Broken Beautiful Hearts(29)
“Where are you going?” Cam looks worried.
I nod in the direction of the barn and lower my voice. “Over there. I’m not interested in joining the cast of this soap opera.”
“I’ll come with you.” Cam grabs a beer from one of his buddies.
“Hang out with your friends. I’m fine.”
Cam lets me go, but he stays in the same spot, craning his neck until it’s too dark to see me.
I yank on the sides of the brace as I trek through the muddy grass—at least I hope it’s mud. Finding a position that will make this stupid thing more comfortable is impossible. If my future on the soccer field weren’t at stake, I would’ve trashed it already. I lean forward and give the brace a hard pull as I turn the corner. I look up in time to see a figure coming toward me in the darkness, but it’s too late to stop. Our bodies collide and I lose my balance.
“Shit!” a guy calls out.
My knee buckles and I reach for the side of the barn, but my fingers barely graze the wood.
I fall backward and my mind flashes on the image of Reed standing at the top of the steps. My back hits something, and suddenly I’m being lifted. I blink hard, my eyes adjusting to the contrast between the darkness and the glow of the moonlight.
Owen looks down at me, his chest only inches from mine. His fingers press against the curve of my waist, and I realize his arm is behind me. My palms turn cold and clammy, and my stomach feels like a twisted towel waiting for someone to finish wringing it out.
“Sorry. I was reading a text.” Owen steps back as if he’s checking for injuries, and recognition flickers in his eyes. “Twice in one day. You must think I’m an ass.”
“You just startled me,” I manage, disentangling myself from him.
I take in the tousled dirty-blond hair that curls at his collar, his square jaw, and those warm brown eyes. It’s hard to see them in the dark, but I remember from the football stadium.
He’s gorgeous—the kind of gorgeous reserved for guys who don’t know it.
“If we’re going to spend this much time together, you should probably know my name.” He holds out his hand. “Owen Law.”
I offer him mine, and his fingers curl around my wrist, grazing my pulse point.
“I’m Peyton.”
Owen gives me a sheepish smile. “I know all about you.”
CHAPTER 12
Sky Full of Stars
OWEN’S HAND LINGERS around mine a moment longer than I expect.
“You know what about me, exactly?” I ask.
And should I be worried?
“Well, I know the Twins are your cousins and you’re staying with them. And I know your name. I guess that’s not much, but it’s something.”
His phone rings, startling us both, and my hand slips out of his.
Owen answers and holds up a finger, indicating he wants me to wait. He offers the caller a gruff “hi.”
Trekking through the grass took a toll on my knee, and I search for a place to sit. A tower of hay bales stacked against the barn is my only option.
“I don’t want to talk about this again,” Owen says under his breath, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. “I need time to figure it out.”
Sitting behind a barn in the dark, listening to a guy blow off his girlfriend, is too awkward for me. I start to get up.
Owen notices and abruptly ends the call. “I gotta go.”
“Fighting with your girlfriend?” I ask in a way that comes off sounding more like a statement than a question.
He drops down on the hay bale next to mine, stretching his long legs in front of him, without giving me an answer. He notices that I’m still perched on the end of the bale. “I just sat down. If you take off now, I’ll think it’s because of me.”
“Maybe it is.” I keep my tone light and I scoot back just enough to make it clear that I’m undecided.
“Give me a minute and I’ll walk back with you and protect you from the bears.”
Bears?
My eyes dart to the tree line past the main barn. This is Tennessee—trees, forests, and the Blue Ridge Mountains. With my luck, I’ll walk away and end up getting mauled.
I settle back against the hay.
Owen looks up at the sky and studies it with an intensity that makes me wonder if he’s thinking about more than the stars. I’ve never seen a sky so dark or stars so bright. Without traffic lights or fast-food signs on every block, the moon is the only thing competing with the constellations.
“Ever feel like you’re screwed no matter what you do?” Owen’s question comes out of nowhere.
All the time. Part of me wants to say it out loud. “Once in a while.”
“Any advice?” He gives me a half smile.
I don’t know this guy, but he seems nice—and unhappy. I can relate. He’s waiting for me to respond. I shrug. “Sometimes life only gives you two options. Bad or worse. So you go with bad.”
“Makes sense.” He studies me like he’s taking inventory, checking off boxes on a mental list. The competitor in me wonders how I’m scoring. What if I’m giving him advice about his girlfriend, possibly a delightful friend of April’s?
The faint sound of laughter from the party floats through the air.