Her palm pressed against his defined pectorals and her breath caught. She lifted her chin to look into his deep blue eyes. For a friend, he was awfully friendly. “Owen?” She wanted to ask him what this meant and why, when she was close to him, her head swam. But nothing came out of her mouth.
His eyes searched every centimeter of her face. With a quick move, he kissed her cheek and set her at arm’s length. “Night.” He slammed his helmet back in place, fired up the bike, and took off like she had threatened to spray him with a fire hose.
If anyone needed a good dosing, it would be her. Her cheek burned with joy. She placed her hand over the skin his lips had touched, wanting to cradle the tender new feeling. “Owen Mattox, what are you doing to me?”
He didn’t turn the bike around to answer her. She slowly sat on the steps and listened until the sound of his motorcycle faded away and the crickets came out again. The scent of the exhaust hung back, and on the edges of that was the smell of his soap. She sniffed her forearm, noting that her skin had picked up his scent when she’d hugged herself against him on the bike.
Owen’s signals were mixed at best. She needed help to figure this out. With a jump, she headed inside and straight to her computer, where she Googled everything from “Friendzone” to “How to get a guy to notice me.” When her results yielding nothing concrete, she vowed to turn to the library stacks. Surely there was a book that could help her through this jumbled mess of feelings and hormones. Surely.
Chapter Twelve
“He says he wants to be friends?”
“Yep.” Bree stood in the middle of the living room, wearing a sports bra and boy shorts while Mom pinned fabric sections in place, frowned, and adjusted. The blinds were closed and the lights were turned on.
Mom was working for an A-line skirt that was long enough to hike in but not so long that it would impede movement. Pleats were a major possibility.
Bree giggled. “I have a football player for a friend.”
Mom arched an eyebrow. “Are you certain you’rejustfriends?”
“Completely certain.”
“Tell your giggle that.”
“Mom! I’m just happy. I’ve never been friends with a jock before.”
Mom’s forehead puckered. “Is that what you see in him? His athletic-ness?”
Bree shook her head, her hair flowing over her shoulders. She liked the feel of it down—when she wasn’t at work. At work, her hair got in the way, dropping into craft glue or being grabbed by a toddler to get her attention. But when she was out and might run into her new friend, she liked having it down. “He’s … nice. He cooked me dinner and—” She almost saidhe took me for a ride on his motorcycle,but caught herself. As close as she was with her mom, there were some things a woman didn’t need to share. “—he polkas.”
“I think I’d like to meet thisfriend.”
Bree put her hands on her hips. The fabric moved with her. Mom was on to something with this design. However, now was not the time to sidetrack the conversation. “Mom—I’m not twelve.” And Owen had asked some leading questions about her mom, like he didn’t trust her. Even though he couldn’t not trust someone he’d never met. Still … he would resist the meeting. She could feel it.
“I know.” Mom stepped back, tipped her head, and studied the possibilities hanging on Bree’s hips. “I’ll back off—but remember the kiss rule.”
Bree scoffed at the reminder. She and Mom promised—way back in the day when Mom started dating again—that if they got to the point where they kissed a man, then they would introduce him to the other. Bree had met several of Mom’s kissables, and Mom had met most of hers. Again, there were some things a woman didn’t need to tell her mother. “That won’t be an issue.”
“Tell your smile—it pops up when you’re thinking about him.”
“I’m just excited to have a friend—he’s different from my regular social group.”
“Okay, love. Hold still so I don’t poke you.”
Bree sucked in a breath and held it while Mom put in another section of fabric and created the pleat. Since she was basically a mannequin, she let her mind wander to riding behind Owen the other night. Hugging him was like hugging a giant, firm teddy bear with stuffing in all the right places. And that kiss, even if it was just to her cheek, lit a fire in her belly that slowly burned all night long.
Yes, being friends with Owen was a thrill. He came from a world where sharing physical affection was part of a friendship, which seemed so mature compared to her small life. Most men kept her far enough away that affection wasn’t possible. Owen gathered her right in next to him—welcomed her into his personal space as if she belonged there. There weren’t many people who accepted her on that level, and it made her feel … special. She was pretty sure he treated everyone he met the same way, but that didn’t matter. She’d take a friend like him any and every day.
She caught her beaming reflection in the mirror and rolled her eyes. What was she supposed to do? Ignore the fact that Owen made her happy? That was silly. Better to just enjoy the ride.
Chapter Thirteen
Owen lazily cruised the aisles of the local supermarket. He ordered most of his supplements and protein powders online and had pantry supplies delivered, but fresh produce and meat were a must. That, and he didn’t have anything else to do today.
The off-season could drive him nuts. Other guys spent the time traveling with their families or working on self-promotion, and a few volunteered. He just didn’t have a hobby or a charity that was his own. Last off-season he’d worked on the house plans with the architect.
He turned down the cereal aisle to see if there was a new flavor of Cheerios. Huh. Peach? He reached for a box.