The sentiments made my face flush. I felt the same way about him, but wasn’t ready to tell him just yet. It was too soon, at least for me. I was still dealing with the guilt of breaking my promise to Reagan. Not that I’d admit it.
“Someone’s laying it on thick today,” I teased.
Owen’s eyes met mine. “I’m just happy,” he admitted. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be then here in this moment . . . with you.”
“Me too,” I replied softly.
Owen pulled us to a stop. The world around us seemed to fade away. It was just the two of us, staring deeply into each other’s eyes and having some unspoken moment pass between us. He brought his hands to my face, caressed my cheeks, and gently pressed his lips to mine.
“I mean it,” he whispered. “This is the happiest I’ve been in a long time. I’m fal—”
I brought my finger to his mouth, silencing him before he could finish the sentence. I knew what he was going to say, and I wasn’t ready to hear it. It was all too soon. We still had so much to learn about each other. To get to know each other on a more intimate level. And there was one obstacle I had to overcome—guilt.
I needed to figure out how to stop feeling guilty about being with him. As happy as I was, as much as I looked forward to what the future had in store for us, in the deepest corner of my mind, I was filled with guilt. Guilt for breaking the one last thing I had of Reagan. Until I got over that, I couldn’t fully give myself to Owen, and I couldn’t allow him to give himself to me.
Not completely.
Owen’s face dropped, void of expression, and it intensified the guilt I was feeling. His eyes were full of . . . I wasn’t sure. Sadness? Disappointment? Anger? Maybe a little bit of all three. I couldn’t take the way he was looking at me anymore. I brushed past him, walking away.
“Brennan, wait!” he called out to me. He reached out for my hand and brought me back to a stop. I took a deep breath and faced him. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“It’s not that, Owen,” I told him. “It’s ju—”
“You don’t have to explain it to me, I get it,” he cut me off, taking a step closer to me. He brushed the hair away from my eyes and smiled softly. “I just want you to know that I’m not going to hide how I feel about you. I don’t expect you to return those feelings, not right now. I know you’re still struggling with things. I see it lurking in your eyes. But I don’t want to waste a second not telling you how I feel every chance I get. I want you to know that I’m crazy for you.”
“Owen—” I started.
“Let me finish,” he cut me off again. “What I was going to say is that I’m falling for you . . . I’m not in love with you.” As much as I didn’t want to hear it, my heart faltered for a moment, disappointed by his admission. He must’ve sensed it because he kissed the top of my forehead, and stared into my eyes. “Yet,” he added. “I’m not in love with you yet . . . but I’m well on my way to being there. I just want you to know that. I need you to know that.”
“I—” Owen pressed his finger against my lips, stopping me from saying anything.
“You don’t have to say anything, Brennan. I just wanted you to know, okay?”
I clamped my mouth shut and simply nodded my head. My heart felt like it tripled in size. Who was this guy? I thought. And how did I get so lucky? The overwhelming feeling of joy vibrated through my body, but it was short lived. Guilt was creeping back in, echoing in my head that I was a traitor. I closed my eyes, trying to will it away.
When I opened my eyes again, I was met with the tender gaze of Owen’s bright green eyes. So many things were unspoken then. I knew in that moment there was no going back from this. Somehow, in some crazy way, he snuck in and found a permanent place in my heart. All that was left to do was try and not push him away.
We started to walk again. His arm around my waist, my around his, and I snuggled into his side. He was right, it was like I was made to press up against him.
***
Over the course of the next couple of weeks, I found myself falling harder and harder for Owen. I also found myself fighting the guilt more and more. With each day, it was getting a little easier, but not without struggle. We spent every waking moment together: before classes, between classes, and after classes. Owen had been late to his lectures more times than he could count on his hands.
Just as I was coming out of my shell, Amelia was turning into herself. The once playful, unfiltered girl I had met on my first day here was gone. There was no trace of her. She left our room before I was awake and didn’t return until after I was asleep. Some nights, she didn’t even come home, and those nights I stayed up worrying about her.
I asked Owen several times if he knew what was going on with her, but he didn’t say all he knew. Just a simple “They had a bad falling out.” But he never elaborated on the other half of the “they” part.
The less we saw of Amelia, the more we seemed to see of Callen. He’d essentially became a third wheel wherever we went. Popping up at the most unfortunate moments, and not taking a hint when he overstayed his welcome, so to say. He was like that annoying little brother who wouldn’t go away, but you couldn’t help but to indulge the puppy dog eyes he gave you.
So when Owen showed up at my door with him in tow on what was supposed to be a date, it wasn’t much of a surprise. More like annoying, but I didn’t have the heart to send him away.
“I take it that there’s not going to be a romantic dinner for two?” I teased, looking between the two of them.
“Nope!” Owen answered cheerfully. “I’ve got a much better surprise.”
“Do tell.”
Owen shook his head. I crossed my arms over my chest, having no intentions of stepping outside my room until he told me what we were up to.
“Pout all you want.” He laughed heartily. “You look cute, but cuteness isn’t going to give you want you want.”
“Oh yeah?”
I unfolded my arms, slipping them around his waist, and pressed dangerously close to him. I planted kisses along his jawline, rubbing up against his growing length under his jeans. I gently ran my tongue across his collarbone, feeling bolder than I ever had before. I laughed softly as he inhaled a sharp breath before ending the torture I was putting him through.
As I tried to pull away, he tugged me against him. “You’re a cruel, cruel woman, Brennan,” he whispered, thickly. “You’re going to pay for that later.”
A chill ran down my spine at his words. We were treading a dangerously thin line that was getting smaller and smaller. Owen never pressured me in the sexual sense. If anything, he was the first one to put a stop to things when they got heated. It was both frustrating and comforting at the same time.
“Can’t you guys do that crap when you’re alone?” Callen groaned from behind Owen.
I looked around Owen’s shoulder and stuck my tongue out at him. “We would, if we were ever alone, jackass.”
“I didn’t realize I was such a pest,” Callen said, his voice dropping an octave. He cast his eyes to the floor. My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach, and I immediately felt bad.
“You’re not a pest,” I tried to assure him. Owen moved aside so I could walk past him. “Not even in the slightest bit. Besides, you make a great chaperone,” I said, trying to cheer him up.
Callen chuckled, looking up to me. “Great, so now I’m a babysitter.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I really need to get a life.”
“Or get laid,” Owen chimed in.
Callen laughed louder, the sound echoing in the hallway. “That too.”
“Let’s get going,” Owen said, changing the subject.
“Not until you tell me where we’re going?” I demanded.
“You’ll see.”
He took me by the hand and dragged me out of my room. After stumbling a few steps, I went along with him without a fight. We headed downstairs to the lobby, out the doors, and I discovered Sam
waiting in the parking lot with his car.
“Lovely,” I said, pulling my hand from Owen’s and walking toward his cousin. “Not only am I not getting my romantic dinner, but I’m stuck with you, too.”
“Hey, I tried to warn you,” Sam teased. “My cousin doesn’t do romance.”
I winced at his words, remembering his warning the first time we met. Though Owen had proven time and time again that his past was, well, just that—his past. I had complete, one hundred percent faith in the guy I had fallen head over heels for.
“Don’t let him fool you,” I told Sam. “Your cousin certainly has a way with words.”
“Never said he didn’t.”
“Among other things,” I added playfully.
Sam jumped from his perch on the hood of his car. His face instantly turned red as the heat of embarrassment rushed to his face. He spun his keys around his finger and headed toward the driver’s side door. Callen hopped in the front seat as Owen and I slid into the back.
My breath caught as Sam put the car in reverse and eased out of the parking spot. Owen reached over, taking my hand into his, knowing my discomfort about being in cars. His touch was instantly soothing, and I felt my body relaxing. It still didn’t prevent me from holding onto the necklace around my neck. Between the two, I was at ease.
“Do you always drive like a grandma?” I heard Callen ask.
Sam’s eyes flicked to mine in the rearview mirror. I knew then that Owen had told him about my issues with cars. The thought was comforting, but also made me nervous. I wasn’t sure how much he had told him.
I made it clear that under no circumstances was he to share what I told him that day at the lake. If I wanted anyone to know, I’d tell them myself.
“Shut up, ball boy,” Sam stated.
Laughter filled the car as we all chuckled. It was strange sitting in a car with three guys who had grown up together. It reminded me of my brothers in a way. The thought was nice.
Sam pulled into a parking lot of what seemed like a house. I looked over at Owen, knitting my eyebrows together. He turned his lips into a slight smile, nodding his head toward the sign I had missed when we first arrived.
“A tattoo shop?” I asked, entirely confused. “What the hell are we doing here?”
“Getting tattoos!” Sam exclaimed from the driver’s seat. “What else would be doing?”
“And you all are getting a tattoo? Is that why you tagged along?”
“Oh no, sweetheart,” Sam crooned. I offered him a smile through the mirror. “We’re all getting a tattoo.”
My mouth fell open. I’m pretty sure it hit the floorboard of the backseat. I quickly glanced at Owen, who was watching me, gaging my response to the idea. The color drained from my face. How was this romantic? We were supposed to be going on a date, just the two of us, and tattoos were certainly not on the agenda.
“Brenn,” Owen said cautiously. “You don’t have to get one if you don’t want to.”
“I want to,” I answered immediately.
His eyes widened. I could tell he was as surprised as I was. I never thought I’d get a tattoo in a million years. My parents were going to die when they found out. They strongly disagreed with the idea of permanently marking your skin. None of my brothers, surprisingly enough, had a tattoo. I thought for sure Trent would get one on his eighteenth birthday, but he never did. If he had any interest in one, he certainly never shared the fact.
We climbed out of the car, making our way inside the green building. We entered through the side door. I took one look around, realizing that it was indeed a house, just one that was converted into a tattoo parlor.
A guy with short hair, tattoos covering every inch of visible skin, and facial piercings was perched behind a glass countertop.
“Owen!” he called out, coming out from behind the counter. Owen closed the distance between the two of them. They clasped hands and hugged one another. “I was wondering when we’d see you again.”
See him again? What was he talking about? Did Owen have a tattoo I didn’t know about?
The guy’s dark eyes met my gaze. He looked to Owen with a wild look in his stare. “And who is this pretty little creature?”
“Mitch, this is my girlfriend, Brennan,” Owen answered. I got flutters every time I heard him call me his girlfriend. One would think I’d be used to it now but every time felt like the first time he used the term. “Brennan, this is Mitch.”
“Nice to meet you,” I told him.
He walked over to me, taking my hand into his. “No,” he said softly. “It’s nice to meet you.” He smiled softly. “You have no idea how nice it is to meet you.”
“Is Jay in the back?” Owen asked quickly.
I looked to him, curious as why he suddenly jumped at his friends words. Mitch’s hand lingered on mine for a moment before he released it and turned to Owen.
“Yeah, head on back. He’s waiting for you guys.”
Owen came over and led me through the house. We entered a large room, separated into two parts. Long, black, cushioned tables stood in the middle of each section. Beside each of them stood what looked like red toolboxes. In the far corner sat a guy with dreadlocks, who had his back turned to us and was hunched over a small table.
The guy closest to us greeted us with a warm smile, and rose from his stool. “Owen, my man,” he said. His voice was deep and rich. “It’s about time you came back in. Ready to finish up your tat?”
“That’s why we’re here.”
“Are you guys getting work done?” the guy asked. He tilted his head to the side, moving his dark bangs out of his eyes.
“Yeah,” Sam said. “Got an appointment with Drew.”
The guy with the dreadlocks turned in his seat, waved toward us, and signaled for Sam to come on over. Sam looked to me, held his thumbs up, and made his way to the artist.
“Mitch is hooking me up,” Callen volunteered.
“And what about you, peaches?” the guy asked in a velvety voice. “You looking to get some ink?”
“Uh,” I started.
“I got her set up with Laurie,” Owen answered. I quickly turned to him, widening my eyes. What did he mean I was set up with Laurie? How’d he even know I’d go for this? As if he read my mind, he answered, “I figured I’d set you up just in case.”
I nodded, unable to say anything.
“And that leaves you with me,” the guy spoke up, directing the statement to Owen.
“Jay . . .” he said slowly. So this was Jay. “Like I’d let anyone else touch my side.”
His side? Is that where his tattoo was? Why hadn’t I see it before?
Before I got a chance to ask, a tall, slender woman entered the room. Her hair was cut into jagged layers, with chunks of bright red highlighting it. She sported a lip ring, nose ring, and a dermal piercing by the corner of her eye. She wore a plain, black tank top, showing off her tattoo-covered arms.
“You must be Brennan,” she said, her voice soft. Tender, almost like a whisper. I nodded again. Still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I was actually about to do this. “You ready?”
I looked over to Owen, who squeezed my hand. He pressed a kiss on the top of my head. I turned back toward Laurie. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
She turned on her heels and started to leave the room. I followed behind her. My footsteps faltered as I saw Owen pulling his shirt off in the large mirror propped up against the wall in front of me. My breath caught when I saw the big ink markings on his rib cage. He turned away from the mirror before I could make out the details of the design.
Laurie turned off into another room separate from the main room. She sat down on a spinning stool and motioned for me to take a seat on the tabletop.
“So, what are we doing today?” she asked.
“Well, uh . . .” I paused, unsure of what I wanted to do.
Laurie leaned back, looking me over, and cracked a smile. “Virgin skin.”
“Ex
cuse me?” I asked, not hiding the astonishment at her choice of words.
“This is this your first tattoo, right?” she asked. I nodded once. “That means you’ve got virgin skin. So let me start off by saying this, whatever you get, make sure it has meaning. Something that you’ll look back on in thirty years and love as much as you do today.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. Was I really about to go through with this? “And let me also suggest that you don’t do your boyfriend’s name . . . not a good idea, princess.”
My eyes widened and I shook my head. Taken aback by the thought of having Owen’s name tattooed on me. The idea never even crossed my mind.
“I’ll give you a few minutes to think about it,” Laurie said. “And I mean really think about it.”
I leaned back on my hands, closing my eyes. If I was really about to do this, I was going to think it through. I was going to be absolutely certain I got something I wouldn’t regret being permanently marked on my skin. I ran through the endless possibilities through my head. My eyes shot open as soon as I had it.
I launched into a detailed explanation of what I wanted and where I wanted it. Laurie took the time to sketch something out, while discussing the meaning behind the tattoo that would forever be on my skin. As she set everything up, I studied the drawing, making absolutely sure there was no changes I wanted to make. Once she was ready, I gave her the confirmation to proceed.
“Now,” she said. The sound of the machine buzzing startled me. I jumped at the noise, and she laughed. “It may or not be uncomfortable for you, maybe even a little painful since it’s your first. If at any time you need to take a break, let me know, and I’ll stop right away. Otherwise, let’s get this show on the road.”
***
“All right, show us what you got,” Sam said, as I rejoined the group of guys.
Everyone was already finished with their tattoos by the time I had returned. Much to my disappointment, Owen had his shirt back on, and I wasn’t able to see what he had on his side.
“You first,” I told Sam.
He lifted up the sleeve of his arm, peeled back the wrap around his upper arm, revealing an intricate design of thick lines covering the upper majority of his arms. I flicked my eyes to his, and raised an eyebrow.
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