Page 37 of Wish You Were Mine (Kings of Eden Falls #3)

LUCY

“Are you coming to the game tomorrow night?” Brody asked as he adjusted the angle of the beaker in front of us.

“The hockey game?” I glanced up from my lab notebook.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I saw your meet’s not until Sunday, so you’ll be in town, right?”

“I should be around,” I said. “And Nora and I were talking about going to the game.”

“Cool. It should be a good one.”

We went back to measuring out the solution for the next step in our experiment, our gloved hands moving in near-synchronized coordination.

This was our third week working together and we were getting into a rhythm—not just with the lab work, but the easy, banter-filled conversations that helped pass the time.

“If you do make it to the game,” Brody added, “then you two should also come to the after-party. It’s at my house this time.”

“Which means that you and Josh can’t get thrown out if you get into another fight, right?” I smirked, glancing sideways at him.

“Right.” Brody chuckled under his breath. “Though, I doubt we’ll get in a fight like that again since he seems pretty happy these days.”

“Oh?” And before I could stop myself, I asked, “Because of his new girlfriend?”

“Yeah…” He hesitated, the corners of his mouth tightening before he said, “I know that’s probably weird for you. But he seems like he’s in a good place. Don’t think he’s even had a drink since our fight.”

Relief stirred in my chest, tentative but real. I wanted to believe that. Because the worst parts of Josh—his volatility, the moments that had left bruises deeper than skin—had always surfaced when he was drunk. He’d only ever truly lost control when alcohol was in the mix.

“That’s good,” I said honestly. And I meant it. I wanted Josh to be happy. I wanted the best for him, really.

Even if there were days I still wondered why he couldn’t have been happy with me.

“Anyway,” Brody cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, “the party should be fun. Definitely not planning to get wasted like I did last time. So I shouldn’t end up in any stupid fights.”

“Gotta keep those fights on the ice, right?” I teased, picturing the usual chaos of a hockey game—gloves flying, punches thrown, refs trying to drag players off one another.

“Right.”

He started gently swirling the flask, watching the pale blue solution deepen a shade. “Are you excited for your meet against LIU? Didn’t you take home the all-around against them last year?”

“I did.” I blinked at him. “I-I’m surprised you remembered. ”

“It’s hard to forget…” He shrugged, suddenly looking a little bashful. “Your floor routine was seriously impressive last year. I still don’t understand how one of your tumbling passes was even humanly possible.”

“Thanks.” Heat rose to my cheeks. “That routine was brutal. But it ended up being one of my favorites.”

“I could tell,” he said, his mouth tilting into a quiet smile. “You always looked like you were having the time of your life out there.”

“Did you go to a lot of our meets, then?” I asked, tilting my head. I’d known Brody as one of Josh’s teammates, had seen him at parties, but we’d barely exchanged more than a handful of words until this semester.

“I went to most of them,” he said softly, almost like he wasn’t sure if he should admit it.

“Well…thanks for coming. Home meets are always more fun when there’s a big crowd.”

His smile deepened, and just for a second, I swore I saw a flush creep up his neck. “It was my pleasure.”

And the way he said it, warm, almost hesitant, made me wonder if he’d just revealed more than he meant to.

Was it possible that all the times he’d teased Josh about asking me out hadn’t been teasing at all? Had Brody maybe, actually, had a thing for me?

The idea of Brody secretly crushing on me all year—it was sweet. He was a cool guy.

And maybe, in another life—or at least a different semester—I might’ve even liked him back.

But right now, my heart had set its sights on someone else.

At that thought, my gaze drifted across the lab. Owen was a few rows away, bent over a table, deep in discussion with another pair of students. He didn’t seem to be paying attention to us .

Which was probably good. (Even if I secretly wanted him to always be checking in on me the way I was checking in on him.)

“You’re having a pretty good season this year, too, right?” Brody asked, pulling my focus back.

“Pretty good.” I nodded. “I tied for second at the meet last weekend. Tied with Nora, actually.”

“That’s awesome.” He smiled. “Does it ever get weird? Competing against your best friend and living with her, too?”

“It does sometimes,” I admitted. “We both work really hard. And we both want each other to do our best. But…we also both want to win.”

“At least they allow ties,” he said. “Sounds like that worked out for you both.”

“Last week it did, at least,” I said with a soft laugh, turning back to our beaker. “You think it’s doing what it’s supposed to?”

“I’m not sure,” Brody said. “Think we should ask the professor?”

“Maybe.”

“Professor Park?” Brody raised his hand. “Can we get some help over here?”

Owen looked in our direction and nodded, then after giving the students he was with one last instruction, he made his way over.

“What can I help you with?” he asked, his gaze going to Brody first before peeking at me.

“We’re wondering if it looks like this is reacting correctly,” Brody said, gesturing to the beaker on the hot plate.

Owen bent slightly to inspect the setup. His shoulder bumped gently against mine with the movement, and I had to force myself to keep my eyes on the experiment and not on him.

“Looks good,” he said after a beat. “You’ll want to heat it for another couple minutes. Just until the color stabilizes. Then record your final observation.”

“Got it,” Brody said. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” Owen gave a nod and turned away, but not before his eyes lingered on mine just a second too long.

It was barely a second.

But it was enough to short-circuit my brain.

Because Owen in professor mode was so freaking hot.

The calm authority.

The quiet confidence in his explanations.

The way he commanded the room without even raising his voice.

There was something steady about him.

Safe.

And that was what drew me in the most.

After years of walking on eggshells with Josh—never knowing which version of him I’d get—being around someone so stable felt like breathing clean air for the first time.

I blinked and turned back to the flask, trying to focus.

But of course, all I could think about was how ridiculous I probably looked in my safety goggles.

Maybe Owen had a thing for the chemistry-nerd aesthetic?

One could hope.

Though, in reality, it probably just reminded him that I was his student.

Ugh.

The crowd at the rink was electric—horns, cowbells, chants, the slap of sticks echoing against the boards. Nora and I had squeezed into the student section near center ice, three rows up from the glass, bundled in puffer coats and school colors, our hot cocoa long gone and our voices mostly hoarse.

The game was nearing the end, tied 3-3, and we were all on edge.

And that was when I saw him.

Directly across the rink, I spotted Owen sitting among a small group—two guys and two women. From this far away, I couldn’t make out much, but one of the guys had the confident, relaxed posture of someone who owned the room—or maybe the whole town. The other looked more like a GQ ad come to life.

Unable to resist, I tugged my phone from my coat pocket and shot him a text.

Me: I see you.

I probably shouldn’t be texting him while we were in such a public place. But apparently, the stretch from Thursday afternoon to Monday was too long for me to go without having at least some sort of contact with him.

I watched Owen as he checked his phone. His head tilted down, the light of the screen lighting up his face. Then, just as he read it, I saw him smile.

He angled the phone downward, like he didn’t want the people around him to see, then lifted his head and scanned the stands.

His gaze passed right over me and Nora without a flicker of recognition, so I texted again.

Me: I’m right across from you. Three rows from the front.

His phone lit up again, and a beat later, his eyes found mine.

And there it was. That smile again. Easy. Warm.

Secret .

Like it was just for me.

My breath caught.

Me: Who are you here with? I don’t recognize the couples you’re sitting with.

A few seconds later a text came through.

Theo’s friend: I’m here with my friend Evan and his wife Addie. And Ian and his fiancée Maddie.

Me: Fun. I’m guessing Evan is the same Evan that owns The Garden?

Theo’s friend: Yep. And Ian is the guy I’ve been best friends with since we were kids.

Me: The son of the billionaire?

Theo’s friend: Yep.

Me: Fancy friends for my fancy professor.

I watched him read it, and sure enough, he seemed to chuckle again. Probably his low, genuine laugh that I loved.

Theo’s friend: Says the girl with the last name Archibald.

I smiled, biting my bottom lip. My fingers hovered for a second before I typed:

Me: What does the last name Archibald mean to you?

Why would he think it was synonymous with his fancy friends ?

I kept my gaze on him as he read it. He didn’t smile this time, just stared at his screen a little longer, then looked out at the ice like he was thinking.

Finally, the typing bubble appeared.

Theo’s friend: First, I think of President Archibald and how I’d be in big trouble if he knew I even had your number in my phone.

Fair.

Theo’s friend: Then I think about how, from my conversations with Theo, it sounds like your family has always been involved in high society things.

Your dad works for the university now, so I don’t know if he’s still tied to your grandpa’s company or what his inheritance looked like, but knowing how expensive gymnastics is at your level, I’m guessing your family does okay financially.