Page 18 of Pick Me

The car ride home had started off with a brief conversation about the air-conditioning being slow and then settled into a

painful silence.

Not at all surprising, seeing as Owen had backed away from the kiss.

No, the truth was he’d actually pushed me away.

Sure, he’d been caught off guard by me flinging myself at him at first because I’d given him zero warning. I was even a little surprised by it. But within a heartbeat, Owen was matching my intensity, claiming my mouth like the kiss

had been his idea.

Then he’d abruptly stepped away from me and pulled the back of his hand across his mouth, like he wanted to get rid of any

traces of me. He’d mumbled an apology as he gathered Cedar’s reins when I was the one who owed it to him.

I tried to make sense of what I’d done as I stared out the car window, watching the countryside speed past. I was horny, sure,

but the roiling confusion inside of me pointed to other motivations. I hadn’t just wanted it ; I needed to admit to myself that I’d wanted him .

Based on his reaction, it was totally one-sided. I was morti fied. If there was any moment to address my sloppy come-on, it was now.

I took a deep breath. “That wasn’t cool of me, Owen. What I did out on the trail. I’m sorry.”

I wasn’t sure if I actually was sorry, because at the time I’d been sort of desperate to see what kissing him was like.

Owen’s jaw flexed, and his expression shifted to a frown. “It’s fine. No big deal.”

“I overstepped. I got caught up in the fake dating of it all.”

A shrug in response. “It happens.”

He was right; kissing was definitely a part of fake dating, but usually it led to a deeper connection, not mortification.

“Do you hate me?” I asked in a quiet voice.

He made a frustrated noise and glanced over at me. “No, of course not. Not at all.”

I wasn’t sure what to say next since “Was it good for you?” didn’t feel appropriate.

Owen scrubbed his hand across his cheek. “Listen, Brooke, I need to put this out there right now. You came to me for lessons

because you’re into Kai, and I’ll do everything I can to help you make a connection with him. But I’m not about to be your

runner-up or help you pass the time until you can get to him. Not after what I’ve been through. I humiliated myself with Sophie. It was disgusting. I swore I’d never let it happen again.”

I started to answer him but he kept talking.

“Kind of funny that all went down at the barn. Like history repeating itself, you know? I got burned by the love triangle

thing bad, and I promised myself I’d never let it happen to me again.”

“But that’s not what—”

Owen silenced me with a pointed look.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yup. At least you get it. Sophie seemed to enjoy the drama.” Owen frowned.

“And I was such a fool for letting it go on for so long. I kept thinking she’d figure out that I was the better match for her.

Pick me , you know? And she did, for a little while.

She’d complain to me about Josh, how awful he was to her. ” He shook his head.

“Guess she got over that.”

“Do you want to talk about... the news?” I asked tentatively.

“I don’t give a shit that they’re engaged,” he fired back, sounding like he did. “But seeing him was a reminder of what I

let her do to me. I willingly subjected myself to it. I’m still mad at me for being such a fool.” He smacked his palm to his chest hard enough that I wondered if it hurt.

“Anyway, you get where I’m coming from,” he added.

I’d never been in any part of a love triangle, so I didn’t actually. I’d written a few, but seeing the collateral damage up

close made me never want to again.

“It was a mistake. I’m a mess, sorry,” I said quietly, slumping in my seat. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

“Yeah, you do,” he replied. “You’re going to perfect your pickleball game, woo your muse, and write a bestseller. Easy.”

I leaned my head against the window. “Yeah, right. Easy.”

Plus, I needed to cauterize whatever confusing Owen feelings were waking up inside of me.

“Hey, you learned how to pick hooves today. That’ll help with your word count, right?”

I snorted. “Oh, for sure. The bonding scene between Austin and Abby is going to be amazing, cruddy horse feet notwithstanding.”

I paused. “But after that? I’ve got nada.”

“And that’s where our buddy Kai comes in. Speaking of, let’s get your first game on the books. I’ll text you a list of public courts and you let me know what works for you.”

He looked so grim that I wished I could give him a hug. But actually not, since I now knew what it could lead to.

“You’re doing too much. Seriously.”

Owen met my gaze, softening a little. “I’m helping a friend. Plus, it’s sort of fun experiencing the back end of book world.

The writer’s struggle. How the sausage gets made.”

Sausage. Why was I cursed with a mind that couldn’t stop conjuring up dad joke double entendres?

“You’ll be my first thank-you in the acknowledgments for sure,” I said. “You’re my pickleball gateway drug.”

“Ah, so you’re addicted to the game now? It’s not all for Kai?”

I blushed a little at how shallow it sounded coming out of Owen’s mouth. It wasn’t exactly “all for Kai,” at least not anymore.

My feelings for playing had shifted since the first time I picked up a paddle.

“Well, now that I’ve discovered that I have a tiny bit of coordination, I do like it.”

“Tiny bit?” Owen scoffed at me. “Please. It’s like a switch flipped. I’m getting scared of you.”

“Yeah, right.” I laughed at him.

“I’m serious. Get a couple of games under your belt and my work will be done. You’ll be ready to meet your muse on the court.”

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, deflating a little. “Done? Like the end of my lessons?”

“Oh, not yet, no,” he said quickly. “We still have more polishing to do. But soon.”

We both fell silent as we left the open fields and endless sky behind. I felt a little better about the kiss after talking it through. We were going to forget that it ever happened.

I mean, I could , if it weren’t for the way kissing Owen had made me feel. In the moment? I’d been hungry, a little reckless, hoping it would

go on forever.

And now?

I let my eyes stray to Owen’s hands on the wheel. I could still feel the heat of them on my back. It wasn’t even a long kiss,

maybe five seconds, but I was still dealing with the aftershocks racing through me any time he looked at me.

I’d been caught up in the moment; that’s all it was. My body had merely been reacting to the near-death experience of falling

off a horse and then repackaged the cortisol stress hormones into lovey-dovey dopamine. My breakup with Leo had killed my

libido—I hadn’t recharged my vibrator in months—and the whole kissing-Owen thing was just a biological response after being

deprived of pleasure for too long.

“Hey.” Owen gave me a soft punch to my shoulder. “You look stressed out. It’s all good, don’t worry. You’ll get that muse,

I promise.”

“Thanks, Coach,” I managed, trying to suppress the tumult of emotions he’d woken up inside of me.