Page 26 of Wish You Were Mine (Kings of Eden Falls #3)

Me: You doing anything fun tonight?

Please don’t say you’re on another date with that girl.

A beat passed and then he sent a photo, too. The dim glow of overhead lights and the soft blur of liquor bottles.

The Garden’s bar.

Theo’s friend: Just working.

Me: You work too much. You should make time for more fun.

Theo’s friend: I could say the same about you.

Touché .

I stared at the photo a second longer, his viewpoint still glowing.

Then, before I could talk myself out of it, I typed:

Me: Too bad you couldn’t make it to the away meet. Word on the street there’s a hot tub at my hotel.

Okay. That was probably a little too much. Definitely riding the edge.

But I couldn’t help it. He’d been flirty in our texts. So I was just matching his energy.

That was allowed, right?

Plus, he was seven hundred miles away. It wasn’t like we could even act on it.

I was just…painting a picture.

His reply came a moment later.

Theo’s friend: Wouldn’t mind a redo of the last time I was in a hot tub.

A warm flush rolled through me, curling low in my stomach.

Okay, so now we were officially playing with fire.

But when you had the kind of chemistry we did—no pun intended—was it really a surprise that we'd still be thinking about it?

Even if we couldn’t actually act on it?

Me: It was quite fun.

Theo’s friend: Especially the part where everyone else was gone.

My stomach dipped at the memory of that moment. The way the world had gone quiet. The heat of his hands, the steady strength in his arms, the way he’d looked at me like he already knew and accepted everything about me.

Was there any chance of that happening again?

I stared at the screen for a long second, then typed:

Me: Too bad you’re my professor now.

Theo’s friend: Too bad your dad could fire me and get me blacklisted.

Yeah…my dad definitely had the power to do that. Which was not a fun reminder to have when I’d been having so much fun not thinking about it.

I blinked down at my screen, something hollow opening just under my ribs as I asked something I hadn’t realized I’d been wondering until now.

Me: Is your dad as strict as mine?

A minute passed.

Nothing.

Maybe he’d gotten distracted, pouring someone a drink. Maybe someone had flagged him down across the bar.

Or maybe he just didn’t want to answer that one.

I picked up my laptop again, trying to focus on my assignment and the murmured conversation Nora and Mayci were having across the room about the Michigan beam lineup.

But then, my phone buzzed again.

Theo’s friend: He wasn’t too strict. Lost his temper from time to time, but now that I’m older I can see that was mostly just his stress taking over. There was a lot going on back then. My mom was checked out at times so he was raising three kids on his own at some points.

I blinked, something in my chest softening as I read it again.

I hadn’t expected that answer. He’d seemed so perfect and grounded, like he’d grown up in a house with matching holiday pajamas and French toast Sundays.

Me: Has he chilled out since then?

My dad definitely had, once Theo and I moved out.

Apparently, parenting was stressful for everyone.

And his mom had been checked out?

Owen’s response didn’t come in immediately. But then he said:

Theo’s friend: He actually passed. Almost ten years ago.

I stared at his message, the words sinking in slow.

He actually passed. Almost ten years ago.

I sat back a little, fingers still on the phone, but no words coming right away.

I hadn’t expected him to say that.

And now that he had, I realized I didn’t know anything about his family. Nothing about where he came from.

Nothing about his loss.

I exhaled slowly, trying to think of what to say. Something that wouldn’t sound stiff or awkward. Something that wouldn’t feel like I was tiptoeing around grief like it was a puddle on the sidewalk.

Something Theo might have needed to hear after Alisha died.

Finally, I typed:

Me: I’m really sorry, Owen. That must’ve been so hard.

I stared at the blinking cursor for a second longer.

Then added:

Me: He must’ve been a really great person. Raising someone like you.

I sent the message, my stomach tight.

And waited.

The screen stayed still. No dots. No reply.

Maybe I’d said the wrong thing. Maybe he didn’t want sympathy. Maybe I should’ve kept it lighter—just said I’m sorry and left it at that.

I stared at my phone, thumb brushing against the edge of the case as I tried listening to Mayci and Nora, but my brain was only half there.

He said his dad had passed about ten years ago. So…with Owen being twenty-eight or twenty-nine, that meant he’d lost his dad when he was probably just starting college.

Younger than me.

Maybe his mom had checked back in when his dad died. Hopefully, he and his siblings were able to rely on each other.

Was Owen the oldest? Youngest?

Or in the middle?

It would definitely affect any responsibility he would feel like he’d need to take on if he had younger siblings at that time .

I wanted to ask him those things, but since I still had no response, I didn’t want to overload him with messages.

Hopefully, he just got busy serving drinks.

Hopefully, we could talk some more soon.