I wish I hadn’t said anything to London.

  She hasn’t spoken much to me all week, and I don’t know what to do about it. I don’t know how to tell her that I feel betrayed by her. I feel like she doesn’t have my back or even care about my feelings. I really thought she was a good friend, but she’s so in love with Leroy, she can’t even consider that he is a fat-phobic asshat and won’t tell him to go fuck himself. I mean, that’s what I’d do if the guy I was dating ever spoke to anyone I cared about the way Leroy speaks to me.

  But like my mom says, “Not everyone was raised the way you were.”

  That’s the least of my issues right now. I’m unsure if letting Owen in was a good idea. I knew from the jump that he was trouble. I’ve always known that. It’s the main reason, along with his cockiness, that I stayed away. I knew he had the ability to make me feel things I was never ready to feel. Though the difference is, back then, I thought he couldn’t live up to my standards.

  Now, I’m terrified I don’t live up to his.

  The pressure to make sure I’m everything he thinks I am is so frustrating. Like, I know I don’t need to do anything more than I am doing. He likes me, I like him, but it’s all going so well that it has to go to shit. It just has to. Daily, I can’t believe he texts me. He works out every morning for games, and he still comes to work out with me in the evening. I feel like I should do my hair or give him a blow job, but even though I don’t, he still shows up. Unfortunately, my mind won’t allow me to accept it for what it is. Instead, I ask myself, does he still like me? Does he still think I’m attractive? Shit, I took too long to text; he’ll be pissed.

  But he never is.

  For the first week of our relationship, if that’s even what we’re calling this, I’m overthinking the shit out of it, and it’s stressing me out. Not that I would ever tell him this. He would get on to my case and reassure me like the sweet guy he is. Oh my God, did I just think Owen Adler is a sweet guy?

  I did.

  He is.

  Wow. This is all so crazy.

  I walk along my plant area, misting and cleaning leaves as I speak lovingly to them. “I’m looking for another home for us. Don’t freak out. It’s okay. We’re all going to be great. We just need to grow somewhere else.”

  When my phone rings on my bed, I jump in surprise. I glance at my clock by my bed, and it’s late-late. I walk over to my bed, worried, to find it’s Owen on FaceTime. My lips curve up first, but then I fix my hair, making sure I don’t look like something that belongs under a bridge. When I answer, I look as if I’m scared, and I instantly feel stupid.

  He, of course, looks dreamy and so damn gorgeous. He’s lying on white sheets, freshly showered. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” I draw out, unsure how to act. Do I look okay? Nope, still look like something that lives under a bridge. “It’s late. Aren’t you tired?”

  He nods. “Yeah, but I wanted to call and see that gorgeous face before I go to bed. It was a rough game.”

  “Oh, that stinks. I thought with you scoring, it wouldn’t be as bad.”

  “I did. I hate losing,” he says with a grin. “So, you watched?”

  “Only for you,” I say, and his grin grows. “Detroit was playing hard.”

  “I know. I took a fucking blade in the mouth.”

  “Ouch. You still have teeth?”

  He flashes me his pearly whites. “Sure do.”

  “Good. I like your smile.”

  “I like yours too. Makes me all gooey inside.”

  I snort. “Gooey? You freak.”

  He laughs, turning onto his side. “So, how was your day?”

  “Busy,” I say, going back to my plants. “Lots of classes today. But thankfully, it was just a data and filing day at work, so I got out early and then worked out before coming home.”

  “Cool. How’s school?”

  “Really good. I got a B on a test last week, but I was able to turn in some extra credit to bring it up to A.”

  “Smart girls are hot,” he says, waggling his brows at me. “Especially you in your sexy glasses—wait, are you in the jungle?”

  I laugh out loud, shaking my head. “No. These are my plants!”

  His eyes widen. “I thought you said you had a few.”

  I wave him off. “Oh, I lied so I didn’t sound like a crazy plant lady. But since I cried on you, I figured it’s time to come clean. I love plants.”

  “I see that. Wow. That’s a lot.”

  “Wanna run?” I tease, and he laughs.

  “To you, yes. I miss your face.”

  I grin. “Just my face?”

  “And your ass.”

  I snort at that, shaking my head. “You’re a mess. When do you get in?”

  “Tomorrow morning. I’ve got some stuff to do, and then if you have time, can I steal you away?”

  “Steal me away where?”

  “I don’t know. Anywhere. As long as we’re together.”

  Oh, heart. I smile, nodding. “I would love that.”

  “Groovy. How’s it with the roommate?”

  “Ugh, so bad,” I say on a long sigh. “She hasn’t really been speaking to me.”

  “She’s a bitch.”

  “Jesus, you don’t even know her.”

  “And I don’t like her.”

  I laugh. “You’re so aggressive.”

  “Aggressive? No, I’m passionate. If I care about someone, don’t mess with them.”

  We share a small smile, and I can’t wait to see him tomorrow. “You sound like my uncle Jude.”

  This awestruck look comes over his face. “You mean Uncle Legend Number One? Dude is so awesome.”

  “Okay, calm your tits.”

  His laughter makes my stomach tickle. He lowers the phone so I can see his nipples as he rubs them. “But they’re my party tits.” I fall back on my bed, laughing as he watches me, smiling from ear to ear. “Your uncle is one badass dude.”

  “Yes, he is,” I agree, moving my fingers through my hair. “They want to see me this summer for a family thingy. My dad actually called to try to convince me to walk at graduation.”

  As soon as the words leave my lips, I instantly regret them.

  “Why does he have to convince you?” he asks, as I knew he would.

  I clear my throat, and I decide there is no point in lying. “I don’t want to.”

  “Why?” he asks, staring into my eyes.

  I bite my lip, holding his gaze. “You know why.”

  He makes a face. “Come on, Paxy. Really?”

  I shrug. “I know if I walk, my family will come, and everyone in my school will see how big I am now.”

  He holds up a finger. “For one, you aren’t big. For two, don’t make me fight your brain. I’ll do it. It keeps being mean to my beautiful, gorgeous, perfectly shaped Angela Paxton.”

  “Yours? Wow, that’s a bold claim.”

  “I am a bold man, Angela. Get used to it, and believe me. We will all be so proud of you. No one is going to be like, ‘Oh no, she’s gained some weight. Don’t give her a diploma!’”

  I scoff. “You don’t know that.”

  “I do, and I will physically fight them if they do.”

  I chuckle. “You’re crazy.”

  “About you, I know,” he says with a wink, and I can’t stop myself from grinning.

  When he yawns, I say, “You need to go to bed.”

  “I do, but I want to talk to you.”

  “I’m going to bed. I’m done watering and cleaning my plants, so I can go to bed now.”

  “You clean them?”

  “Yes. I don’t like dust on them.”

  “Huh,” he says, but I don’t think he is really listening. Instead, he asks, “So, where are we on the walking for graduation?”

  I bring my brows together. “Solid I don’t think so.”

  “That’ll change,” he says confidently. “And going home to see your family?”

  I make a face. “Solid maybe.”

  “That’ll change too,” he announces with so much confidence, I’m jealous. “I’ll be at graduation, and I’ll go home with you.”

  “Man, super bold.”

  “It’s true,” he says with a wink. “Don’t fight it.” When I laugh, he smiles. “Okay, last question.”

  “Okay?” I say with a sigh since it really doesn’t matter what my answers are. He’s dead set on changing my mind on everything.

  “Do you miss me?”

  “It’s been a week, and I just saw you Monday,” I jeer.

  “And? I told you I miss you.”

  “You did not! You said you missed my face! Oh, and ass.”

  “Which is attached to you. So, in theory, I miss you.”

  I beam at his silliness. “This theory has holes.”

  “I disagree wholly, but I do miss you.”

  “Yes, I miss you.”

  When he winks, my heart flutters. “A week, Owen. One week.”

  “Hey, all I needed was an hour and I knew I’d miss you.”

  My lips curve even more. “Goodnight, Owen.”

  “Goodnight, Angie.”

  We wave at each other like dorks and then hang up. I lay the phone on my chest and exhale loudly.

  A week. It’s been a fucking week.

  Though, he’s right. I missed him the second I left him.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Owen

  * * *

  “Are you coming home for the summer?”

  I make a face, glancing out to where Dart is looking at some protein bars. “I don’t know. Hold on, Ma. Hey, Dart, you going home for the summer?”

  He looks up, shaking his head. “No. Rumor has it my mom is moving here.”

  When he starts to sing “Rumor Has It” by Adele, I know there is no point in continuing the conversation, but that’s cool. I know he’s been missing his mom. Before I answer my mom, I focus on some protein powders that I have been staring at since she called. I’m at the store looking at supplements for Angie. She has been drinking some crappy protein, and I want to get her some good stuff.

  It’s been about eight days since Angie and I…started talking? I don’t know. In my opinion, we’re dating, but I might need to run that by her. It sure does feel like we’re dating, though. I’m only talking to her, and I’m pretty certain it’s the same for her. One thing is for sure, this all feels pretty damn good.

  “Yeah. I don’t know, Mom. I might, not sure.”

  “Really? I assumed you’d come—oh Jesus, who is she?”

  I grin widely, even though she can’t see me. “What? What are you talking about?”

  “The only thing that would keep you from home is hockey or a girl. Hockey is ending—sadly, for both our teams—so who is she?”

  I hold back my laughter. Leave it to my mom to know me completely. “I’m gonna act like I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

  “You stay a constant pain in my ass. Please wrap up, Owen. You’re so damn busy.”

  I shrug. “I have been on my best behavior while I’ve been here. She even said you and Dad raised a good guy.”

  “Was she drunk?”

  “Damn, Mom,” I say, feigning hurt. “I thought I was your favorite.”

  “You are, very much. But I know you’re hurting, missing Evan, and I worry you’re just out willy-nilly with your dilly all over town.”

  I pause while reaching for another protein. I look over at Dart, who looks back at me.

  “What?”

  “My mom says I’m willy-nilly with my dilly all over town.”

  He snorts. “We should make that a T-shirt.”

  “What in the world!” my mom screeches.

  “We’d be rich,” I decide, holding back my laughter.

  Dart beams, nodding as he humps the air. “Then we’d be really willy-nilly with our dillies ’cause all the women would want us.”

  “I don’t know if I like that guy,” my mom complains then, and I laugh.

  “You’re the one who brought up my dilly.”

  “Okay, fine. I’ll leave your dilly alone, but please consider coming home. I miss you so.”

  “I miss you,” I say automatically, and even though the season is ending in several weeks, I’m not ready to leave. I was before Angie, but not anymore. She could blow me off tomorrow, but it’s unlikely. I think she likes me, a lot, and I sure as hell like her. The only thing I don’t like is how surprised she is every time I call or text. We had two away games this week, so I FaceTimed her when I knew she was working out. She answered, as if she couldn’t believe I called. That was annoying. I even told her I would be FaceTiming her, but she still struggled to believe it.

  “Hey, Mom, I have a question,” I say as I find the powder I want for Angie. I throw it at Dart, and he catches it one-handed before taking the wad of cash I hand him.

  I point to the outside, and he nods as my mom says, “What’s that, my heart?”

  My chest tightens, and man, I miss her. She’s been calling me her heart my whole life, and it’s honestly my favorite. Once I’m outside, I ask, “Did you ever struggle with insecurities about your weight?”

  “Owen Michael, you’d better not be developing something. You’re so damn strong—”

  “Jesus, Mom, not me. I know I’m hot.”

  She pauses. “You know, for a second, I thought I was talking to Evan.” I chuckle, and she laughs softly. “But yes, all women do, honey. We live in a world where your weight defines your worth. I’ve worked very hard to instill in y’all that it doesn’t, but not everyone is taught that.”

  I nod. “How did you deal with it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Did you go to therapy or what?”

  “Well, actually, it was your dad.”

  “Dad? What do you mean?”

  “He reassured me. He loved me, hard, and always made me feel perfect in my skin. It didn’t work all the time, especially at the beginning. I honestly don’t know why he stayed with me. But obviously, he knew we were meant to be together even when I didn’t.”

  I have to smile at that.

  The epic love story of my parents is plastered all over our house and then on YouTube. My parents had broken up for a reason unknown to me; Posey said it has something to do with an aunt we don’t talk to, but I never got the full story. But they broke up, and when my mom showed up with her male coworker to an Assassins’ hockey game, my dad thought the dude was another man in her life. So, he shattered the plate of glass where she was sitting to “scream my love at her,” as he so psychotically puts it. Guess that did it for my mom because she wanted him back, so she sang to him in the middle of a packed arena, and the rest is history.

  Shea and Elli forever.

  I turn my attention from the past back to my mom as she finishes, “…then I would be done being pregnant since I was always so big with all of you melon heads, but no matter what, Shea reassured me.”

  “Evan had the melon head. Mine was normal-sized. Not anymore, I know,” I say, and she laughs.

  “I love all of your melon heads,” she promises. “But why do you ask?”

  I don’t know if I should say anything because when it does come out that Angie and I are together, I don’t want my mom to know Angie is insecure. Or struggling with her looks. “Dart is dating someone who hates her appearance, and I basically told him the same thing you said.”

  “Oh. Well, good. Maybe we did raise y’all right.”

  “Just a bit, but I’m still the best out of everyone.”

  “Of course you are.”

  I press my lips together. “You’re gonna text Posey, Evan, Shelli, and Quinn they’re the best as soon as we get off the phone, aren’t you?”

  She isn’t even ashamed. “You know it. I love you.”

  I smile as I shake my head. She tells us each we’re her favorite, but I really do believe it’s Evan who is the for-real favorite. Then she tells each of us we are the best, and success-wise, Shelli has it, but Quinn is going to be a doctor. Which leaves Posey and me to be normal hockey stars. Oh well, at least I know I’m always loved.

  “I love you too, Mom.”

  We hang up just as Dart comes out. “I bought two. I want to try it.”

  “It’s good, really great vitamins,” I say, taking the bag with Angie’s stuff. “Did you get the protein bars? I’m sure she didn’t eat.”

  “Yeah. Why doesn’t she eat?”

  I shrug. “She tells me she forgets, but I think she taught herself to go without to lose weight.”

  He makes a face. “She doesn’t need to lose weight. That girl is made to have curves like that.”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell her, and if I was sure she wouldn’t leave me for you, I would have you tell her.”

  Dart grins like a cat. “Dude, she would. Do you see all this?” he says, moving his hand up and down his body. “And my dilly is the size of a hockey stick.”

  I flash him a dark look. “It’s about the girth, my friend,” I retort, not that I’m lacking, but he does have a toddler arm down there. Lucky asshole. He laughs, and I roll my eyes as we head to my truck. Just as I’m getting in, though, I notice a nursery.

  I point to it. “That’s like a nursery for plants, right? Not kids?”

  He looks out at it. It’s a rather large place, and I’m sure it’s too big for kids, but I’m still unsure. “I don’t see any kids. Just green shit.”

  “Cool. Let’s go check it out.”

  “Why?”

  “Angie likes plants.”

  “Why? They don’t do anything,” he complains, and then he chuckles behind me. “You’re gonna buy her a plant?”

  I shrug. “Maybe. I want to make her happy. She’s had a rough week.”

  “Maybe you should just lay it down for her. She’ll be out of that funk.”

  I roll my eyes. “You are the epitome of willy-nilly with your dilly.”

  He grins. “I’m so making that a shirt.”