“I should go.” When he wasn’t trying so hard, he wasn’t nearly as obnoxious.
“Yes.” She nodded, leading him back down the stairs. It was only when she was pushing open the french doors that she realized he could have shown himself out.
He paused in the doorway. “You’re avoiding me?”
There was just enough rumble to his voice to make her toes curl in her fuzzy socks. Against her better judgment
, she looked up at him and held her breath.
“I’m leaving for boot camp in a few weeks. After that, you’ll miss me.”
He’d been a thorn in her side since the day he’d moved here. Freshman year. English class. He’d been assigned the seat in front of her. From there she’d seen what sort of guy he was. From his constant flirting with every girl in school to the way he relentlessly teased her, Owen Nelson became her nemesis. Everything about him pushed her buttons. She was pretty sure he knew that—and liked it.
Now he was leaving. Miss him? Her lungs felt heavy. Why would she miss him? “I doubt it.” Her voice wavered.
“Ouch.” He pressed a hand over a bulging pectoral.
She swallowed, too aware of him. “But tonight, this morning, I mean… Thank you for this.”
His fingers brushed a curl from her cheek. “That hurt to say, didn’t it?”
She was smiling at him. Why was she smiling at him?
Owen’s hazel eyes swept over her face, the hint of real emotion surfacing on his model-worthy face. “I knew you’d be worried about him.”
Meaning he’d done this for her? No. That wasn’t at all what he meant. Was it?
“I’ll whip him into shape before I leave. I need someone to work out with anyway. If you’re okay with that?”
She nodded, doing her best to stop smiling at him.
He drew in an unsteady breath. “We need to go out.” It was the softest whisper.
Say no. Say it now. And tell him to stop asking. She swallowed. “Why?”
He grinned. It was a heart-stopping sort of grin. “Because I’d like to spend time with you. A lot.”
He did? “Why?” She repeated, not nearly as resistant to the idea as she should be.
“Shh,” he reminded her, but his grin grew. “Why not?” His gaze held hers. “Good memories to take with me when I leave.”
He was leaving. Joining the Marines, like her uncle Zach. Meaning she wouldn’t see him again for a long, long time. Like Uncle Zach.
“Please,” he added. The word was soft and husky.
“Owen.” A little voice inside shouted yes.
“Honor.” He cocked his head, stepping closer. “Why is it so hard to say yes?”
Because he was all about the hunt and she was the one—the only one—who’d turned down the Owen Nelson. And now? She didn’t have time for this. For him and his smile and the way he was getting to her. “Why is it so hard for you to accept my no?” Why couldn’t she sound certain? Instead of all soft and wavering and lame. Because I’m lying and I’m a terrible liar.
“I would, if you meant it.” He reached for her again, his hand warm against her cheek. “You know what, Honor Buchanan? I’ve made sure I have no regrets so far. You’re going to mess that up. Because us, not happening… I’ll regret that every day.”
He was staring at her, waiting. But she couldn’t back down. Not after three years of eye rolling and staying strong. How could she?
Because she really wanted to. Oh my God, I do. “Fine,” she muttered.
“What?” he asked, his thumb sweeping lightly across her cheek.