Him coming back was all it took to turn her world upside down.
Harper Collins is perfectly content with where her life is at. Is it perfect? No. But she's content. Now a guidance counselor at her old elementary school, a volunteer safety officer...
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I WAIT IN MY APARTMENT WITH RESTLESS LEGS in a casual long-sleeved white dress with sandals. Every date I went on I wished to be in shorts and a t-shirt. What I didn't know at that time was that I didn't want to dress up because I didn't care. With Owen. I care. I really care. A white dress was not my opinion of "best" but Am insisted I look the best in white.
I beg to agree.
White makes my hair stick out like a sore thumb but she vehemently told me to own my bright red hair and work it. She styled it with loose curls and did my makeup before I left for school this morning.
I sit in my apartment now waiting not so patiently for Owen. He should be here by now.
A knock at the door makes me jump up but now I don't feel as ready anymore. I check myself in our hallway mirror making sure I look perfect.
I open the door to Owen standing tall, proud and gloriously sexy. He's wearing a nicely tight white V-neck shirt tucked into dark denim with a rugged jacket over it. The shirt shows off the definition of his chest and his hair perfectly captures a guy who doesn't have to do anything to it and it still looks amazing.
Not fair.
His honest hazel eyes land on me and they widen. "Wow, I didn't think you'd be getting dressed up for this."
"Changing now."
He snatches my wrist and yanks me over to him. His lips press down on mine and I melt into him as my hands trail up his broad, masculine shoulders. It's sweet, perfect, unexpected and splendidly tasty. Everything a kiss should be. He pulls away and a small amount of bitterness flows in my heart, making me whimper which earns a satisfied smirk from him.
"Don't. I just didn't expect it." He gives a playful look. "It about killed me when I pulled you over in that little black dress so this makes up for it."
His smile is fast and entrancing, making me forget all about... well everything. My mind is mush. He skillfully slides his fingers between mine pulling me out of the apartment.
I finally find my tongue. "Wait, my purse."
"You won't need it."
He's patient with me as we walk down the stairs. Most people would probably feel shame or embarrassed but after our night at the baseball field, not once, have I felt ugly because of my leg. Owen's made it clear on multiple occasions now, that to him I am the most beautiful woman. Not just with his words either, but how he waits for me, how he's patient with me and how he looks at me. How we fight and he sits their smiling like it's the most fun he's ever had in his life.
It's like I had allergies or something and took some Clearasil curing my blurry, itchy eyes. I see exactly how he looks at me now. Patty told me many times and I wish I could've seen it then but I was in denial.
