Page 19 of Wish You Were Mine (Kings of Eden Falls #3)

LUCY

I tugged the sleeves of my red hoodie down over my hands and tried the chemistry lab door again.

Still locked.

I leaned back against the cinderblock wall, exhaling slowly and trying to shake off the nerves twisting up in my stomach.

I wasn’t normally anxious about school. Gymnastics meets?

Sure. Big presentations? A little. But something about this chemistry lab had me way more jittery than I wanted to admit.

Probably because I’d never done one before.

Not in real life, anyway.

My entire high school experience had been online—out of necessity.

There hadn’t been time for traditional school between hours at the gym, traveling for meets, and competing at the elite level.

So I’d done what any athlete with Olympic dreams and no life balance would do: I clicked my way through chemistry labs in a browser window while icing my ankle and watching floor routine replays on loop.

So, yeah. Hopefully, I wouldn’t mix the wrong chemicals together and blow a hole through a lab table .

I glanced at my watch. Still fifteen minutes until the lab was supposed to start.

I’d rushed through lunch, thanks to the pit in my stomach, scarfing down half a protein bar and a handful of grapes before bolting over here early to scope out the lab room. Now I was just waiting…trying not to psych myself out more.

Not that I should have anything to be nervous about. Yesterday’s class had gone fine. I’d slipped in late, stayed quiet, and bolted as soon as the lecture ended. Nothing weird happened.

Nothing aside from the fact that my heart had raced every time Owen looked in my direction.

Not that anyone noticed. I was chill. Collected. Totally unaffected.

Hopefully.

Okay, maybe I’d laughed just a little too hard at his dumb chemistry jokes. But seriously, he was funny. And that whole “hot nerd” vibe he had going? It was straight-up dangerous if I wanted to keep any forbidden crushes at bay.

Especially when I’d met him as a flirty, confident bartender with a chest tattoo and lips that made me forget my own name.

I sighed. I really need to stop thinking about that night.

Replaying those memories wasn’t going to help them fade.

A pair of footsteps echoed up the stairwell and I straightened, tugging my hoodie back into place. But it was just another student passing by, probably on their way to some other lab.

I exhaled and pulled out my phone to scroll through Instagram. Maybe checking out a few puppy reels would distract me from the fact that I was slowly unraveling over freshman-level science.

But just as my finger swiped up the screen, a figure appeared in front of me .

I looked up—and there he was.

Owen.

Professor Park.

Looking unfairly good in a navy sweater and dark jeans, leather messenger bag slung over one shoulder, keycard already in hand.

Our eyes met and something caught in my chest—like I’d forgotten how to breathe for a second. He cleared his throat and glanced down, then said, “Hello, Lucy.”

“Hi,” I said, my voice a little too quiet, a little too breathless.

He stepped past me and tried the lab door. When it didn’t budge, he tapped his keycard against the panel, the small light flashing green.

“How’s your semester going so far?” he asked, his voice casual. Polished. Just a normal professor talking to a normal student.

“It’s going all right,” I said, matching his even tone.

Which was mostly true. But standing this close to him again—seeing the details I couldn’t make out from the back row—was throwing me off.

I hadn’t realized how striking his eyes were—warm brown, almost golden when the light hit them just right. Oval-shaped, with smooth lids that gave him a quietly intense look.

Yeah, he was definitely the hottest professor I’d ever had.

Way too attractive for my own good.

“I’m glad it’s going okay,” he said, opening the lab door and stepping aside so I could enter first. “I know you mentioned chemistry wasn’t your favorite. Are you feeling like you’re catching on?”

“Uh huh.” I nodded as I entered the room, glancing around. “So far it’s been good. You’re a good teacher.”

“Oh. Thanks.” His cheeks colored slightly, and he glanced down like he was embarrassed .

Ugh. He was cute.

Dangerously so…

He walked ahead and flipped on the lights, motioning toward the long black tables set up around the room. “You can sit wherever you like.”

I nodded and made my way to a table near the windows, dropping my bag onto the stool beside it. As I started unpacking the gear I’d bought from the supplies list online—goggles, gloves, a lab notebook—I scanned the rest of the room.

A few students had trickled in behind me, most of them familiar faces from my lecture hour, though there were a couple I didn’t recognize. Probably from one of Owen’s other intro sections.

I sat down and glanced around, wondering if I was supposed to pick a lab partner. Most of the students were already chatting in pairs or settling into their usual cliques.

No one sat next to me.

I bit the inside of my cheek. Maybe I needed to move and find someone to pair up with.

But then, a few minutes before one, Brody—the hockey player Josh had tried to fight at The Garden—strolled in, wearing a beanie and a crooked smile. His gaze swept the room until it landed on me.

“Hey, Archibald.” He grinned. “Want to be lab buddies?”

I blinked then gave a half-smile. “Sure.”

“Sweet.” He dropped his bag on the stool beside mine. “We can be the old farts in this class together.”

I laughed. “Seniors unite.”

“You know it.” He held his hand out for a fist bump.

Okay. So maybe lab wasn’t going to be a total disaster.

At least I wouldn’t be blowing things up alone.

“This station here is for waste disposal,” Owen said, gesturing to the back counter as he gave us a quick tour of the lab. “Label all your beakers, wear your safety gear, and please, for the love of science, don’t mix anything without reading the directions.”

A few students laughed quietly, and he cracked a smile, glancing around the room before continuing.

“Today’s a basic intro to lab safety, along with a simple reaction to get you comfortable working with your partner.

The procedures are printed out at each station.

If you need help, just raise your hand—there’s no need to light anything on fire to get my attention. ”

My eyes flicked up to the front of the room, just in time to catch the smallest smile on his face before he looked away.

He was acting in a totally appropriate way.

Completely professional.

But even though I knew I shouldn’t, my mind wanted to think that all his jokes and little smiles were just for me.

“All right, let’s do this,” Brody said, rolling up the sleeves of his hoodie as he plopped onto the stool beside me and scanned the laminated procedure sheet. “Ready to get nerdy, Archibald?”

“As long as we don’t blow anything up,” I said, pulling on my goggles. “Then I guess I’m ready.”

“Don’t worry.” He grinned. “I got a B-plus in high school chem, so I’m basically a pro.”

“Oh wow. Glad I partnered with a chemistry genius.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, grabbing the first beaker and reading the label. “But fair warning—I’m more of a hands-on learner.”

I raised a brow. “That supposed to be a pick-up line?”

“Maybe.” He smirked. “Did it work?”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out .

We worked through the first few steps, measuring out the solutions and carefully combining them in the beaker. It fizzed a little—nothing dramatic—and Brody leaned in, peering at the reaction.

“Smells like high school all over again,” he muttered.

“Wouldn’t know,” I said, adjusting the burner with a careful turn. “I did online high school.”

Brody glanced over, eyebrows raised. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. Full-time gymnastics didn’t exactly leave room for AP Bio and Friday night pep rallies.”

“Ah, right.” He leaned back on his stool, nodding like it all clicked now. “That makes sense.” After a beat, he asked, “Hey, were you at the hockey game on Sunday?”

“Nope.” I shook my head. “We had a meet at Penn State that afternoon.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right. How’d it go?”

I twisted the cap off a graduated cylinder and started measuring. “Pretty close. We only lost by half a point. I placed third in the all-around, though.”

“Wow—third?” He whistled. “That’s freaking impressive.”

I felt my cheeks warm slightly, but I waved him off. “It was all right, I guess.”

If I’d stuck the landing on my second tumbling pass—and managed to keep both feet in bounds—I might’ve placed first.

Still, third wasn’t bad. A solid start to the season. Hopefully, I’d only improve from here.

“Your turn to test the pH.” Brody nudged me with his elbow when the solution was ready, handing over a test strip. “Let’s see if I managed to make this reaction acidic enough to melt the table.”

“Ok…” I said, taking the test strip from his fingers.

I double-checked the instructions on the lab sheet before dipping it into the solution, trying not to let my nerves show .

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement—Owen was leaning over another group’s table, adjusting the flame on their Bunsen burner, sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

And wow. His forearms were…just as distracting as they’d been that first night at The Garden.

Lean muscle. Just the right amount of arm hair. A few well-defined veins that shifted when he moved.

I suddenly understood why Nora always said men's forearms were the most underrated body part in society.

And apparently, I’d been staring too long because his eyes flicked up to mine. Just for a second. A quick, unintentional glance.

But it was enough to make my breath hitch.

Lab sheet. pH test.

I turned my attention firmly back to the table, pretending my heart wasn’t pounding for completely unnecessary reasons.

Focus.

As the color on the test strip darkened, I glanced sideways at Brody. “Hey…are things chill with you and Josh?”

“They’ve been all right.” He looked up from writing in our lab notebook. “No more fights, if that’s what you mean.”

“That’s good.” I placed the strip onto a paper towel to dry. I hadn’t run into Josh yet this semester or heard from him. Hopefully, that meant things were going okay. Hopefully, he was handling the pressure of being team captain better than he’d handled everything last year.

“What was that fight about, anyway?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

“Ah, just something dumb.” Brody rolled a shoulder. “I was giving him a hard time about something, and he didn’t take it well.”

I thought about what Nora had told me. That Brody said their fight started because he’d teased Josh about trying to ask me out.

Which…I still didn’t know how I felt about that. Brody was cute, objectively. Dirty-blond hair. Blue eyes. A little scruff on his jaw. Nice face.

Charming in a way most athletes were.

But hockey players weren’t exactly known for their chill reputations.

And even if he had been serious in considering asking me out, I wasn’t sure what I would’ve said. I didn’t know him well enough to know if his flirting was just for fun or something more.

Brody cleared his throat. “How are things with you and Josh, anyway? Haven’t seen you hanging out as much.”

“We’re okay,” I said, keeping my eyes on the test strip.

He paused, then asked gently, “Mind if I ask why you broke up?”

I hesitated, unsure how to answer. There were so many reasons. Some obvious, some buried under years of pretending things were fine when they weren’t.

Before I could speak, movement caught my attention again.

Owen was back at his desk now, flipping through a folder—but there was a stillness to his movements that made me wonder if he’d heard the question.

If he was…listening.

My eyes flicked to him again.

And just as quickly, he looked down, suddenly far too interested in the papers on his desk.

My heart gave a traitorous little flutter.

I turned back to Brody, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “It just wasn’t working anymore.”

“Fair enough.” He nodded, like he wasn’t going to press me on it .

Which I appreciated. I didn’t really have the mental bandwidth for unpacking my relationship trauma mid-lab, especially with Owen standing a few feet away.

“Anyway,” he said, lightening the tone, “looks like we didn’t melt anything, so I’d call that a win.”

I smiled. “First lab survived.”

“Barely.”

We clinked our plastic test tubes together like champagne glasses.

Okay. Maybe this whole lab thing wouldn’t be so bad after all.