It’s not productive to even think of him.
I’m wasting precious thinking time on him.
I shall use that thinking time on someone even more unattainable—Chris Evans.
“Because Chris Evans is an ass man,” I say only to myself, which is why I laugh like I told a really great joke.
When my time is up, I step off the treadmill and sanitize everything before gathering my things. I have two book bags, one for work and one for school, and then there’s my workout bag, so I look like a bag lady as I shut off the lights and head out of the gym. I make sure everything is locked before I tuck my keycard into my pocket. I’m heading toward the exit that leads to the parking lot and my office, where I need to drop off some stuff before heading home, when I notice someone coming down the other hall.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
In a gray tailored suit, a dark-blue shirt underneath with the first three buttons open, Owen is walking, his hair still wet and pushed to the side of his head. He’s on his phone, not paying attention to me or even where he is going. Which is why he runs right into me.
I squeak like a damn toy as he yells, “Oh shit! Oh fuck, Paxy. My bad. I didn’t see you.” His eyes move along me as his brow rises. “What are you doing here?”
Unable to point to the gym since I have so many bags on my arms, I say, “I was working out.”
“This late?”
“I had a paper due.”
“A paper due? You’re in school? I thought you worked here?”
I nod. “I do. I’m an intern, future researcher. I graduate this May.”
“Oh, cool,” he says with a nod, and I just look up at him.
I seemed to have forgotten how tall he is.
And how yummy he looks in a suit.
When a grin moves across his lips, I’m breathless. “Yeah. So, I’ll see—”
“I’m proud of you,” I blurt out, and he stops mid-step from where he was trying to go around me.
He looks at me, confused, before tucking his phone into his pocket and crossing his arms over his chest. “What?”
I clear my throat of the lump trying to choke me and embarrass me at this moment. “I saw your press conference. Evan is so lucky to have you as a brother.”
Something moves in his eyes as he looks down at the floor. “Oh. Thanks.”
“Really, Owen, that was awesome, and you were so supportive when he told you. I know it wasn’t easy to hear, nor deal with. I know how close y’all are.”
His lips curve, and he nods slowly. “Yeah, he’s my best friend.”
“I know. But…yeah, just wanted to say that.”
“Thanks,” he says, meeting my gaze. “You sounded like my mom.”
I bring my brows in, confused. “Huh?”
“When you said ‘y’all.’ My mom says it like that.”
A grin moves over my face, and he smiles just as widely at me. “I love your mom.”
“She’s perfect.”
“She is,” I agree. “How are you?”
He shrugs. “I’m all right. I miss him, and things seem kind of off.”
“That’s understandable.”
“But we talk daily. We were actually just texting about the game.”
“That’s awesome!” I say a little too enthusiastically, which makes me feel like an idiot. I look away, shaking my head as I say, “Yeah. So, I’ll let you go.”
He jerks his thumb to the exit door. “You leaving?”
“No. Well, yes, but not yet. I’m going to my office to drop off a few things before I head home.”
His eyes change, almost in a protective way. Or maybe I’m imagining it. “I can walk with you.”
I wave him off quickly. “Oh no. You just played a game. I’m sure you’re tired.”
He shrugs. “I’m fine. I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I am,” I promise. “I have pepper spray and a stabbing key chain,” I say, showing him, and he grins.
I expect him to agree and leave, but neither of us moves. When I look up, his gaze is on me, those blue eyes intoxicating.
“Why do you have so many bags?” he asks, looking me over once more, and I’m sure he’s enjoying my look. Baggy sweatshirt and sweats, with the bottoms of my pants tucked into my socks and bitching pink Chucks.
“It’s my school bag, work bag, and workout bag. Oh, and my purse.”
He grins. “You look like a bag lady.”
I giggle as I nod. “I know. I thought the same thing when I was gathering everything up.”
“You know we have lockers, and you don’t even need a lock. It’s safe here.”
“Oh, I didn’t. I’ll do that.”
More silence as we stare at each other. I don’t know what is happening or even why we are staring at each other like this. I feel like if I move first, I’m losing, so I don’t move.
He lifts his chin at me. “You wore all that to work out in?”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “Yeah, I wear black so it’s a funeral for my fat.”
Owen’s eyes light up, grinning from ear to ear. “I say that too, but I work out in just shorts. Oh, and my Chucks. I sweat just the same.”
I shall act as if I didn’t hear him or even that I’m not imagining him all sweaty and sexy as he works out. Instead, I roll my eyes. “I can’t work out in just shorts. I have boobs.”
“Which is why there are bras.”
Wow, this turned dirty. Or maybe that’s how I want it to turn. “So, are you suggesting I work out in a bra and shorts?”
His lips turn up at the sides, showing that one damn dimple that I swear will haunt me in my sleep tonight. “I am.”
“Okay,” I say sarcastically as I laugh. “That’s not going to happen.”
He makes a face. “Well, that’s unfortunate.”
As he starts to walk backward, I raise a brow at him. “Is it?”
“Yeah, because then I’d make sure to come work out at the same time you’re here.”
I am fully taken aback by his comment. But before I can attempt to come back with something even the least bit productive, he goes out the side door. “See ya, Paxy.”
As the door slams shut, I’m left standing in the hall, downright confused.
Was Owen Adler hitting on me?
Oh, I must be dehydrated.
Chapter Six
Owen
* * *
Evan’s been gone for two weeks.
It’s been three weeks since he told me he was leaving.
And to say I’m still overwhelmed is an understatement.
The media has been an absolute train wreck. They come at me from every angle possible. I never know what I am going to get. It’s either really positive and everyone is supportive, or I’m dealing with complete fucking assholes. If one more person asks me if my brother is weak, I may go to jail. My mom is so worried about me, my dad calls me daily to tell me he’s proud of me, and when my sisters and younger brother call, they’re making sure I haven’t gone to jail yet. Evan, well…when he calls, we don’t even talk about it. We ignore the outside world and talk about games and hockey in general. Or whatever. Anything but the media and the fact that he isn’t here.