Page 15 of Snowbound

“Owen?” I ask. “What? I don’t want any trouble. Please.”

“Of course you don’t,” he growls. “You never did. You always liked keeping the fucking peace, didn’t you?”

I look away, not sure if it's a judgment or just an observation. Either way, I nod.

“I—yes. I don’t want trouble. So sue me.” Anger bubbles up inside me. I didn’t ask for him to come and save me from freezing to death, only to lecture me. He alwaysdidlike to lecture me.

I used to imagine it meant he cared.

“You didn’t either. That’s why you left.”

He turns sharply, his eyes piercing mine. “Is that why you think I left?”

“Of course. You didn’t want anything to do with your father anymore. You didn’t want anything to do with me. So you left.”

My cheeks heat. I’m an adult now, and so is he. There’s no use hiding what I imagined was between us. There’s no shame in admitting what once was. But when I start to ask him, I falter. “Did you… did you know?”

“That you loved me?” he asks, holding my gaze. Bold.

I stare at him. I’ve got nothing to lose. “Yes,” I whisper.

“Of course I did,” he says softly. “And the feeling was mutual, Em.”

Em. No one calls me Em. No one but Owen.

“What are you… What are you talking about?” I whisper.

He turns toward me, his voice low and steady. “This is the bold truth, luv. My father told me to keep my fucking hands off my sister. Said I couldn’t touch you. Couldn’t even be near you.”

“I wasnotyour sister,” I say in a heated whisper, my hands clenched into fists.

He’s so near me now. When did he move?

“I know,” he whispers back, just as fiercely. “And then you fell for that man. Jake. I couldn’t stand to see you with that feckin’ arsehole. I knew he was no good. Wouldn’t protect you if he needed to.”

“I don’t need protecting,” I snap.

“Says the girl who just locked herself out in the middle of a fucking snowstorm.”

“Touché.” I swallow and look away. “Why are you here?” I ask quietly. He was the one stocking the cabin, making sure I had what I needed. I can’t insist I don’t need him anymore when the evidence, at least right now, is undeniable.

“Right,” he says. “I own a cabin not too far from here.”

“And you just randomly saw me here and decided to come? Like, stalk me?”

He shrugs a shoulder. “Something like.”

I swallow hard, my eyes stinging with tears. He’s always been honest. Why isn’t he being fully honest now?

And then his words replay in my mind.You fell in love with that fucking loser.

What would’ve happened if I hadn’t? What if we’d said fuck it and defied them all—my parents, the rules, everyone at school—and justdid what we wanted?

And I have to admit, now that he’s here, now that I’m not alone, it feels safer. The cabin is warmer. The fire he built is bigger, stronger. Robust. It’s warming everything.

There are still things he hasn’t told me. I can feel it. But I don’t push.

“So… you had a crush on me too?” I ask.