This moment … I never, ever want to forget. Making love with Owen in his room while a wild party rages on in his house. We’re locked away in our own little world, where the only things that exist are him and me.
That’s all that matters. Owen and Chelsea.
Chelsea and Owen.
Together.
About the Author
New York Times bestselling author Monica Murphy is a native Californian who lives in the foothills below Yosemite. A wife and mother of three, she writes new adult contemporary romance and is the author of the One Week Girlfriend series.
Visit Monica’s website at: www.monicamurphyauthor.com
Like Monica on Facebook: www.facebook.com/MonicaMurphyauthor
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CHAPTER 22
One year later
Owen
It’s hot as hell outside as we sit under the blazing sun, watching the graduation ceremony. Autumn keeps toddling off, fast as can be on those chubby legs of hers, little screams of joy emitting from her rosebud lips as Drew or Fable chases after her.
I just sit there, a smile curling my lips, occasionally reaching out to snag her into my arms when she buzzes by me. She laughs and shoves at my chest, wanting out of my arms, but I know it’s just a game. She loves me.
At this very moment, for once in my life, I feel surrounded by love. Nothing nagging at me, reminding me I’m a terrible son or making me feel guilty.
Is it wrong that my mother died while in jail and I didn’t mourn her death for long? I was sad—sadder for the loss of the opportunities she’d wasted more than anything. She could have been someone. She could have had Fable and me as her family. She could have had Drew and then Autumn, too. Hell, even Chelsea.
Instead, she died alone, her heart giving up after too much drinking and drugs and bad choices. Fable was completely emotionless when she told me. She was the one who got the call from the county jail and in turn, she called me. I found out over the phone that Mom died without anyone.
It hurt, but mostly I was numb. When had she ever been a real part of my life? A meaningful part? Not in years, maybe not ever.
That night, I let Chelsea comfort me. She held me close and told me how much she loved me. Then she got naked and showed me how much she loved me, too.
I am one lucky motherfucker.
The people sitting around us are irritated with Autumn, but they keep their mouths shut because there’s a superstar in their midst. Freaking Drew took his team to the Super Bowl again … and they won. Again. Two years in a row. The man is a god. Cover of Sports Illustrated, cover of People, cover of … I can’t even remember, he’s been on so many magazine covers. Fable’s been on a couple of covers with him, too.
Crazy. My pain-in-the-ass sister is freaking famous.
The ceremony announcer drones on, and he’s only on the R’s. Sweat forms at my neck, in my hairline, and I breathe deep, trying to pretend I’m somewhere cool, but it’s not working. I’m wearing a button-down shirt and the nicest pair of jeans I own, and I rub the back of my neck, grimacing. I wanted to look nice for Chelsea. It’s a special day for her, one I’m so thankful we’re all a part of.
She’s graduating. It’s a huge step and I’m so freaking proud of her. She’s not going on to graduate school, though, not yet. She’s taking the summer and the fall semester off because she wants some time for herself, for us, but I know she’s scared. She told me so.
I told her as long as we have each other, we’ll be just fine.
The announcer has kicked into the S’s and I sit up straight, craning my neck around the crowd of people that surround me. The bleachers are packed, as are the chairs down on the field. We’re on the field, since I’d pulled some strings with Coach Halsey and got us decent seats. I wanted to be close, so I could run up to Chelsea after the ceremony and hug her. Kiss her. Congratulate her and tell her how much I love her right before I give her her present.
It’s pretty simple, but I think she’ll like it.
“She’s going to drive me nuts,” Fable mutters under her breath as she comes back to her seat for about the hundredth time, a wiggling Autumn clutched in her arms. Drew takes his daughter and cuddles her close, holding her so her head rests on his shoulder. Her hair is dark like her dad’s, but her eyes are green like Fable’s and mine. She’s a perfect combination of her parents, bold and fast, pretty and strong. “And to think I’m going to have another one.”
“You’re pregnant?” I whisper loudly, causing more than a few heads to turn.
Shit. Word gets out like that about them and it makes front-page news.
“Sshh.” Fable glares at me, though her lips are curved in a tiny smile. “Yes, I am,” she admits.
Well, holy shit. Aren’t they just building the perfect little family? “I’m happy for you, Fabes,” I tell her truthfully.
“Thanks.” She smiles, resting her hand on her stomach. “I’m exhausted, sick half the time, but I’m the happiest I’ve been in my life.”
I agree. So am I. We’re fucking lucky, Fable and I. On paper, we should have been a disaster. At certain points in our lives, we were. The fucked-up siblings with the even more fucked-up mother and absent fathers. We should be losers. In jail. No jobs. No education. Nothing. We’d been told that time and again growing up.
Now look at us. We proved everyone wrong.
“I already promised Fable I’d hire ten nannies if the next one is anything like this little girl.” Drew jiggles Autumn in his arms, making her giggle as she keeps her head on his shoulder, her little thumb between her lips.
“Give me a break.” Fable rolls her eyes. “I told him five would be plenty.”
Drew leans over and kisses her, and I swear I just heard a collective sigh sound throughout the crowd.
These two can’t go anywhere without people watching them.
“Kayla Shroeder,” the announcer says, and I realize we’re getting close. I shush Fable and Drew, hoping like hell the baby doesn’t decide to start squalling at this particular moment, and I keep my eyes glued to the stage. Ready to watch her walk across.
“Brian Siebert … John Signorelli … Jessica Simerson … Chelsea Simmons.”
I stand up, unable to stop myself, as I watch her walk across the stage. She’s wearing a white graduation gown and one of those silly little graduation hats—I don’t know what the hell you call them. Her hair has grown a lot since we’ve been together and it flows almost to the middle of her back, straight and sleek this morning. She shakes the dean’s hand and accepts her diploma and I yell and cheer for her. So do Fable and Drew.
So does the rest of the crowd.
Chelsea glances out toward the audience, a smile on her face. She looks so damn happy, I want to grab her right now. Drag her away and tell her in private how proud I am of her. How much she means to me. Then I want to show her how much she means to me, too.
The rest of the ceremony happens in a blur. Autumn falls asleep on Drew’s shoulder, drooling all over it, which makes him laugh. Fable’s starting to fade, her skin growing paler from all the heat and the new baby growing inside her. As the ceremony is winding down, Drew tells me he’s going to take them back to the hotel. Fable needs to rest and Autumn needs a nap.
“Tell Chelsea we’re sorry we can’t congratulate her right now, but I gotta get my girls out of here,” Drew says, his gaze serious as he gathers up the heavy diaper bag one-handed, Autumn still drooling on his shoulder. Fable stands next to him, her smile wan, her eyes heavy with sleep. “But we’ll see her later tonight at the restaurant, right?”
We’re having a graduation party for her at The District. “Absolutely. I’ll let her know what you said.” She’ll understand. And she’ll be excited to hear about Fable’s news.
Drew leaves with Fable and Autumn, and I wait, standing on the sidelines as the ceremony comes to a close. All
of the graduating students toss their caps up into the air at the same time, screaming and shouting, their voices loud and strong. They did it. They’re done with school.
I know the thought would have sent Chelsea into a panic not even a year ago, but now, I think she’s relieved. I’m relieved, too. Our lives are going to change, and for the better.
I can’t fucking wait.
Chelsea
I glance all around me, looking for a sign of Owen, but I don’t spot him anywhere. It’s so hot, the mid-May air is stifling even in the morning, and I use my graduation cap to fan myself, clutching my diploma in my other hand.
No one else is here for me. I called Mom and told her the date and time. I even sent her an invitation, asking her to come. When she texted me that the only way she’d attend my graduation was if she could bring Dad with her, I flat-out refused. Told her not to bother. I don’t want him here. I don’t want to see him.
That was my choice, and no matter how much it hurt, I had to stand strong. Owen told me I did the right thing and I needed to hear that, because the doubt creeps up on me still.
So Mom stayed away today, and it made me sad. She sent me a graduation present and signed the card from Mom and Dad, which irritated me, but I told myself to get over it.
I have to accept the fact that no matter what, Mom is always going to choose Dad first. Her behavior disappoints me, but I can’t change her and I can’t change him. It is what it is.
At least I have my new family here. Owen and Fable and Drew and Autumn. They’ve embraced me fully into their clan and I love every one of them so much. They’re always there for me no matter what, and that’s more than I can say about my own parents. I’ve grown so close to them, especially Fable. She’s like the big sister I never had. She’s so busy, what with Drew’s career and fame and her own celebrity, but she drops everything to talk to me. And Owen.
She loves us unconditionally.
The last year hasn’t been easy for them either, what with Owen and Fable’s mother dying in jail just after the new year. A heart attack, brought on by all the drug and alcohol abuse she’d done over the years.
No one was surprised and they really didn’t outwardly mourn her, but I know it was hard on them, Owen more so than Fable, only because of all the guilt he carried with him from the number his mom did. She’d worked him as hard as she could, since Fable didn’t fall for her manipulations.
And it worked. He still held on to that need to please his mom no matter how much he knew it was wrong. It was a waste of his time. So when he discovered she’d died, I comforted him as best I could and helped him deal with it, letting him talk, letting him be alone—whatever he needed, I tried to be the best girlfriend I could.
Despite everyone wanting him to try for the pros once he graduates, Owen is tempted to give up that dream. He says he doesn’t believe he has the skill level or the discipline that Drew has to make it. Owen gets distracted and he’s the first to admit it. I both admire his decision and worry for him, wishing he didn’t feel that way. I try to subtly encourage him that he shouldn’t give up on his dream.
Fable, on the other hand, is constantly pushing him to reconsider, which is her prerogative as his sister. He tells her he might, but I’m not sure. I think he’s afraid he’ll fail in Drew’s shadow and somehow disappoint us all.
I’m hoping this summer I can convince him he can do whatever he sets his mind to. He’s so strong, so smart, and so stubborn. All that determination wrapped up in his charismatic package, I don’t see how he can go wrong.
I plan on helping him realize that, though I’m not sure Owen knows what he wants to do. He just lives in the moment. That sort of attitude used to scare me to death.
Not anymore. Lately I’ve embraced living in the moment, too.
It’s rather liberating.
I’m postponing graduate school to gain back some time for myself. I’ve always done what everyone else wanted me to. I accelerated through elementary school, high school, and now college. Always working, always doing what I was supposed to. I’m finally taking some time for myself. I’ll work, I’ll spend time with Owen, I might even pick up a hobby.
I’m excited about all the unknown possibilities. I’ll be fine as long as Owen’s with me.
“There you are.” One warm, strong arm slips around my waist from behind and pulls me in. I lean my head against Owen’s chest for the briefest moment before I turn in his embrace, gazing up at his handsome face.
He’s smiling at me, his gaze soft, his hair a bit of a mess, as if he’s run his fingers through it again and again. Leaning down, he presses a tender kiss to my lips, then pulls away. “Congrats, Chels. I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks.” I grin, so happy I feel like I’m going to burst. I still can’t believe he’s mine and that we’re together. That this beautiful, sweet, funny, irritating, sexy man loves me as much as I love him. “Are you ready to get out of here?”
He raises his brows. “Are you?”
“Definitely. It’s so hot.” I nod, glancing around at everyone else starting to leave the field. “We’re all dying to get out of here.”
“I have a gift for you first.” He holds up a bouquet of pink roses, the same shade as the one he gave me oh so long ago, and my heart melts. He thrusts them toward me and I take the bouquet, the clear wrapping crinkling in my hands as I bring the flowers up to my nose and breathe deep their familiar fragrance. “They always remind me of, well … you know.” He’s smiling so big and my love for him nearly overwhelms me.
“I love them,” I whisper, tears threatening, really meaning that I love him. He’s so sweet to me, so good. I remember how I once was, all tangled up in knots over everything and nothing. Worried that I was doing the wrong thing, needing to be a good girl, accomplishing my work, my assignments, desperate to keep everything under control but not really happy.
Not really living.
Owen has untangled all my knots. Smoothed them out and made me see there’s more to life than order and control and being good and seeking approval. There’s beauty and pain and love and sex and happiness and anger. And it’s okay to have all of that, to feel all of that. He makes me feel.
And I know I’m loved.
“Where to now?” he asks, his gaze warming when I unzip my graduation gown and shrug out of it, then drape it over my arm. I’m wearing a pale yellow sundress, and his eyes zero in on the little straps that tie on each of my shoulders. I can only think he’s imagining untying those bows and slowly peeling the dress off of me.
I’m imagining the same thing.
“I don’t know,” I say as he slips his arm around my shoulders and we start walking across the field toward the campus, where his car is parked.
“Feels kind of good to say that. Don’t you think?” He plays with the bow on my shoulder, his finger tracing the loop of fabric, and I shiver.
“Feels good to say what?” He’s distracting me. I can hardly focus when he touches me like that, even in a crowd of hundreds of people, like right now, because we’re surrounded completely.
Somehow, it still feels as though it’s just me and him.
“That you don’t know. We don’t know what we’re really doing next, do we? The entire summer is open for us to do whatever we want.” He smiles down at me, the sight of it making me a little dizzy, and I suddenly stop, causing him to stop, too. People brush past us, some of them grumbling irritably since we’re standing right in the middle of everyone’s path, but I don’t care.
I don’t think Owen cares either.
“I’d rather not know what I’m doing with you, Owen, than have everything plotted out for the rest of my life with someone else.” I mean it. He’s the only one I want. The only one I need.
“I feel the same, Chels. Exactly the same.” His voice is as soft as his touch upon my face, his fingers drifting across my cheek, and I close my eyes, in that moment so completely lost in him …
That I’m also completely found.
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Monica Murphy, Four Years Later
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