Page 89 of Wish You Were Mine
While he headed inside, I glanced around the car, curious.
It was clean like his apartment, which I’d seen was tidy in that not-too-fussy, not-trying-too-hard way.
The backseat only had two things: his worn leather school bag and my backpack, which I’d dropped there when I got in.
No crumpled fast-food bags. No receipts scattered on the floor. No gym gear or stray papers or whatever else usually accumulated in mine.
Tidy and understated.
Like him.
It was probably a stupid thing to find attractive. But I liked it. Probably more than I should.
And before I could stop myself, I was imagining what it might be like to ride in this car more often. To be the reason there was an extra coffee cup in the cupholder. To know which station he listened to without having to ask. To have this—whateverthiswas—not feel secret or complicated or borrowed.
The driver's side door opened, and Owen slid in with the takeout bag in his hand.
He glanced around like he was weighing his options. “Eating in the car probably isn’t ideal, is it?” he asked, biting his lip as he looked over at me. “Puffy coats and greasy pasta don’t really mix…”
“I guess not…” I said hesitantly, trying to think of a solution that didn’t involve him just driving me home and calling it a night.
Because now that we were alone, I didn’t want the night toend. Not yet. Not when it finally felt like I was actually learning real things about him.
Plus, we were just…talking. Getting to know each other. Laughing a little.
There shouldn’t be anything wrong about that.
Okay,technically, it probably wasn’t the wisest choice. But it wasn’t like I was about to throw myself across the console and make out with him. No matter how sharp his jawline looked in the dim lighting. Or how his forearms flexed when he adjusted the gear shift.
Or how his voice somehow made my brain short-circuit on a regular basis.
I cleared my throat. “I mean this in the most appropriate and completely platonic way possible…but what would you think about taking this back to your place?”
“Huh?” He looked over, eyebrows raised slightly.
“I just—” I hesitated, not sure I should be this open with him. But since I was apparently throwing caution to the wind tonight, I said, “I like hanging out with you. And…I don’t really want to say goodbye quite yet.”
His expression softened, and the look he gave me made me think that maybe he, too, wasn’t ready for the night to end just yet.
“And,” I added, a grin tugging at my lips, “if anyone sees us, we can just say we’re planning my brother’s surprise birthday party.”
That made him perk up. “Oh yeah. That’s a good cover. I mean, youdostill have stuff to plan for that, right?”
“Pretty sure the only thing I’ve done so far is pick the date and time and text his friends about it.” I laughed, then exhaled. “Honestly, I’m kind of overwhelmed. I want it to be amazing for him, but I’ve never actually thrown a surprise party before.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” he said, settling back into hisseat, like the decision had been made. “Just two people planning an epic party over dinner.”
“Epic might be a bit ambitious.” I chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not exactly the world’s most experienced party planner.”
“Okay, fine.” He smiled, pulling out of the parking spot. “Two friends planning anadequatebirthday party.”
“Exactly.” I laughed, warmth spreading in my chest as we pulled onto the street.
26
OWEN
I unlockedthe door to my apartment and pushed it open, feeling a flicker of nerves kick in as I stepped aside to let Lucy in.
