Page 89 of Caught in the Axe
Chapter 30
Lila
Iwoke nestled in Owen’s arms, the gentle rise and fall of his chest against my back nearly pulling me under again.
Last night had been intense. Emotionally and physically. If I could, I’d bottle up this feeling of contentment and save it for the lonely days ahead. Eventually, we’d have to say goodbye. There was no way around it. And I wasn’t sure how I’d survive it.
So much had changed for me since Owen had come to town. For years, I’d been pushing myself to grow and evolve, to move beyond the girl I used to be. Owen may not have known it, but he’d helped me realize that the woman I wanted to become had always been a part of me.
The first time I’d ever been complimented on my intelligence, I was twenty-two years old. I’d dropped out of school to follow Cole to Indiana, where he was playing for an ECHL team.
We’d been broken up for a bit, but he begged me to takehim back. Said he needed me. Swore he’d never make it in the pros without me. So, like a stupid, silly girl, I caved. College had not been going well for me anyway. Even with the pageant scholarship money, I’d struggled to pay my tuition, and I hated the merchandising courses I was taking. So rather than buckling down and working hard, I was more focused on partying with a group of sorority girls I’d befriended.
Leaving with Cole seemed like an adult decision. The two of us, in a new city, following our dreams. In reality, we were chasinghisdream, but he made me feel like I was an important part of it, even if I was nothing more than his support. There to cook for him and have protein smoothies waiting when he got home from practice and always present to cheer him on from the stands.
I got bored quickly, so I enrolled at a local community college, hoping to find something that interested me.
I was a solid B student in high school, which my mom had celebrated. Her expectations for my grades were low, just as her parents’ had been for her. Plus, finding time to study was challenging when I spent all my free time dancing, cheerleading, and traveling on the pageant circuit.
“You’re beautiful,” she’d always say. “You don’t need to be smart. Your future is so far away from here. The first step is just getting out.”
And I’d believed her. No one on earth loved me as much as my mother. It had taken a long time to realize just how misguided she had been.
At the community college in Indiana, I was required to take a math assessment to enroll. I aced the first test, and then they gave me a harder one. Eventually, oneprofessor, Ms. Lipman, asked me to meet with her. She went on and on about how I had the makings of an excellent math student. She encouraged me to enroll in calculus and accounting and consider pursuing a business degree.
No one had ever told me I was smart before that day. Not because I wasn’t, but because the world saw me as nothing more than a pretty face. But on that day, in that dingy office, I felt like I was capable of doing something worthwhile.
When we moved to Florida, I transferred my credits and got serious about earning my degree. Cole didn’t understand why I bothered with school or why I picked up a waitressing job to pay for it. The job meant I couldn’t attend all of his games, but for the first time in my life, I was pursuing something for myself rather than living to please others.
The idea of working for nonprofits inspired and motivated me. So I researched and I studied the best way to go about making a difference in the world.
Then I made myself a promise. I was creating a life for myself. I’d use my brain and my work ethic rather than clinging to a man or getting by on my looks.
So where did that leave Owen?
A shiver worked its way through me as he nuzzled into me and dropped a soft kiss on my naked shoulder. It would be so easy to fall in love with him. He was older and successful and already established. I’d ridden on Cole’s coattails for years, but I had too much respect for myself to do that again.
“Morning, gorgeous,” he said, rolling onto his back and pulling me with him so I was sprawled out on his chest.
God, he was so warm and strong, and being here with him made all my baggage seem insignificant.
“I want to talk about last night,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
My stomach sank. Owen was a mature, adult man. Of course he wanted to openly discuss things. In most circumstances, I would find that scorching hot. Accountability and honesty were major turn-ons. But for now, I wanted to run and hide from my feelings. I wanted to live in this little bubble, here in his cabin, and ignore real life.
So I did what any girl in my position would do. I created a diversion.
I kissed his neck, then worked my way to his earlobe and nipped at it. “Can you give a girl some coffee first?”
While he put the coffee on, I dressed in yesterday’s clothes, like I was putting on armor to fortify myself against what he’d say. We stood in the kitchen, sipping coffee silently while my mind raced and I dug deep for courage.
I’d come over here. I’d made the big gesture. That meant I should be the one to step up and make this right.
“I know you want an explanation.” I shifted on my feet, pushing back the trepidation rolling through me as I searched for the right words. Avoidance and a smile, my go-to coping mechanism, wouldn’t cut it here.
He set his mug on the countertop and sighed. “I do. You were very clear in Boston, and I’m struggling with the mixed signals.”
Yup. I deserved this.
