haven’t experienced that since the last time my dad comforted me. Owen is so kind, so loving. He listened to me, and he was very reassuring. So reassuring, I almost allowed myself to believe him. Problem is, when I got home, the first thing that happened after I opened the door was Leroy looked at me and laughed.

  “Is it hard to find clothes your size? Is that why you only wear sweats?”

  Before I could cuss his ass out, Owen called to make sure I got home all right. I wanted to tell him what Leroy said, but I knew that would be such a bad idea. Owen would go toe-to-toe with Leroy, and he’d catch a charge, and then it’d be my fault. I just wish it would all go away. I wish I hadn’t left the dorms. I wish I had a house on the beach that didn’t have fat-phobic people in it.