Okay, so maybe Owen Axel shows up 30 minutes, no make that 32 minutes, late. Jeez, he was going to have some stupid excuse. I shouldn’t even open the door, he was just going to try and manipulate me into…
“Minka open up, I know you’re there…I’m sorry,” he sighs, running a hand through his golden brown locks, causing the muscles in his biceps to flex. My heart gives a squeeze in my chest. God, he looks incredible.
I have to open the door, or I really would qualify as some immature high school girl. Edging towards the knob, I slowly turn it, feeling the anxious tingles in my stomach spreading through my body. I don’t want to be excited that my very hot, very late, crush is on the other side of this door, but I can’t help it.
I have a witty jab ready on my tongue, but it dies on my lips the minute Owen steps into the light pouring onto the porch from the foyer. He looks exhausted. He still has his baseball uniform on, swoon, which have hand-print sized orange dirt stains running down his thighs.
I’d never been jealous of dirt stains before, so this was a new one. His hair stuck up haphazardly, and my fingers were suddenly itching to run through it, to massage his scalp. Do whatever I could to wipe that defeated look from his face..
But its more than that. He looks haunted. It scares me. Not because I didn’t know how to deal with it, but because the look he wore, with his eyes drawn together and his mouth bracketed by lines of sadness…it was the look I saw on my father’s face each and every day.
“Hey,” he breathes at the same time I ask, “Are you ok?”
His lip curl up at our railroading of each other, but the smile doesn’t meet his eyes. I suddenly would sacrifice anything to plaster that charming grin he usually wore back onto his lips.
He moves toward me, not uttering a word, and swoops me up so that my feet leave the floor while he embraces me. Talk about sweeping a girl off her feet, literally.
His hands go around my waist as he eliminates any space that had remained between us. My arms go to his strong shoulders, and he buries his face into my neck. I realize that I didn’t know how not okay I’d been for the last couple of days without him. Not until he picked me up in his arms.
He keeps me there, suspended, for a few minutes, each of us just feeling the other under our fingertips.
And I slowly began to acknowledge that I’m getting in way deeper than I had bargained for. And that I am too weak to stop it.
“Come with me somewhere?” he mumbles into my neck, pulling away to look into my eyes.
“Sure,” I mutter, mesmerized by his the flecks of turquoise in his baby blues.
We walk hand-in-hand out to his truck and climb in. After he’d reverses out of my driveway, he takes my palm, lacing my fingers through his own rough, calloused digits. He doesn’t let go the entire drive, as if I was some thread that would slip away if he didn’t hold on for dear life.
Owen maneuvers the car through Mitchum’s busy Main Street, which is coming to life on the beautiful Sunday night in July. People line the sidewalks, speciality lattes in hand, checking out menus displayed in front of the chic restaurants abundant on this stretch of town. I had never observed the main drag much, I tended to shy away from it. Seeing it now, from the passenger seat of the town superstar’s truck, I could almost understand that need to be seen.
My body jostles as Owen makes a sharp right, veering away from the hob-knobbers in the town square. I fall into his big body with an “oomph,” and he looks down to give me the most genuine, despite it being small, smile he’s thrown my way all evening. I lean up and kiss his cheek, trying to soothe whatever he was warring with inside himself. I really had missed him the past couple of days.
Since he’d brought dinner over, and also supplied some dessert, there had been a shift in our interactions. No, I wasn’t calling this a relationship. Yet. If I even wanted that.
But, something had changed. We texted and talked the entire time he’d been away at his clinic, something I definitely wasn’t used to, not even with Gregory. A boy had never taken a genuine interest in things I liked or had to say. With Owen, it was just different. He was different. So damn different than I’d ever given him credit for.
And of course I can’t get enough of him. Besides his obvious attractiveness, yes, he was insanely, panty-meltingly hot, he was smart. Really smart. He could debate me on a number of topics, and was versed in numerous subjects, whether it was politics or pop music. I never got tired of conversation with him. And for someone who is an admitted introvert, that’s a big feat.
Owen drives us slowly around a bend in the road, and I suddenly know where we are headed. Giving an exasperated sigh, and not caring what’s going on with him for the moment, I voice my objections.
“Seriously? You take the girl who hates high school, during the mandatory school day and beyond, to the high school? You would think this was a sick date spot, bro.” I huff, yanking my hand back from his.
And this is why, besides being so damn different this past month, he was the same. The same as all of those people who had stripped me of my pride, my self-worth, and left me as this shell of a person. A person who would never, ever so easily trust anyone again.
I stare out the window, calculating the distance between the football field and my house, seeing if its plausible to run for it once he stops the car. I wasn’t putting myself in another situation like I had two years ago. I’m smart enough to cut and run this time.
As we near the familiar building with its all glass front, I actually start to sweat. I need to put my head between my knees for the fear of throwing up, but I have enough dignity left in me to not blow chunks all over Richie Riches’ leather seats.
But then he speaks, for the first time since we’ve been in the car. “Trust me, okay? I would never take you anywhere that you didn’t feel comfortable.”
I look over to find his penetrating gaze on me, a slight smile playing on his deliciously full lips. Can I trust him? I would never admit this to him, or any breathing soul on this planet, but I did. Which equally intrigued and scared the shit out of me. I just hoped he wasn’t leading me down a path of humiliation, because at this point, I was too far gone to turn back now.
“Ok,” I breathe. He nods at me and scoops my hand back into his.
Owen brings the car to a slow stop and maneuvers into a parking spot on the outermost row of the lot facing the wooded perimeter of the school.
Turning the ignition off, he reaches down and unfastens his seatbealt. “Ready?” He brings his thumb up to graze my cheek in a sweeping motion. I can feel the touch all the way into my core, where a slow burn has started from just that gentle swipe. I have to stifle a moan, my body so wound up from not seeing him in days.
“Yes,” I sigh, moving into his hand that is now firmly holding my chin.
We climb out of the truck, and Owen rounds it to help me out. Grabbing a bag from the bed of the pickup, he wraps an arm around my shoulder and starts leading me towards the woods. I stare up at him curiously, raising one eyebrow.
“You’re awfully cute when you do that, you know?” he winks, my first indication that the Owen I know is on his way back to wherever he’d disappeared to.
“Well, it’s not everyday a guy lures me into a dark wooded area. You don’t have a knife in that bag right, or a noose?” I joke, pretending to peer around at his backpack.
“Just keep walking, smartass,” Owen pinches my nose with the hand wrapped around my shoulder.
When we walk about fifty feet into the woods, I spy something ahead that looks like a clearing. As we move closer, my eyes catch on a sign hung on one of the big pine trees. “Welcome to the StoneShack,” it reads. But above Stone, someone has written the word “bone” in red Sharpie. Classy.
Looking up, I see a pretty elaborate treehouse high up into the pine. How had I never known about this place?
“What is this place?” I look over at Owen, who was smirking.
“Some seniors built it when I was a freshman, s
nuck out here to get stoned during school hours. And apparently, engage in some other debauchery as well…” he snickers.
“Um...news flash, I don’t smoke. And if you really think you’re getting me naked in some seedy hook up spot, you clearly haven’t gotten to know me at all.” I start to feel cagey again. What the hell were we doing here?
“Relax, goody-two-shoes. You’ll see why I brought you when we get up there. Now up you go,” Owen gives my butt a gentle smack, heat firmly replacing the sadness that had resided in his eyes just minutes ago.
Ok, so if he tried to get me naked up there I wouldn’t exactly resist…
Nearing the tree, I put my foot on the first makeshift rung, essentially a slab of metal that had been driven into the tree. It would be a long climb, the treehouse looked to be almost 20 feet off the ground. I grab the rung above my head and pull myself up, careful to go slow in the pitch black that had now set in around us.
“That’s it baby, take your time, go slow….” Owen taunts from below me. So he wanted to play that game, huh? I wasn’t the only one who could get hot and bothered from innuendo.
“Oh yeah, baby? Just try to keep up with me, I want us to get there at the same time,” I peer under my outstretched arm. I can’t see him well like this, the moon obscured by so many branches, but from his intake of breathe I know I’d accomplished my mission.
I make it to the top, despite a few missteps and shaky hands, and pull myself up through the hole in the boards comprising the floor of the treehouse. Owen follows shortly after, pulling the backpack off once he stands up and spills it’s contents onto the floor.
“Ok so we have….a blanket,” he winks as a he spreads it out on the dirty wooden floor, “Juice boxes, every kid’s picnic favorite…..and….” Owen roots around in the bottom of the bag, finally pulling the item he was looking for free, “Swedish Fish!”
He smiles, taking a bow and then plopping down on the blanket, ripping the straw off one of the juice boxes and taking a large gulp.
I blink, stunned at this weird, yet adorably cute turn of events. And then a trickle of doubt niggles under my skin. Is this his play? This is how he gets me to completely fall?
“So, this is where you take all the girls, right?” I say, trying to keep my voice void of any emotion.
Owen snaps his head to me, his expression unreadable from where I stand in the moonlight.
“Actually no, I have never taken any other girl, let alone person, up here with me. Jeez, you must really think that little of me.” he shakes his head, staring out over the trees.
Instant guilt floods my system. I had to stop doing this. I had to stop second guessing my gut. I had to stop letting the events of my past rule my present. I sit down on the blanket next to him and fold my legs indian-style.
“I’m sorry. I just…..it’s not easy for me to trust. Especially someone like you.” I play with the frayed edges of the blanket.
“Someone like me? We’re back to this again? I’m just me, Minka.” Owen edges his fingers close to mine, not quite holding my hand, but just laying his fingers there. “Who made you like this?”
His question is almost a whisper, almost as if he didn’t even want to ask it. Did he really not know? Maybe he hadn’t realized that the girl who was humiliated was me. Was I ready to tell him?
Looking at him in the silent, dark night, his fingers drawing circles into my palm, I realized I wasn’t. I couldn’t reveal what had happened, not yet. I couldn’t stand to think of the day he looked upon me with pity, or maybe even evil humor in his eyes. It was a mix between the two, the looks that my classmates gave me. I wasn’t ready to give this up. I wanted Owen to see me as he saw me right now, for as long as I could hang on to it.
“It’s….in the past. I’m sorry for snapping.” I need to change the subject, and fast. “What was wrong earlier?”
Owen lays back on the blanket. “Join me?” He motions for me to lay back with him, so I do. “This is what I come up here for.”
Following the direction Owen’s muscled tricep is pointing, I stare straight up. “Oh my…..”
Overhead the tree’s formed a canopy, with an opening directly above where we laid in the treehouse. “I’ve never….”
“Seen the stars so clearly? I know. It's like you’re sitting in the clouds. It’s addicting, this view.” He reaches out to find my hand on the blanket where it lays in between our bodies.
I’m star struck, literally. I can’t even seem to form a sentence. It feels like the sky is inches from my face, like if I was to reach out, I might be able to hold one of those burning balls of light. Butterflies explode in my stomach as I realize, Owen had brought me out here. Obviously this spot was special to him, and he’d shared it. With me.
We laid there holding onto each other in a peaceful silence, until Owen spoke up.
“I have felt like a failure just about every day of my life.”
If he didn’t sound so goddamn sad just then, I would have thought he was joking.
“You probably think I’m just over-exaggerating. ‘How could a rich, popular jock like you ever feel like that?’” He laughs cruelly at himself.
I stay silent, willing him to go on.
“My father…...he’s this baseball legend. Set tons of records, played for the best, most notorious team in the world. He’s in the Hall of Fame, he has gotten everything he ever wanted. Except for me that is….the son who can never, ever do anything right.”
I squeeze his hand, feeling the pain radiate off of him. I want to take him into my arms, but can sense his need to get this out.
“All my life, the man I was supposed to look up to, who was supposed to love me more than anything, he treated me like shit. Do you know that if someone tells you over and over again just how not good enough you are, you start to believe it? Well, that’s what he did. Nothing is ever good enough. I pitched three perfect games in high school…..in high school! Do you know how hard that is?! Do you know what he said to me after my last one? I came off the field, looking, finally, for some words of encouragement. He told me that my last four pitches of the game registered under 90 miles per hour, and that I needed to work on that on the unlikely chance my sorry ass was ever going to make it to the majors.”
I move across the blanket and prop myself up on one shoulder. With my fingers, I begin to run lazy circles up and down his arm, trying to comfort him.
I can’t believe what he was telling me. Him, not feel worthy? He had everything. It had never occurred to me that we were more alike than I’d ever imagined.
“I try so hard, you know? I try to get good grades, stay a part of the ‘in-crowd’, and most of all, I try really fucking hard to be the best damn pitcher anyone has ever seen. And I don’t just try. I grind myself into the pavement day in and day out to make those things happen.” Owen pauses, shaking his head as if he’s trying to work out some idea stuck in there. “He laid into me again tonight when I got home. Called me lazy. I just want to drop him sometimes, just lay his ass out. Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn’t be better if I just disappeared altogether…”
This last statement shocked me. I didn’t know Owen well enough to know if that was serious, but I knew how it felt to think everything would be better if you were gone. I’d struggled with those thoughts. I didn’t want to call them suicidal, because I personally know I would never take my own life, but I knew what it was like to struggle with them.
“Fuck him,” I spit. The sudden thought of this handsome, gifted man doubting himself so severely pisses me off. “Fuck him, Owen. If that’s how he wants to treat his son, who is so incredibly talented, smart, funny and so many other things, then fuck him. You don’t owe him shit. You have worked hard for everything you have.”
He sits up then, a mixture of awe and sadness in his perfect blue eyes. He lunges for me, scooping me up into his lap and engulfing me with his big body.
“But what if, when I get to the top, all they see me as is Carl Axel’s son?” he
whispers into my neck.
I run my hands up and down his back over his shirt, wishing I could rub out the lingering doubt and fear inside him. “It’s your choice, and your choice only, how they see you. Don’t resort to living in his shadow.”
“You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever known.” Owen brings his hands up to my face then, circling it and looking deep into my eyes. My heart starts to spasm. I know in this moment, I am in trouble.
Because if I wasn’t in danger of being lead down the path, I was now. My heart wasn’t in danger of giving itself to him, because it had already given itself up to him.
Moving his lips towards mine, he kisses me sweetly, reverently. Owen steals my breath, kissing me so tenderly that I forget to take air in.
Stopping the kiss, he rests his forehead against mine. “I want to take you somewhere next weekend. Will you come with me?”
“Where?” I can barely think to try and register a sentence.
“The Outer Banks….my parents have a house there. I want to have you all to myself before I leave for summer league in two weeks.”
I couldn’t have said no if I tried. No matter how many warning bells were going off in my head. He’d just opened up, way up, and I found myself wanting to spill my deepest secrets and fears to him as well.
“Of course I’ll go.”
* * *
Owen drops me back off past midnight. We might have gotten carried away and lost track of time after I’d agreed to take a trip with him. I couldn’t seem to keep my head on straight whenever that boy got within 20 feet of my body.
Walking into the house, I freeze when I hear a thud come from the kitchen. I stop, my heart suddenly in my throat, afraid it might be more than a bump in the night. I hastily grab an umbrella from beside the door, holding it over my shoulder like a baseball bat, ready to strike.
Creeping around the corner, I yelp like a mad woman when my dad appears through the archway to the kitchen.
“Jesus, dad, you scared the crap out of me.” I drop the umbrella with a thud and place my hand over my chest to calm my rapidly beating heart. Little good that would have done to stop a potential intruder.
Pitching to Win (Over the Fence #1) Page 9