Page 22 of The Best I Never Had

“My pleasure,” Harrison says, grabbing Addy and throwing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She screams and beats at his back, but he just laughs louder, intentionally splashing through the water to mess with her.

I get what Addy sees in him. He’s genuine, all his thoughts and opinions written across his face. Addy will always know where she stands with him.

“Need a ride, too?” Owen asks, his low voice tugging at something deep in my stomach.

“Nah,” I say. “I like to know what pain I’m getting into before it hits.”

I spend the fifteen-second walk through the water to the—blessedly dry—line muttering every curse I know. The deep pool at the bottom of the waterfall taunts me while we wait for our turn, and my stomach churns with each step up the hill.

When we get to the top, Harrison pulls Addy between his legs. She squeals as the cold water slides around her body, but Harrison’s already scooching them forward. Addy’s screeched “Oh my god” reaches all the way back up to us until they slip off the edge of the rock and into the pool.

“Our turn,” Owen says, holding out a hand.

“You go ahead. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Liar,” he says with a chuckle. “Don’t back out now. You’re so close.”

I huff out a breath, stepping with him off the dry path and into the flow of the water.

“Holy fucking fuck, that is so fucking cold,” I say, wincing at the sharp bite of the water and forgetting about the sweet family of five behind us in line. I send an apologetic glance to the parents. “I’m sorry.”

“She’s not wrong, Mom,” the shortest of the three girls says. “It’s really fucking cold.”

The mom sighs and rubs a hand over her eyes while the dad stifles a laugh. “Please don’t say ‘fucking,’ Sophie.”

It’s the type of family I always imagined for me and Addy, loving parents who are gentle even when we screw up. How different would life have been if we’d been raised like this?

I absently rub at the ache in my chest, but that just spreads cold water from my hands over my body. Owen watches me from about a foot away as I shiver. He holds his hand out again, and before I can question whether it’s smart to exchange these small touches, I clasp it.

“Ready?” he asks, giving me the freedom to choose. Dozens of people stand in line, watching our every move, but Owen waits, holding my hand and not tugging me along.

After a few seconds during which I seriously consider hopping back up and running away, I nod. When I still don’t move, he chuckles and whispers, “Need some help?”

“Yes, please,” I whimper back.

He pulls me along with him, the current strengthening until we lose all control. I squeeze his hand so tight that his bones may snap, but he never tries to escape, keeping my hand in his as we fly down the mountain. It’s a bumpy ride, nothing like the man-made slides at the cheap water parks around Central Florida. The current takes us away from each other, but Owen gives my hand a tug to bring us back together. He only lets go when we land in the icy pool. It’s like a million tiny pinpricks, but it’s also a shot of adrenaline.

We’re both laughing when we break the surface of the little pool. His eyes are shining, the silver droplets of water scattered across his lashes making his eyes even brighter.

“Holy shit,” I say. “That was incredible.”

“Going again?” he asks.

“Oh, hell no,” I say, and he throws his head back with a big, booming laugh that sinks into my bones.

We swim over to the steps, slipping on the rocks. Owen places a hand on my waist after one particularly slippery rock, and that one little touch wakes up my senses more than the dip in the freezing water.

“Let’s go again,” Harrison says when we meet them at the top of the steps. Addy bounces on her toes, and I know I’m going to cave.

“Once is enough for me,” Owen says. “Thea, want to hang in the sun while they go?”

Warmth spreads through my limbs at the soft smile on his face. He wants to go again. He said so in the pool thirty seconds ago, but he’s willing to sit it out so I’m not the bad guy.

“Yeah,” I say, trying to pull back on my smile. “That sounds great.”

Harrison and Addy shoot off to the line. A few seconds later, a towel covers my shoulders. I turn to find Owen, still gloriously shirtless with water droplets dusting his broad shoulders.

“You don’t have to give me your towel,” I say, shrugging it off. “I should have thought about needing one when Addy told me to wear a bathing suit.”