Page 34 of Wish You Were Mine
“Of course,” I said quickly, even as something tugged at my chest. A small, annoying pang of disappointment.
“And obviously,” he added, his jaw tightening slightly, “that was a one-time thing.”
“Obviously,” I echoed, my voice softer than I meant it to be.
But even as I said it, my gaze betrayed me—drifting to his lips, memory sparking like a match as I remembered what it had felt like to be in his arms in that hot tub, snow falling around us, his capable mouth on mine.
Nope.Don’t go there,Lucy.
That kiss may have felt amazing at the time, but now that I knew better, it would do me good to stop remembering all the little details—like how safe I’d felt with him. Or how soft his lips had been.
And there we go again…
I blinked hard, forcing myself to focus, just in time to hear him say, “I’m glad you agree. Because I could get fired if anyone found out I kissed a student.”
“Right.” My stomach twisted. “I—I’m sorry. If I’d known you were my professor, I never would’ve…” I trailed off, cringing.
“No, I get it.” He held up a hand, his tone gentler than before. “You didn’t know. Neither of us did. So I can’t really blame you for…putting my career at risk.”
I’d put his career in danger.
Was that how he saw me now? Just a girl out to seduce her professor?
The shame hit hard, blooming across my cheeks.
It wasn’t like I’d been trying to get him in trouble. At the time, I’d truly believed he was just a bartender and a friend of Ky’s.
Was it really that wrong that I’d believed someone as smart, grounded, and kind as he’d seemed that night could be interested in me?
Apparently, it was. And now Owen wouldn’t be able to see me as anything else. The moment was tainted, and now that we knew better, I was simply a complication he had to manage.
Well, if he thought things were messy now, he might as well know the full story.
“Sorry you feel like I put your career at risk,” I said quietly. “I guess we should just be grateful Theo wasn’t at the party.”
His brows drew together. “What does Theo have to do with this?”
“He’s my older brother…” I said, bracing for his reaction. “So if he’d been there and saw us…and happened to let it slip to our dad…” I gave a small shrug. “We’d be in much bigger trouble.”
His expression shifted, blinking slowly like he wasn’t sure he’d heard me right. “Wait—Theo’s your brother?”
I nodded, offering a small, sheepish smile. “That’s why I was talking to him at The Garden.”
Owen’s mouth opened slightly, realization washing over him in slow, dawning horror. Then, like he was solving the second layer of the puzzle, his jaw dropped, and he went pale as a ghost.
“So that means…” he said slowly, looking like someone had just pulled the rug out from under him. “Your dad is…President Archibald?”
“Yep,” I said, the word falling like a weight between us. “That’s my dad.”
He ran a hand through his raven hair, exhaling slowly. “Which would make you…”
“Lucy Archibald,” I said with a wince, the name feeling heavier now, like a steel door slamming shut between us. “I’m the university president’s daughter.”
His eyes met mine, and I could see it all clicking into place—how we’d been even more doomed from the start.
My dad had always made it very clear to me growing up: appearances mattered. Image mattered. The Archibald name came with expectations.
Kissing a bartender was one thing.
