Audrey laughed, covering her mouth with her hand. “You made that up.”
Owen took her laughter and ran with it. “Did not—she follows me on Insta.” Even as he spoke, he pulled his phone out and tapped on the app, typed in her name, and brought up her profile picture. “See?” He laid the phone on the table for the ladies to peruse and stuffed five fries in his mouth at once in triumph. They were officially hooked into a conversation. ‘Bout time.
Bree shuddered. “Not to be rude, but she looks like she torments small animals for fun and uses her own hair to make tea.”
He gagged and grabbed for his drink. “Thanks for the mental image, but yeah.”
“Wait.” Audrey grabbed the phone. “You’re the Lone Ranger? I’ve heard of you.”
“I’m flattered.” He wasn’t. Anyone who lived in Texas knew the Titans, and his name was a big part of the team.
“Yeah, I watched you play at Texas A&M.”
He offered her a fist bump. “Go, Aggies.” Being recognized for his college years was so much fun. College was a time to prove himself, the development years. He had to fight for every minute of playtime, and then he had to prove he deserved it. He was really proud of what he’d done at A&M.
“What about you?” he asked Bree. There was a part of him that hoped she was an Aggie too. That would be unanticipated but not unwelcome.
“Texas.”
He dropped his jaw and put both hands over his heart. Ah, the rival. “How are you two even friends?”
Bree lifted her chin, elongating her neck like a swan. The move was graceful and elegant with a little haughty thrown in. She captured his attention, and he knew he’d be replaying that moment again when he was biking in the morning. “We both work at the library.”
“Coworkers, then?”
They both nodded.
He found himself thinking she was cute in her indignation, like when she’d been on the bike. Just … cute. And because all he wanted to do was lean back in his seat, throw his arm across the back of the bench, and chat it up with Bree, he hastened to his feet. “Thanks for the conversation, ladies.” He yanked his tray off the table and dumped the contents in the garbage on his way out the glass doors.
The warm evening air brought him back to his senses. He wasn’t into cute. Cute was … dangerous.
* * *
Bree followed Owen’s hasty departure with her eyes. The booth now seemed to dwarf the two of them with the empty space he left behind. “That was weird.”
Audrey flipped around. She too had been mesmerized by Owen’s appearance, ability to consume food quickly, and then exodus. Or perhaps she was captivated by his size. Up close, he was a monument to the capabilities of the human body. “What was weird?”
“That!” Bree threw her arm toward the door. She glanced down at her outfit, the long, tiered skirt and peasant blouse drawn in by a wide leather belt. She wore the outfit on Mondays because it was comfortable and she could move easily. Monday was Books and Tots day, and she needed to move quickly when there were toddlers involved. Now she wished she’d changed clothes to look less like a Mathilda Frankenspiel and more like the model Owen thought she was at the expo.
Audrey stared at her, baffled. “He’s just being friendly.”
“Of course you would think so—you’re delightful inside and out.” Bree shrank into the padded seat. “But unfamiliar men do not approach me on a regular basis.”
“You’re adorable.”
“Perhaps.” She was small in stature and thin, like a teenager. No, worse—a preteenager. “But adorable doesn’t translate to dateable. I’m puppy cute. Yay, play with the cute little puppy. But it takes a special person to want to take a puppy home.”
“Oh, stop! You are not a puppy.”
She sank lower. “I feel like a puppy. Especially around guys like him.”
Audrey’s eyes glinted with mischief. “If you mean your tongue hangs out, then yeah. I can see it.”
Bree covered her hot cheeks with her cold hands.
Audrey laughed. “Admit it, he’s hot.”
“I can admit he’s extremely attractive, and the only reason I can say that is because I will never see him again.”