Page 7 of Protected by the Loner (The Men of Ghost Security #2)

OWEN

“Owen.” The client’s voice is flat through the video call speaker. “You’ve already explained this...twice.”

I blink at the screen, my throat dry. I’ve been rambling. This is not who I am. The security diagram on my tablet is starting to blur, my own handwriting illegible.

Shit. I can’t believe my personal life, such as it was with Vivian, is affecting me this way.

“We’ll need to reschedule,” I cut myself off abruptly, heat crawling up my neck. “Apologies. I’ll send over a written report.”

The client blinks, clearly irritated but relieved to end the call. The screen goes dark.

I slump back in my chair, dragging both hands down my face. What the fuck am I doing? I never fumble like this. Work is the one place I don’t screw up. Work is safe. Work doesn’t make me ache the way Vivian does.

It’s been a week. A week since I buried myself inside her, since I heard her luscious lips moan my name. A week of avoiding Daily Brew, pretending I’m fine while my soul aches for her.

I tell myself I can’t go back. That she’s furious. Hell, she should be furious. But all I want is more—more of her, more of us, more of the fire that almost burned me alive.

The door nudges open. Zane leans in, eyebrows up. “Bro.” His gaze slides to the stack of green 16-ounce cans overflowing from my recycling waste basket. “What’s with all the Monster? I thought Daily Brew cured you.”

“Drop it.” I reach for a pen I don’t need.

He steps inside, amused. “No, seriously—” Zane gestures at my bookshelf, which is now restocked with cases of Monster. “How come you’re avoiding Daily Brew?”

“It’s none of your business.”

Zane raises an eyebrow. “Care to elaborate?”

The conference room door opens before I can respond.

Marcus, our newest team member, approaches me with an apologetic expression.

“Sorry to interrupt, but there’s someone downstairs asking for you.

” His voice carries a note of confusion.

“Says she’s from Daily Brew? I told her you were in a meeting, but she says she’ll wait. ”

My blood turns to ice. “Vivian’s here?”

“Pretty blonde, looks determined?” Jake grins. “Your girl came to you.”

“What do I—” I start to stand, then sink back down. “I don’t want to see her. Tell her I’m not available.”

“Like hell.” Knox’s voice is blunt, with no room for negotiation. “Marcus, buzz her in.”

“Wait—”

“Owen.” Jake’s tone is serious. “Don’t be a dick.”

The elevator doors slide open, and I have to catch my breath. Fuck. I’ve missed this woman. She’s wearing dark jeans and a slate-colored sweater, her hair pulled back, her jaw set.

“Vivian.” My voice wavers as I say her name. She doesn’t look happy, which isn’t surprising. No man likes standing in front of a woman who’s angry at him.

“You don’t get to hide from me, Owen.”

No preamble, just right to the point. Conversations around the bullpen taper. I’m distinctly aware that everyone is watching us.

“Not here,” I say, gesturing toward my office. She lets me guide her, but her shoulder is stiff under my palm.

I open my door; she walks in first. I stand there looking at her, speechless and feeling like an absolute fucking idiot. How could I ghost this woman?

She turns to face me. “You vanished.”

“I know.” The apology’s already in my throat. “Vivian, I’m—”

“Don’t say sorry to fill air.” Her voice is steady and even, which makes this almost worse. I never understood what people meant when they said they’d rather someone yell at them than be quiet when they’re clearly angry. “Say what you’re actually apologizing for.”

I swallow. “I’m sorry for not coming in. For not calling. For making you think I regretted that night.”

Her chin lifts a fraction, her eyes hard with challenge. “Did you?”

“No.” The word is easy. The rest isn’t. “Not for a second.”

The line of her shoulders softens by a degree, but the anger in her eyes doesn’t fade. “Then why?”

“Because I was scared.” I hate how small that sounds, but I don’t dress it up. “Of hurting you.”

She holds my stare. “You already did.”

I flinch, but I don’t look away. “I know. I told myself I was protecting you.” I drag a hand through my hair.

“Protecting me from what?” Vivian’s voice rises in frustration.

I take a deep breath. “From me.”

Vivian’s mouth falls open, and she shakes her head. “What on earth…”

“That night—it meant everything. You—” I bite down on too much, try again. “You mean everything.”

Her breath catches. Anger wavers, revealing hurt. “And so you decided that ghosting me was the best way to treat a woman you’d just slept with?”

“No. I…This is the pattern. I’m poison in relationships. Meeting you was…You’re a force of nature. I avoid relationships because I always ruin them,” I force the words out, ugly and honest.

“Shocker,” Vivian says, rolling her eyes.

“I pour myself into work, vanish for days, weeks. I forget dates, birthdays. I told myself if I stepped back now, I wouldn’t put you through that. I told myself disappearing before you were more invested was kinder than disappointing you when I inevitably let you down.”

“You decided for me.”

“Yeah. I was wrong.”

Her gaze flicks to the stacked cans by my trash. A muscle ticks in her jaw. “You know what would’ve been kinder? Walking in for coffee the next morning. Looking me in the eye.”

My pulse is back in my throat. She crosses her arms—not a barricade, more like holding herself together.

“Tell me the truth,” she says. “Did that night mean something to you or not?”

I nod without hesitation. “It absolutely did. I wanted to come back so badly I couldn’t think straight.

I haven’t slept. I’ve been at the office to stop myself from walking through your door and asking you to let me in again.

” I take another careful half step. “I also know I’ve got a history that makes people feel second to a job that eats me alive whenever it wants.

I didn’t want to make you a casualty of that. ”

“Then don’t.”

I huff out a breath that isn’t a laugh. “I don’t know how.”

“Then we figure it out together.” She uncrosses her arms. Her mouth softens, but her eyes stay steady. “I’m not a fling you regret, Owen.”

“I know. I panicked. You deserve someone who won’t disappoint you.”

“Owen.” Her voice carries a note of steel I haven’t heard before. “Look at me.”

I force myself to meet her gaze, her dark eyes intense with determination.

“Why do you think you’re going to disappoint me?” She pauses, letting the question settle between us. “When we made love, it was the best thing in the world.”

“I’m scared I’m going to hurt you and ruin everything.”

“Did you ruin it?”

I look up from my hands and find her watching me with an expression I can’t quite read, but she looks more sad now than angry.

“I don’t know. Did I?”