Soft Shock (19 page)

Marci couldn’t
hide a smile at this. At least Glenda King did one thing right even if she
didn’t always practice what she preached when it came to not letting the
opinions and prejudgments of others rule her.

Owen searched
her eyes with his own before adding, “I’ve never met anyone quite like you. And
I am so very glad our
paths
crossed. In fact, I’d like
to think they were meant to.”

Oh no. They
weren’t going down this dangerous path. “You were in a football uniform in one
of those pictures in the living room, weren’t you?” she asked.

“I played in
high school.”

“What was your
position?”

“Quarterback.”

“Oh. Quarterback.
I bet the girls loved you. You were the most popular boy in school, huh? Not
that you needed football to make them love you.”

“You’re always
talking about how attractive I am,” Owen said. She thought there was a hint of
annoyance in his tone, but he covered it up with a laugh if it was there at
all. “You know, in middle school, I was this scrawny short kid with the most
hideous braces you’ve ever seen.”

Marci laughed.
“I don’t believe it.”

“It’s true.”
Propping his head up on his hand, he looked down at her. “Mouth full of metal.”

“There
aren’t
any pictures downstairs of you looking like that.”

He grinned. “I
tried to get Mom to burn them. The compromise was, she’s moved most of them to
a shoebox that’s safely stowed away in her closet.”

She laughed
harder. “I’m surprised Jeremy hasn’t hunted them up for the purposes of
blackmailing or otherwise sabotaging you.”

Owen’s smile
faded, and he stared down at the patch of sky blue sheet that was visible
between them.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just wondering
where Jeremy might’ve gone.”

Man, she had a
knack for saying the wrong thing tonight. She closed the gap she’d created
between them earlier and placed a hand on his bicep.

Owen lowered
the hand that’d been propping up his head and lay down next to her so that they
were at eye level with each other. “I wonder if I’m being too hard on him.”

“I don’t know
the whole story, but it seems as if you’ve done everything you can for him. I
know you’ve probably done a lot for him, but the one thing you can’t do is make
him want to try harder. To save himself.”

“It’s
just…we’re so quick to throw people away. To assume they’re wastrels.”

“Wastrels?”

“Give me a
break. I’m finishing up an Elizabethan England lit class.” He pulled her close
and rested his chin on top of her head. “Anyway. I wonder if maybe this is his
cry for help, and I’m ignoring it. Maybe he doesn’t know how to save himself.
Maybe he really
does
think we hate
him and we’ve thrown him away and we wish we could trade him for…them.”

“And maybe,
just maybe, you’ve done all you can, and he needs to come around all on his
own. Maybe he needs time to do that, but I think he will. With loving, warm
people in his life like you, your mom, and Ronnie. People with good heads on
their shoulders and good hearts in their chests on his side, I think he has no
choice but to come around eventually.”

He was silent
on that, but he planted a kiss on top of her head.

#

They talked
half the night away, just learning all the little facts about each other they
hadn’t taken the time to learn before that night. They talked about friends,
family—mostly Owen’s family—prom, first kisses, first jobs, what
had brought them to CVU, everything.

Finally, Owen
asked the question that had been burning away in him for a long time. “Why are
you so against relationships?”

“I’m not
against them for other people. They just don’t work for me.” She shrugged. “I
think they’re silly. I mean, what’s the point?
They don’t
last
,
somebody always gets hurt
. You might as
well jump in head first, get to the good part, and get out.”

“That’s a very
bleak way to look at it.”

“How long were
you and Kristin together?” she asked.

He sighed,
sorry he brought the subject up now. “A very long time.” He distracted himself
by weaving his fingers through Marci’s braids.

“And someone
got hurt, right?”

“I guess.” He continued
to concentrate on her hair and avoid her eyes.

“Was it worth
it?”

“The good times?
The feeling of being in love?
There’s a rush—just
this sense of wellness and wholeness that comes from it. I think it’s worth the
pain if it doesn’t all work out.
And the payoff if it does
work?
That’s more than worth the risk. Don’t you want that? That feeling
of being so filled up with someone that’s all you can think about. And knowing
that person is yours the way you belong to them wholeheartedly. Knowing you’re
never truly alone in this world no matter what. How can you not want to
experience that?”

She pulled back
a little. He looked into her eyes and found something he’d never seen there
before because she normally seemed so self-assured—uncertainty. In that
moment, she looked so startled and lost that he almost wondered if she was the
same person he’d gotten into bed with.

“I was in love
once.” She smiled. Her smile faltered but only for a moment so brief he thought
he might have imagined it. “Once was enough.” She turned her back to him but
didn’t scoot away from him.

“Who hurt you?”
he asked, pulling her closer.

“Do you think
I’m cold? Cruel?”

He kissed her
cheek. “No. Why would you even ask that?”

“I’m not trying
to lead you on.”

“I’ve known the
deal from the start. I made the deal, remember?”

“That’s what I
keep telling myself, but somehow, I can’t help but feel that I’m holding you
back.”

“What?”

“Yeah. It
doesn’t make sense to me, either. But that’s how I feel. Like I’m keeping you
from finding something real by holding you to whatever we have.”

“Don’t feel
that way,” he said.

She made a
sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “If only it were that
easy.”

“You’re not
holding me anywhere I don’t want to be held.” He stroked her braids away from
her face. “I would never hurt you.” He kissed her neck tenderly. “In fact, I
think I might—”

“We should try
to get some sleep,” Marci cut him off in a hurry. “It’s past three in the
morning. Wow, how’d it get so late?”

Love you
, he finished silently. “Good
night, Marci,” he said aloud.

“‘Night, Owen.”
She sank back against his chest, and he kissed her cheek before pulling her tightly
to him and settling his head against the pillow.

Chapter Twenty-One

The next
morning, Owen awakened to the sound of a soft, “Oh shit.” He stirred, trying to
get his bearings. He blinked his eyes hard a few times against the slant of
sunlight coming from between the two pale blue curtains across the room. It
took him a few moments to orient himself and remember that he was in bed in the
guestroom at Mom’s house with Marci because of a snowstorm.

“What time is
it?” he asked, squeezing Marci’s shoulder. He didn’t want his mom to find him
here. He was a grown man, but they still both liked to pretend that Owen didn’t
have sex. And ironically although Owen and Marci hadn’t done anything last
night, finding Owen in that room might ruin the little fiction he and his mom
had going.

“A little after
seven,” Marci murmured, clearly distracted by whatever she was listening to on
her phone. She sat straight up in bed. When she turned to him, her eyes were
filled with worry.

He put a hand
on her arm. “What is it?”

“It’s Ronnie.”
She swallowed hard before continuing. “Her uncle is in the hospital. It’s a
long story, but…oh God. I should be there with her.”

“Then I’ll take
you,” Owen said automatically as if it were the natural thing to do and say
because it was.

“They’re in
Jersey.”

“Let me grab a
shower and make some coffee and we’ll go,” Owen said.

She stared at
him as if he were an alien. “You don’t have to.”

“You keep
reminding me of what I don’t have to do.” Owen climbed out of bed and
stretched. “I need to get out of here before Mom catches me in this room, and
we both need to get ready for our road trip to Jersey.”

“Are you sure?”
Marci asked. “I mean, I’m just a…I’m not even your girlfriend.”

“You’re a
friend. You’re not going to get out of that one.”

“But—”

“There are
towels in the linen closet across the hall. Be downstairs in…forty-five
minutes?” Owen glanced over at her.

“Thirty,” she
said. Worrying her dad’s class ring on its chain around her neck, she added,
“Thank you.”

“See you
downstairs,” he said as he exited the room.

#

Later, as they
were leaving the house with a thermos of coffee and a paper bag packed with
Thanksgiving leftovers after explaining the situation to Owen’s mom, they were
confronted with an unexpected sight.

“What are
you
doing here?” Owen asked Jeremy.

“I talked to
Ronnie,” Jeremy said, rubbing his nose that was red presumably from the cold.
“She said you guys were going up. Could I catch a ride?”

Marci watched
Owen who watched Jeremy. Owen’s jaw locked, but he nodded. “For Ronnie’s sake.
She’s been a good friend to you. But I don’t want any of your tantrums on the
way up there.”

Jeremy nodded
empathically. “Thanks. I just want to get to Ronnie as soon as possible. I’ll
sit in the back, you won’t hear a peep out of me.”
Jeremy
jogged/skidded in the direction of the jeep.
Owen tugged his knit hat
over his ears and looked in the direction his brother had gone.

Marci put her
arm around him and said, “He was right about one thing yesterday. Just not the
sarcastic way he said it.”

“What’s that?”
Owen asked. He surveyed the ice-glazed sidewalk instead of looking over at her.

She took in his
profile, the perfect slope of his nose. “You’re golden.
Just
pure good.
One of a kind.”

“You know I
love you, right?” Owen’s gaze locked on hers. “You know that’s what I wanted to
say last night when you stopped me. You don’t have to say it back. You don’t
have to feel it. I just thought you should know.”

Marci was
flooded by so many feelings she couldn’t name. Suddenly, her scarf was too
tight, her hat too hot. “I don’t want to talk about this.” She rushed out the
words.

“Regardless,
you know how I feel now. It’s out there, and there’s no doubt about it.”

“You don’t know
what you’re saying. I don’t think you should take me to New Jersey. I don’t
want you getting any ideas—”

“Oh, just get
in the jeep before I make you,” Owen said. “We’re wasting time.”

“But—”

“Don’t punish
Ronnie for the way I feel about you.”

“I—”

“How else are
you going to get there?”

“I’ll find a
way.”

In answer, Owen
bent and went for her thighs.

“Stop, you
can’t lift me!”

Except, he
could. Owen tossed her over her his strong, capable shoulder like she was an
afterthought and carried her to the passenger side of the jeep without faltering
in the least on the glassy sidewalk. “Are you going to get in now? Or do you
want help with that, too?”

Marci opened
the passenger side door of the jeep and climbed in. Chuckling, he closed the
door after her.

Jeremy was laughing
from the backseat as Owen walked around to the driver’s side.

She whirled
around to face the backseat. “What’s so funny?”

“My brother just
manhandled you.” Jeremy snickered.

“Ha ha,” Marci
said dryly.

The drive to
New Jersey was mostly silent. There was the fact that Owen and Jeremy were
barely on speaking terms—and Marci and Jeremy had never exactly been
friends to begin with. And then there was the news Owen had sprung on Marci
before they’d gotten into the car. What did he mean he loved her? What? Love
was not part of their deal. How could they keep doing what they had been doing
with that hanging between them? They couldn’t. Right? Except, the thing was,
she didn’t want to stop. Maybe she couldn’t. She was a little bit addicted to
the way she felt when they were together. Physically. Yes, physically only.

Marci watched
mile after mile of white trees and semi-white road sludge roll by. She watched the
scenery change as Owen cut from the interstate to back roads whenever he
thought he might know a quicker way to get them north.

Why had he had
to go and ruin things? Whatever they had was a good thing going.
Until now.
They had fun together. He made her laugh. It was
so easy to talk to him.
To just be around him.
And
then he had to go and bring
love
into
it. What the hell? How had she not made it perfectly clear where she stood on
such things?

Deep down, you always knew this would have
to end, didn’t you?
She tried to ignore that nagging voice, but she
couldn’t. Part of her had known from the start. And after Tuesday night, really,
she should’ve seen this coming a mile away.

Besides, to be
perfectly honest with herself, she had to admit that he’d never really lied to
her about any of it. He’d never tried to disguise his feelings. She just tried
to blind herself to them because she wanted what she wanted.

That was all,
right? She wanted the sex. Anything more than that was big trouble she didn’t
want and didn’t need. Man, this was a tangled mess.

She didn’t want
to lose him, but it wasn’t fair to keep him. After all, she’d never intended to
hurt him. This had to end and soon.