by Kelsie Rae
My smile is bittersweet as I return, “Yeah. Do you remember when we’d go to his games together?”
She nods. “We’d get all bundled up when it would snow, and you’d always wear his letterman jacket over your hoodie.”
“He said he liked seeing me with his name on my back because it showed everyone who I belonged to. He’d tell me that one day, he’d have a ring on my finger too. That even though we were young, he wasn’t afraid to claim what he loved.”
With our backs leaning against the couch, her head on my shoulder, and our asses on the floor, she mutters, “Then he had to go and ruin everything.”
“Yup. Bastard.”
“And now, it’s time for payback.”
I giggle and nudge her shoulder, making her sit up instead of using me as a pillow. “This is a terrible idea. You know that, right?”
“Maybe,” she admits, though it doesn’t stop the grin from stretching across her face. “But that doesn’t mean it isn’t also a little genius. Come on, let’s pull up his profile.”
The computer chimes before giving me the chance.
“I believe that is your first notification, Snake Lover,” Skye announces. “Let’s see what it says.”
The screen is bright as we both scramble toward it.
Nolan345: Hey.
“Hey?” Skye repeats, unamused. She turns to me. “That’s it?”
“Apparently?”
“You should respond.”
“With what? Hey?” I reply sarcastically.
“I would. If he wants to start it off boring, then let him be the one to keep the thing going.”
“Fiiine,” I drag out the word before typing my response.
Slytherin4ever: Hey.
Nolan345: Your photos are set to private.
I roll my eyes.
“Duh,” Skye mutters. “It’s not like we could show your face to Owen.”
Licking my lips, I answer the boring dude with a single word.
Slytherin4ever: Yup.
Nolan345: But I want to see what you look like.
Again, I roll my eyes, then look at Skye to find her doing the same thing.
“Block him. Block him right now,” she orders.
“But if I do that, then he’ll know, won’t he?”
“So? The point of this super-duper secret identity is to dangle it in front of a certain someone who deserves to be neutered. Don’t waste your time with this guy. Block. Him. Block. Him,” she chants.
“Will you stop chanting like a crazy person and show me how?”
“You’re the computer nerd, not me,” she counters.
“Well, aren’t you helpful,” I return, my voice dripping with sarcasm. After a few seconds, I search the settings for how to block a person from my account before finding the correct button.
“There. Done.”
“Now, on to the secret mission,” Skye announces with a yawn.
I pull up Owen’s profile.
And almost swallow my tongue.
“Damn, Say,” Skye murmurs beside me, resting her head against my shoulder again as an image of Owen with his tan skin on full display pops up on-screen. The guy has abs for days, strong shoulders, and freaking baseballs for biceps. He’s practically rippling with muscle, taut flesh, and bad decisions wrapped into a package that’s labeled: Touch me. I dare you. But it’s his eyes that pierce me. The crystal depths that don’t just look at you. They zero in on your soul, tempting you to let him in.
But I’ve already learned what happens when you give in, and I’m not stupid enough to let it happen twice.
I gulp and click on the little envelope in the top left corner of his profile.
Skye shifts a little closer and asks, “What are you gonna say?”
“No idea.”
“You could always try, hey,” she jokes.
I laugh. “Since that worked so well for Holden.”
“Nolan,” she corrects me with another dry laugh. “But nice try. Maybe ask him something? Something that you know will spark a conversation.”
“Like what?” I return, wracking my brain for options.
“I don’t know? Maybe ask about his knee?” Her face scrunches up as if she can still see the replay footage in the back of her mind. If I close my eyes, I can too. I’d never been so desperate to reach out to him and see if he was okay. Not only physically, but mentally too. It’s hard to give up on your dreams when you aren’t ready. I should know. Mine were ripped away from me on my front porch by the man who starred in all of them.
Bastard.
“I’ve got it,” I decide with a definitive nod. Then I let my fingers do the talking with the knowledge that I’m most definitely going to regret this in the morning, but I also kind of don’t care. Because no matter how much I hate him, I still crave his attention like an addict––my own personal drug. And if I can convince myself that he’s into other girls, that I don’t matter anymore, then maybe I’ll finally be able to get him out of my head once and for all.
Maybe.
4
Owen
With my ass on the couch and the ambiance of Minecraft and a potato chip bag crinkling as little fingers slide into it for the hundredth time, I pull out my phone. I shouldn’t be torturing myself like this. It’ll only cause another downward spiral of regret. But I’m weak.
Saylor makes me weak.
My thumb finds the Birds and Bees app like a homing beacon before I pull up Saylor’s profile. Her pictures are a knife in my chest every time I look at them, but I can’t help it. Her smile. The way her eyes crinkle in the corners. The teasing tilt of her lips as she smiles at the camera. The combination is crippling. If Saylor was trying to gut me with her pictures, it worked. I found her profile about two years ago before dumping my heart out through a drunken message that she never replied to. Hell, she might not have even read it or even seen it. That’s what I tell myself. That she just hasn’t logged into her account. That she hasn’t seen it yet, but when she does, she’ll respond. And I’ll be able to make it up to her.
I’ll be able to make her mine.
A notification pops up, just like the rest of them, and my thumb preps itself to swipe the message away when I stop.
Slytherin4ever: Hogwarts house. Go.
I cock my head to the side, rereading the message another dozen times as memories of my past with Saylor assault me.
“You’re really going to make me take this test?” I ask, quirking my brow as Say bounces toward me with a laptop pressed to her chest. She sets it on her family’s kitchen table, then motions for me to pull up a chair.
“Heck yes, I am. Sit down, Mr. Daniels. We’re about to find out which Hogwarts house the sorting hat thinks you belong to.”
Rolling my eyes, I do as I’m told and take a seat, trying to keep my amusement in check even though I know it’s a losing battle. The girl’s crazy. And freaking adorable.
She smacks my chest when it rumbles with laughter, completely oblivious that I’m falling for her in a way that should send me running in the opposite direction but doesn’t.
“This is serious stuff, Owen! Come on. Let’s see where you belong.”
With a quick tug, she falls into my lap before I plant a loud, smacking kiss against her cheek. “I belong with you, Say.”
“Is that right?”
I lean in and press a softer kiss to her lips. “Yeah.”
When I pull away, her cheeks are red as she stares back at me with a big, dopey grin. “Then let’s hope you get Gryffindor, ‘cause I can’t date a Slytherin.”
My phone buzzes with a call from my sister and tugs me back to the present.
“Can’t talk now, Nora,” I answer as soon as my thumb slides across the screen.
“We haven’t talked in forever! I miss my big brother.”
“Sure you do,” I mutter under my breath.
“I do!” she argues. “I haven’t seen you since you told me you were moving back home. Does it kill you to send me
an update?”
I shift my phone to my other ear. “You just want to hear the latest gossip.”
With a gasp, she counters, “No, I don’t! Although is there gossip? ‘Cause if there is….”
“Told ya,” I laugh. “And no. Nothing’s new.”
“So, you haven’t seen her yet?”
I pause and look over at Grady, who’s oblivious to my conversation, too invested in the video game to care.
“I knew it!” she yells, making me cringe.
Pushing myself up from the couch, I show Grady my open palm and mouth, “Five more minutes,” then head to my bedroom and close the door behind me. “Look, Nora, I know you found your happily ever after and all that shit, but––”
“Don’t but me, Owen. You can lie to yourself all you want, but we both know you moved back home because you miss her, and you know that your biggest regret is that you let her slip through your fingers. You’re not the only one who lost her, Owen. I loved Say like a sister. Will you just…tell me what happened? How is she?”
“We didn’t talk much,” I hedge.
“You’re gonna need to give me a few more details than that.”
My head thumps against the door behind me as I press my back to it and admit, “She hates me, Nora.”
“She doesn’t hate you––”
“She really does. It’s not like I blame her or anything, but…I dunno. I guess I was hoping there wouldn’t be so much animosity. At first, I thought everything was okay. Not great. But okay. Then I called her Say, and she lost her shit.”
Nora’s silence acts like a twist of the knife I embedded in myself all those years ago.
A few seconds later, her quiet voice echoes through the speaker. “Do you blame her?”
“I was trying to be cordial,” I defend.
“Doesn’t matter. You hurt her, Owen. I know you know that, but I’m not sure you really understand the depth of her pain.”
“Bullshit. I’ve been miserable since the day her––” My mouth snaps shut.
“Her what, Owen? You can tell me.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Why won’t you tell anyone why you ended it?” she snaps. We’ve had this conversation more times than I can count, but I still don’t know what to say.
She sighs but doesn’t push me, knowing it won’t do her any good.
“Listen, I know you won’t tell me why you broke up with her. But try to see things from her perspective. She doesn’t know you miss her. She doesn’t know that you never wanted to break her heart. She doesn’t know that you’ve been miserable since the day you left her. All she knows is that there’s physical proof that you moved on.”
“I never moved on––”
“You have a kid, Owen. She doesn’t know you were drunk off your ass, practically seeing double, and that the bitch dragged you upstairs, tampered with the condom, and got pregnant on purpose because she thought you were going to be a big NFL star who could be her own personal sugar daddy if she managed to get pregnant from a one night stand. And even though I know you don’t regret Grady and that you love him more than anything else in the world, Saylor doesn’t know his mom like you and Grady do.”
Defeated, I slide onto my ass but keep my back pressed to the closed door behind me. “What are you saying, Nora? That I should tell her?”
‘Cause I’ve tried that, I almost add but bite my tongue. The girl won’t read my freaking message. Or she has, and she doesn’t care.
“Not yet. If she can’t stand being in the same room with you, then I doubt she’d be willing to hear you out.”
“Then what do you suggest?”
“I dunno. Just…be patient, I guess. And figure out what you want before you try to fix something that’s already been obliterated.”
“Gee, thanks,” I mutter.
I can almost hear her smile as she returns, “I’m just saying that it’s not hopeless, but it’ll take a lot of work for you to even stand a chance with her after the hell she went through. Are you sure you’re willing to put in the work?”
My chest tightens before I lie, “Who says I want another chance with her?”
She scoffs. “You moved back. You didn’t have to say it.”
“Maybe I don’t know what I want.”
“Then why’d you move back?” she demands. Again.
“Because I want Grady to have a normal childhood.”
“He could have a normal childhood in a lot of places. Tell the truth, Owen.”
“I don’t…I don’t know,” I murmur. The lie leaves an acidic taste in my mouth.
“If you can’t be honest with yourself, how can you expect Saylor to trust you again?”
I hang my head and rub my temples to stave off the headache I can feel building in the back of my skull. “Damn, you’re frustrating, Nora.”
“Tell me,” she pushes, refusing to give me an inch.
“I don’t know what you want me to say. After my injury and finding out Dawn was pregnant and I’d have to raise him alone, everything was so messed up. I looked back on the last time I was actually happy and….”
“And you thought of Say,” she finishes for me.
I rub my hand from my forehead down to my chin. “Yeah. I thought of Say. I always think of Say,” I clarify with a gruff laugh. “It’s not like I have a chance of getting her back or anything. I don’t even know if she’s single or not anymore. I just…wish I could turn back time.”
“You can’t turn back time.”
“I know.”
“But you can make your future awesome, and you can right the wrongs from your past.”
“And how would you suggest I do that, Nora?”
“By telling her the truth.”
“I can’t do that.”
Not face-to-face anyway.
Frustrated, Nora demands, “Why not?”
“Because I can’t,” I reiterate.
“Then you can take it slowly. Just be her friend. That’s how it started between you two in the first place, right?”
We started out like an inferno. The spark was instant and burned us both alive before either of us even realized what was happening. She was it for me the moment I laid eyes on her my sophomore year. But I didn’t care. And neither did she.
She always thought she came second to football, but it wasn’t true. I did my best on the field because she was in the stands. She was watching me. Rooting for me. Cheering me on and lifting me up to be the best person I could be. And how did I thank her for it? I let the tiny voices in my head that said I wasn’t good enough, that she could do better, that we were too young to feel something so deeply…I let it all get to me. I was weak. I caved. I gave up the best thing that had ever happened to me, thinking it was best for her.
And maybe I was right. She became a teacher––the one thing she wanted more than anything else in the world. Except me.
“Is she still single?” Nora prods.
“I didn’t see a ring, and her last name is still Swenson, so I can only assume she isn’t married. But that doesn’t mean she’s on the market. And even if she is, I don’t have a chance with her. She can’t even stand to be in the same room with me,” I admit.
“Just be patient, Owen.”
I sigh. “I gotta go put Grady to bed. Goodnight, Nora. Thanks for calling.”
“Anytime. Oh, and Gage says hi.”
I smile. “Tell him hi from us too. Goodnight, Nora.”
“Goodnight.”
Then I hang up and push myself to my feet when my phone returns to its original screen and the same message that taunts me.
Slytherin4ever: Hogwarts house. Go.
Slytherin4ever: Not a Harry Potter fan?
I laugh and type a reply before I can talk myself out of it. Harry Potter always makes me think of Say, and even though this girl isn’t her, I’m lonely enough to pretend she is. Just for a minute.
OD: Love Harry Potter. My son and I are reading the series together.
OD: Yeah.
Slytherin4ever: Which one are you on?
OD: The fourth.
Slytherin4ever: Why the short answers, OD? Don’t feel like chatting?
I scrub my hand over my face. She’s right. I don’t want to chat with her. I just want Say. And even though this is the most innocent conversation I’ve ever had with a woman on a dating app, I still feel guilty. I’m single, for shit’s sake. Haven’t had sex in forever. But the familiar guilt gnaws at my gut like a sickness. Jaw tight with frustration, I type my response.
OD: Kind of dating someone right now…or trying to, anyway. Don’t want to lead you on.
I tuck my phone back into my jeans, then head to the family room.
“Alright, Grady. Time for bed.”
“Come on––”
“I already let you stay up for an extra twenty minutes because Aunt Nora called. Go brush your teeth, okay? I’ll be right there.”
“Daaad,” he whines, but he’s bright enough to turn off the Switch before trudging off to bed. I rub the top of his head as he passes by me, turning his shaggy hair into a rat’s nest. He scowls at me in return.
“Come on, bud. Let’s get you to bed.”
After helping Grady brush his teeth, he climbs into bed, and I sit on the edge of it.
“What’re you grateful for?” I ask, finishing off our nightly routine with the same question I’ve asked since he was old enough to reply.
His forehead crinkles as he thinks about it for a second before deciding, “Miss Swenson.”
My eyes widen. “Your teacher?”
“Yeah. She’s nice. I like her. What are you grateful for tonight?”
Scratching the scruff along my jaw, I mutter, “I guess I’m grateful for Miss Swenson too.”
“Yeah?”