Page 53 of Single Girl in the City
He was quiet for a moment. “I go to Sip Me every morning. There’s no Tess working there.” She looked up and there was a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. “It’s yours if you want it, Angel.”
“Thanks, but I’m good.”
“Are you?” She was so far from good that when she glanced up, he looked a little blurry. He reached out and, with his thumb, wiped a tear away and that’s when she realized she was crying. There was no build-up and no sniffles, just a few tears leaking from her eyes. “My offer is no different than you and your good Samaritan acts.”
There was a difference. A big one. She was holding on to a secret, one that would change the way he felt about her, so she didn’t deserve his offer.
Chapter Eighteen
Happy Things:
Marathon napping
Later that night, Owen found himself in his office after closing. He hadn’t necessarily thought that Abi had been avoiding him all night, but he hadn’t caught so much as a glimpse of those sexy boots since the parking lot. Until he walked into his office.
It was well after last call, the night already faded into early morning, and there she was asleep on his couch—or attempting to sleep.
Her eyes were shut and she was quietly snoring, but she hadn’t stayed still more than twenty minutes at any one time before rolling over. Which was always followed by a barely audible moan before she’d drift back into a wisp of sleep.
If she’d looked tired in the parking lot, then she looked absolutely exhausted now. The kind of bone-deep exhaustion that came from deep disappointment and heartache. Hell, his heart ached for her and he didn’t even know her whole story—only that it would piss him off.
It was rare that Owen found himself on unsure footing. Typically, if something needed to be done, he handled it himself. If there was a problem, he knew the solution. He had a massive problem on his hands and not a single clue as to how to solve it.
He’d spent the past eight years putting his own needs and wants on the back burner. But he wanted Abi. He wanted her safe and he wanted her in his bed. He’d known this deep down the first time he walked into Sip Me and she’d served him with a shy smile.
Oh, there wasn’t a shy bone in her body, but that day she’d been shy. The next day she’d been aloof until she’d eventually turned salty. Which only intrigued him more because it meant he got to her just like she got to him. Before long, he’d adjusted his schedule to match hers. She both fascinated and amused him. Tonight, she worried him.
She held her body taut, her face was pinched, and her legs moved restlessly, back and forth as if unable to find a comfortable place to land. That he wanted to be that place surprised him.
She’d already turned down his offer to stay in the apartment and, stubborn as she was, his gut told him she’d turn him down again.
She associated accepting help with being weak and she was determined not to take up too much space in people’s lives. The conversation with her sister made that clear. Then he came along and implied that he didn’t have the extra space for a relationship. He wasn’t looking to commit, he didn’t have the bandwidth for that, but he also didn’t want to be another person who pushed her aside when her time was up.
Reason number 397 to keep things simple. She had enough to deal with besides some guy who told her he wanted her in his bed but not his life. He’d been on the receiving end of that scenario, and it blew.
As if on cue, Abi stirred, gripping her bad wrist before rolling onto her back. Her eyes squeezed shut with pain, but she remained in this constant state between barely awake and acutely aware. He’d overheard that she was sleeping on her sister’s couch and wondered if this was what she suffered through every night.
She was so petite he could have slid on the couch with her, but that didn’t make a couch a suitable place to sleep.
Owen had already turned off the overhead lights, just using his desk lamp to see as he put in some time on inventory. Abi had only been there for a week and already she’d streamlined his system, organizing his office so that Nora could eventually pitch in. And as much as that should freak him out, he was surprisingly calm about the whole thing.
Abi did that. She had this way of making things easier. And not just as an employee, but also as a friend. It was in her nature to care—for the people in her life and strangers alike. She was a lot like his dad that way, generous and selfless to a fault. Between the tea shop, working at the senior center, and Stout, her schedule was jam-packed, yet she still found the time to help with her niece and nephew and do kind things for strangers.
He wondered when someone had last done something kind for her. He sure hadn’t. He’d been so busy trying to keep her firmly in the friend zone that he’d done more pushing than giving. And that stopped now.
He clicked closed the laptop and walked to the couch, sitting next to her. He tucked her hair behind her ear and quietly said, “Abi?” When she didn’t so much as move, he ran a hand down her arm. “Angel?”
Her lashes fluttered open and she blinked sleepily up at him. Her lipstick was long gone, her mascara slightly smudged, and her hair had come undone from its band and was tousled. She looked sexy and fragile as hell.
“Owen?” she asked, her voice rough with exhaustion. “Are you really here?”
Yes, she was sleep drunk and yes, it was understandable that she was unsure of her surroundings, but the question didn’t track. He didn’t know why, but it inspired questions of its own. “I’m here.”
“Oh.” She rubbed her eyes with her right hand and grimaced. “I thought I was dreaming.”
“While I like the fact that I star in your dreams, how do you feel?”
“A little tired but—” She abruptly sat up, then clutched her ribs. “Ouch.”
