Read Finding Me Online

Authors: Stephanie Rose

Finding Me (4 page)

“I didn’t think there were any Southern hockey players.”

Owen nodded. “You’d be surprised.” His lips twisted in a smirk. “I like a girl who knows hockey.”

I shrugged. “I sort of do. I used go out with—know someone who played hockey. Did you get into the sport because of your dad?”

“He’s from Colorado, and a huge Avalanche fan. A Ray Bourque signed jersey hangs on our living room wall. I always thought I’d be a D-man like him but I was better at scoring than blocking. I guess you could say I got into it because of him. He ended up in Savannah on a business trip and met my mom. That’s why I’m a charming Southern boy.” He threw a wink at me. He sure was, and more charming by the second.

“What does he do?”

“He’s an agent. I signed up for a marketing major to keep myself covered, and Culver has a sports marketing program. If I did end up playing, I’d be smart enough not to buy some of the bullshit people tried to sell me, and if I didn’t, I could maybe be an agent too, or do something in sports marketing. He always told me to make sure I had options.”

“My dad would think you’re a pretty smart guy. He always told me finance was the best profession to go into because you can work anywhere. He’s the vice president of the Chamberlain Group in New York City, and my aunt is the accounting manager at a flooring company. They both have a masters in accounting.” I took a gulp from my water bottle. I liked finance and anything to do with math, but my determination came from wanting a link with my dad.

“I better get back. I have a late practice tonight.” Owen rose from his seat and pulled on his backpack.

“I’ll stay here. Now that we have the room, I may as well finish the rest of my homework. I guess I’ll see you in class on Thursday.” I leaned forward and crossed my arms, resting my elbows on the table. “Can I ask a silly question?”

Owen’s mouth curved. “You can ask me
anything
you want.” Owen was a natural flirt, and pretty damn good at it.

I narrowed my eyes at him as I fought a smile. “What’s with the bandana?”

Owen clutched his chest in mock horror. “You don’t like it? Here I am thinking I look all bad ass . . .” He let out an exaggerated sigh and I pursed my lips. “Keeps the hair out of my eyes.” He pulled it off and his caramel locks fell in front of his face.

An unexpected jolt ran through my body. Long hair on a guy never enticed me, but every molecule of my body wanted to jump up and run my fingers through it. I felt the same way the first day of class but this was a real fight to stay in my seat, as if my hands
needed
to touch him. A fleeting thought of grabbing his hair as I stuck my tongue down his throat made me cross my legs to stifle the sudden ache.

I cleared my throat and scooted closer to the table. “It’s practical, that’s for sure. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Not if I see you first.” He tapped my chin with the tip of his finger and left me with a warm smile.

Great, now
my
mind was wandering.

Bella

“GOD, YOU’D THINK THEY WERE
giving something away at the library. Not one seat to be had anywhere. I’m sorry we have to come here instead.” I followed Owen into a just as crowded Bean Shooters. Every single study room and table was taken since it was midterm week. Being somewhere other than the library with Owen was weird, and I couldn’t put my finger on why. Probably because sitting at a table together felt more ‘date’ than study date, even though I knew better.

“Why are you sorry? I don’t mind coming here.”

I settled into a seat at the last empty table and Owen dropped his bag next to me. “Anything you want? My treat.”

His emerald eyes twinkled as he held my gaze. Sometimes, I could swear when he was looking at me, he was
looking
at me. I had to be losing it, most likely due to sleep deprivation. Advanced finance classes seemed like a good idea at the beginning of the semester, but the effort it took to keep up had me running on pure fumes.

“Iced coffee, black is perfect. Thank you.”

Owen snickered at me. “Sure, City.”

I narrowed my eyes as I unloaded my books from my bag. “And what’s so funny?”

Still laughing, Owen shook his head as he strode up to the long line in front of the counter. “Not a thing.”

“Hey, Bella, right?” My pencil dropped out of my hand as I jumped at the voice next to our table. That was the second time today I caught myself gawking at Owen as he walked away. I studied his ass so much, I’d memorized the fraying denim on his back pockets. Blinking my leering eyes, I turned to a sort of familiar face.

“Yeah. I’m sorry but I don’t know your name.”

“Paul. I’m in Intro to Psychology with you.” Paul was cute in a non-mentionable type of way. With his dark features and average build and height, he easily blended into a crowd—and my psych class was over three hundred people. I spent most of that class feeling like an ant.

“Oh, right.” I smacked my forehead in faked recognition. “I’m sorry. That class is huge.”

Paul chuckled as he nodded. “It’s a good thing Professor Brightman is interesting. It would suck for him to look out and see three hundred people sleeping.” He let out a nervous laugh as he gazed at me.

I smiled back. “I guess you’re right. It’s hard to notice anything or anyone in those seats, though. I’m sure people take naps in that class anyway.”

“Well,” Paul sighed as his eyes dropped to the ground. “I noticed
you
. From pretty much the first day.”

“Oh,” I replied in a whisper. I was only here on a study date, even though I almost let myself pretend it was more. Paul seemed nice but, whether it was misplaced or not, my interest was in the hockey player waiting by the barista. Should I force myself to flirt with Paul? That wouldn’t be fair to either of us, but putting all my eggs in one unattainable basket wasn’t exactly healthy either.

Paul grabbed the back of the chair next to me and raised his eyebrows in question. “Can I sit? I’d love to get to know the girl behind the pretty face.”

“Seat’s taken.” A Southern growl behind me made Paul’s face drop.

Owen placed my iced coffee and straw in front of me as he glared at Paul.

Paul let out a long sigh and nodded. “Sorry, Owen. I didn’t realize you were with Bella.”

“We’re on a study—”

“It’s cool, Paul. See you at practice later.” Owen sat in his chair and scooted it closer to me.

Paul nodded and gave me a sheepish smile before traipsing away.

Okay, what was that?
“You know Paul?”

He nodded without looking up. “He’s one of the third line freshmen on the team. Doesn’t seem like a bad guy, I guess.” With a sour face I wasn’t used to seeing, he dug into his bag and pulled out a notebook. If I didn’t know better, I’d have said he was jealous. I sucked in my bottom lip to fight the twitch of a satisfied smile.

“I don’t really know him. He’s in my Intro to Psychology class. Too many people in there to really know who anyone is.”

“You know what we should do?” Owen met my gaze as he leaned back in his chair.

I took a slurp of my coffee and squinted at Owen. “Enlighten me.”

Owen laughed as the front legs of his chair dropped to the floor and he leaned forward. “We should go out.”

With the straw still in my mouth, I froze. “Out?”

Owen nodded and gave me a sideways glance. “Yeah,
out
. You. Me. Without books or ledgers. We can celebrate how well we both did on the midterm—or how well
you
did and how I got by thanks to you.” Owen’s brow raised as he awaited my answer, but I didn’t know how to reply.

“I really don’t mind helping you. I get to study a little extra too, so it helps both of us.” Still ignoring his question, I opened my notes and skimmed to the midterm review questions. Owen inched closer to peer at my book, and I resented the jump in my pulse whenever he came near me. We’d been meeting twice a week for one hour at a time since the beginning of the semester, and each day I was more drawn to him than the one before. Last Thursday, Owen met me at the library straight after hockey practice when his hair was still damp from the shower. All I could think of for the first fifteen minutes was how the rest of his body looked wet, drops of water dripping across every muscle and hard ridge. Owen was the first man I had dreams of licking while I was still awake.

Today, he smelled so freaking delicious. I didn’t know if it was the soap he used, cologne, or just him. I wanted to bury my face in his neck and breathe him in until he filled my senses. Little by little, this boy was making me lose my damn mind. I was the girl I’d never wanted to become, the one who lost brain cells at the same rate her hormones surged.

Owen never needed much help at all. We went over the assignments together but he never had more than a question or two, so we both finished quickly. We spent the rest of our time together chatting about nothing. I should have pointed out to him a while ago he didn’t need my help, or suggest we only meet once per week.

But I didn’t. I looked forward to every second I spent with him, and it was a huge flashing danger sign.

“Nervous about the game Saturday?” What else could I ask Owen to make him forget what he just asked me?

He smirked and gave me a sideways glance. “Nah, Hudson U really isn’t the team to beat this year. I’m more worried about the midterm next week.”

I leaned back and narrowed my eyes. “You are a mystery, Owen. The first hockey player I’ve ever met who cares more about his accounting class than the ice.”

“An enigma trapped in a riddle.” He wiggled his eyebrows and I nudged his shoulder. His very hard shoulder. I wished my dorm had a bathtub so I could sit up to my neck in ice. Cold showers after our study dates weren’t doing a damn thing.

“I know what I’m doing on the ice. This stuff, not so sure.”

“Come
on
, you don’t need my help at all. You know what you’re doing. We probably don’t even need to meet anymore after the midterm.” I closed my notebook and shoved it back into my bag. My stomach sank as I waited for his reply. I’d fade into the background of the horde of girls that panted over him, but it was for the best. I hated the shit out of it, but the best all the same.

“Nuh-uh. No way, City. You’re not leavin’ me now. I’m too used to your face. The sexy way you order ‘cawfee’ has me hooked.” I kicked Owen under the table and he snickered back at me.

“That’s why you were laughing at me before, wasn’t it? I do
not
sound like that,” I huffed as I straightened in my chair. The scowl on my face made Owen laugh even harder.

“Oh, yes you do. From the first time you told me ‘whateva’ I knew I’d never get enough.” He leaned over and put his arm around my shoulders. My head spun from being this close to him. “Say it, Bella. Tell me to kiss your ass,” Owen crooned in my ear. His lips grazed my cheek, causing a shiver down my spine. I pulled back and turned my gaze to his. The smile faded from his face as his green eyes darkened. The air whooshed out of my lungs when his lip grazed his bottom teeth. I wanted that lip—both of them.

I sat back and did my best to look annoyed rather than turned on, but I was sure my shaking hands and uneasy smile gave me away.

Owen stared down at his coffee, almost as if he was trying to think of what to say. Did he want to kiss me as much as I wanted him to?
Yeah, right.
My mind was tired and playing cruel tricks on me.

I took a deep breath and rose from my seat. “I’d better go. I have another study session. I’ll probably need another ‘cawfee’ on the way over to stay awake.” I made sure to exaggerate the word as I gazed back at Owen.

Owen slapped his hand on the table with a satisfied smile. “There she is. Don’t ever change, City. And you and me. Out. After midterms. You pick the day.” There was that smile again, the one that had me feeling for my panties as I walked away to make sure they didn’t drop to the floor. Guys like Owen needed to come with a warning label.

“See you tomorrow.” I sauntered out of Bean Shooters shaking my head at myself.

Why did dinner with Owen terrify me so much? In the past few weeks, I’d gotten to know him as Owen the funny, sweet guy who loved to tease me—not just OT, the hockey hotshot with puck bunnies to spare. I wanted all of him, but I wasn’t sure if all of me could handle it.

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