Page 6 of Protected by the Loner (The Men of Ghost Security #2)
VIVIAN
T he Aurora Coffee representative sits across from my desk, her tablet displaying charts and projections that make my head spin. Professional, polished, and utterly convinced she’s offering me a gift.
“Miss Gold, I want to be clear about our timeline,” she says, tapping her stylus against the screen. “We need a decision by Friday. This Friday. After that, we’ll have to pursue other options in this area.”
Other options. Like opening their store anyway and watching me slowly go out of business.
“I understand. The offer is generous,” I manage.
“Very generous.” She slides another document across my desk. “We’ve done our research, Miss Gold. Your lease renewal is coming up, your customer base is limited, and frankly, your location lacks the foot traffic necessary for sustainable growth.”
Everything she says is true, which makes it worse. If I could hold out for six, maybe nine months, I know I’ll get out of the red. I have faith in my coffee shop and this neighborhood—I just need time.
“I’ll be in touch,” I say, standing and extending my hand. At this point, I don’t care if I’m being rude, but I need this meeting to be over. It’s not like she had new information. When she requested this meeting, I knew it was just another strong-arm tactic.
I sigh as I join Mika behind the counter, frustration vibrating through my body. I hate that Aurora Coffee knows I’m struggling.
I automatically scan the crowd for a familiar figure in dark clothes, but it’s clear Owen isn’t going to show up today, either.
My chest twists—part anger, part grief, part heat I can’t seem to kill. We had sex. Not fumbling, forgettable sex. It was hot and consuming, so much so that it was almost terrifying in its intensity. And then...nothing. He vanished. Not a text. Not a smile across the counter. Nothing.
I force a smile for my customers, but inside I’m screaming—at Aurora Coffee for their ultimatum, at Owen for disappearing when I thought we had a real connection, and at myself for believing in fairy tales.
“Hey,” Mika says during a brief lull, glancing around the shop. “Have you seen Owen today? He usually comes in by now, right?”
I bite back a bitter laugh. “He hasn’t been in for a week.”
“A week?” She pauses in wiping down the espresso machine. “That’s weird. When was the last time he didn’t come in?”
Never. Owen Blake has been as reliable as sunrise for six months.
“I don’t know what’s going on with him,” I say, which is technically true even if it’s not the whole story.
Mika studies my face with an insight that makes me uncomfortable. “You okay? You look like you haven’t slept.”
“I’m fine,” I say, brushing away my feelings. “Just stressed aboutthe Aurora Coffee situation.”
She doesn’t look convinced. “Vivian, what happened last week? You said Owen came over to help with your laptop, right? And now he’s suddenly avoiding the shop like it’s radioactive?”
Heat crawls up my neck. Of course, Mika would connect the dots. She’s been watching Owen and me dance around each other for months.
“It’s complicated.”
“Complicated how? Did he try something? Because I will absolutely—”
“No, nothing like that.” I interrupt quickly.
Right now, I need to focus on saving my business, not my broken heart.
That night, I’m curled up on my couch with a glass of wine that’s definitely not my first, laptop balanced on my knees while I pretend to researchAurora Coffee’s offer.
The numbers blur together on the screen, but my brain keeps drifting to Owen’s mouth on my skin.
His weight pinning me down. The memory of the hottest sex I’ve ever had.
Anger, sadness, lust, and frustration cycle through me. I want answers.
My phone buzzes with a FaceTime call from Sadie. Her familiar face fills the screen, dark hair pulled back in a messy bun, eyebrows already raised in concern.
“You look like hell,” she says without preamble.
“Thanks, you’re a real confidence booster.” I take another sip of wine. “It’s been a week.”
“Want to tell me about it?”
The question opens a floodgate I didn’t realize I’d been holding back.“Aurora Coffee gave me an ultimatum. I have until Friday to accept their buyout offer, or they’ll open their store anyway and watch me slowly die.”
“Oh, Viv. I’m so sorry. That sucks.” Sadie settles back in her kitchen chair, a steaming mug in her hands. “But I’m sensing there’s more.”
Of course, she can read me through a phone screen. We’ve been friends since college, and Sadie always knows when I’m upset or holding back.
“Owen hasn’t been in for a week.”
“Owen being...”
“The tech guy. The one who recovered the files on my laptop, and...” I close my eyes. “The one who gave me the best sex of my life and then ghosted me like I was nothing.”
Sadie’s expression shifts from casual concern to laser focus. “Back up. Start from the beginning.”
So I do. I tell her about Owen’s quiet competence during the blackout, his fierce determination when he offered to help with my laptop.
“And Sadie,” I say, closing my eyes for a long moment at the intensity of the memory. At the surprising jolt of lust and something deeper when he called me his Good Girl. “The sex was, in the truest sense of the word, mind-blowing. I’ve never experienced anything like that. Ever.”
“He sounds incredible,” Sadie says when I pause for breath. “So what went wrong?”
“That’s what I want to know.” I drain my wine glass. “One night, I’m having the hottest sex of my life, and he’s making me feel things I never thought were possible. The next day, he’s gone. No texts. No coffee. Nothing.”
I pause, then force out the words that have been eating at me. “Maybe it was like in college, where a guy would like me, but he’d flee after we had sex. Like ‘Oh, you’re fun and I like you…but you’re too fat to be my girlfriend.’ You remember how it was for me.”
Sadie’s expression sharpens with protective fury. “Vivian Gold, you stop that right now.”
“I’m just saying—”
“No. Absolutely not.” Sadie leans forward, her voice fierce.
“He would be lucky to have you, and you know it. You’re gorgeous and talented and funny and kind.
And from everything you’ve told me so far, it sounds as if he likes you deeply.
Don’t let the ghost of jerks past influence what might have happened with Owen. ”
“But what if—”
“What if nothing. Don’t assume the worst. Now, ghosting you for a week isn’t great, but maybe there’s an explanation.”
I roll my eyes. There is never a good outcome if you ask a man why he’s ghosted you.
“I see you rolling your eyes at me. If you felt a deep connection, so did he. That’s not something that happens in a vacuum. Don’t you think it’s worth finding out?”
Sadie’s question slices through my insecurities, forcing me to remember the wonder in Owen’s eyes when he looked at me—like I was gorgeous and amazing, not a consolation prize.
“Yes,” I admit quietly.
“Then stop borrowing trouble from assholes who don’t deserve a second of your mental energy.” Sadie’s voice softens. “Vivian, did it occur to you that maybe this wasn’t about you at all?”
I blink at her through the screen. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, maybe Owen Blake, brilliant, sexy man, panicked because he cares about you too much to risk screwing it up.”
I snort-laugh. That’s what women always want to believe, that it’s some easily fixable misunderstanding or that a guy has a valid reason to suddenly disappear.
As if taking ten seconds to send a text is too much effort.
But that possibility has been lurking in the back of my mind for three days, and I’ve dismissed it entirely.
Listening to Sadie makes me rethink everything. “Even if that’s true, he still left.”
She leans forward, her expression shifting from sympathy to determination. “The question is, what are you going to do about it?”
“What can I do? Show up at his office, and what, beg him to give me another chance? Walk in there and yell at him?”
“I would say beg. Maybe you show him that whatever scared him away doesn’t have to be scary.
” Her voice carries the kind of fierce affection that makes my chest tight.
“You said he helped you when you needed it. Maybe now he needs help. And you said you had to make the first move to kiss him, so maybe you need to do that now.”
Do I want a man who always makes me take the lead? I pause. I may have taken the lead in kissing him first, but he sure took control after I did. “Sadie, I barely know this guy. What if I’m reading everything wrong?”
“In your heart, do you think that’s what you’re doing?”
“No,” I say quietly. “I don’t think I am.”
“Then fight for him.” Sadie’s voice is gentle but certain. “You deserve someone who fights for you, Viv. Men can be idiots, and sometimes, we have to show them how it’s done.”
“What if he rejects me again?”
“Then at least you’ll know. But what if he doesn’t?”
Tomorrow, I’m going to find Owen Blake and fight for him. The man set my soul on fire, and I’m not ready to give up.