Page 27 of Wish You Were Mine (Kings of Eden Falls #3)
OWEN
Light was already slipping through the blinds in my small bedroom when I woke on Sunday morning, cutting across the comforter in long, lazy lines. My head sank deeper into the pillow as I stretched one arm across the mattress, still half-asleep.
After giving my body a few minutes to decide whether it wanted to drift back to sleep, I rolled onto my back and reached for my phone on the nightstand.
Notifications filled the screen—group-chat updates from Bash, Ky, and Miles; a few emails; a reminder about a meeting with Dean Harris on Monday—and then one that made my stomach twist a little.
Lucy.
Right. Our conversation from last night.
I scrolled up, trying to remember where I’d left things…and immediately winced.
She’d replied to my text about my dad. Twice.
And I’d just left her on Read .
Not because I meant to. Not because I didn’t care. Just…Th e Garden got slammed after that big birthday group walked in, and by the time I remembered to check my phone again, it was well past two. Too late to reply without seeming like a total creep.
Still, a pit of guilt settled in my stomach as I opened our thread again.
Her messages were sweet. Gentle. Exactly the kind of responses I didn’t know I needed until I read them.
But then I scrolled a little farther up and saw the other part of our conversation. The part where the late-night version of me—the looser, more open, bartender me—was behind the wheel.
Yeah…in the light of day, those messages suddenly felt reckless.
And I probably shouldn’t have said half the things I’d said.
Not because I didn’t mean them.
Just…because I knew better. She was my student.
And this was complicated.
Even so, I found myself tapping out a reply.
Me: Hey, sorry for leaving you on read last night. Got slammed at The Garden and didn’t get back to my phone. But thank you—I really appreciate it.
Then I decided to add another text.
Me: It was definitely hard at first and everything was kind of a mess. It’s a long story that I don’t really want to get into over text since it’s…a lot. But you’re sweet. And I’m okay now.
I hit Send and stared up at the ceiling, letting the reminders of those hard times settle. I hadn’t talked about my family with anyone new in a long time.
A few seconds passed before my phone buzzed again.
Theo’s sister: Glad I didn’t offend you or anything. I’m not always the best with my words. (Or texts in this case.)
That made me smile.
Me: You’re just great. And from where I’m sitting, your texting abilities are perfect.
I’d had fun chatting, at least.
Even though I probably shouldn’t be doing it…
But the line between appropriate and not had been severely blurred from the beginning.
She’d started as just a cute girl at the bar. Then a fun girl at Ky’s party.
In any other universe, I would’ve asked her out by now. Taken her to dinner. Maybe kissed her under something other than string lights and poor judgment.
It wasn’t her fault she’d walked into my classroom a week later.
My phone buzzed again.
Theo’s sister: I’m glad you’ve enjoyed it. I’ve liked texting with you too.
My heart gave a soft thud.
We were being good. So careful.
Tiptoeing around this undeniable pull that didn’t feel like nothing.
I typed back.
Me: What time’s your meet today? You already at the arena?
Theo’s sister: It doesn’t start until 1:00, but we’re just about to leave the hotel and head over.
Me: Cool. Well…good luck. I hope you have a great meet.
Theo’s sister: Thanks
I stared at that emoji longer than I probably should have. And then closed my eyes, wondering how much longer we could play this game without someone getting burned.