The bastard deserved hell.
For a second, a flash of copper-red caught Owen’s eye in the mass of people. Bria? Coming after him?
The elevator door opened with a soft chime, and with a ragged breath, he stepped into the car and hit the close-door button.
Better to rip off that Bria-shaped Band-Aid quick smart. It had been fun, more than fun, it had been incredible and amazing and wonderful, but he wouldn’t expect her to even think about taking what they’d discovered to the next level. Not knowing what he possibly faced. Not with the pity he’d seen in her eyes.
You don’t think she should get a say in this? You’re making assumptions, mate. What if—
He ground his teeth and shook his aching head. “No pity fucks or relationships for me,” he muttered.
An unpleasant knot of guilt tightened in his gut, joined immediately by remorse and regret, but he ground his teeth harder, focusing on the sharp pain in his head instead of the pain in his heart.
“Band-Aid, Owen, Band-Aid.”
“So the stubborn sod just took off.” Tilly glared at the spot Owen had been standing and threw up her hands. “Great. Awesome. Fan-fucking-tasic. I’m going to kill him.”
Bria liked Tilly instantly. It helped the pocket rocket dressed as a burlesque scientist had promised to kick Simon’s ass—or arse, as Tilly had snarled—if he even looked at Owen again.
Of course, that didn’t mean Bria wasn’t furious with Owen for pulling a disappearing act, but his sister at least made the worry eating her up tolerable.
Biting her bottom lip, she shot her own sisters a look. Zeta and Elisa had appeared from behind the palm trees a few seconds after Owen had left, confusion twisting their identical eyebrows. “What did we miss?” Zeta had asked.
Tilly, God love her, had colorfully filled them in, jabbing her finger at Simon and threatening him with bodily harm in a voice that hinted at it being not a threat but a promise. Bria watched the confusion on her sisters’ faces morph into admiration as they observed Tilly. That admiration turned to something close to adulation when Simon stammered out an apology and scurried off.
Now, however, with Simon gone, Owen removing himself from the party, and Tilly angry with her brother, both Zeta and Elisa frowned at Bria again, the question in their eyes clear. What was she going to do next?
She didn’t know.
She was pissed. At Owen for leaving, at Owen for keeping something as huge as possible brain cancer from the conversation, at Owen for making her believe love at first sight was actually possible, and at Owen for not hanging around so she could see he was okay.
Damn it, was he okay?
“I’m going after him,” she declared.
She spun on her heel, stormed three steps away from Elisa, Zeta and Tilly, and then stormed the three steps back. “Where would he go?” she asked Tilly.
Frowning, Tilly studied her. “Sorry, I know the last few minutes have been a bit chaotic, but who are you?”
Bria opened her mouth. And closed it. Who was she to Owen?
Tilly narrowed her eyes and then smiled. “Ah, Scooby-Doo. You’re Scooby-Doo, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” She had been. What felt like a lifetime ago.
“I interrupted you when you were making out with my brother.” Tilly snorted. “He likes you.”
“I like him,” Bria said back. “A lot. I think.”
“You know he’s a shocker for leaving the loo seat up, right?”
“But he does pick up discarded bath towels from the floor.”
Tilly snorted again, lips twitching. “I don’t want to know how you know that already, but, yes, he does. He’s a bit of a neat freak.” She paused, narrowing her eyes again as she looked at Bria. “So what are your intentions with O?”
Behind Tilly, Zeta covered her mouth with a hand—to muffle her laughter or to stop herself blurting out something, Bria wasn’t sure. At Zeta’s side, Elisa smirked.
“Originally?” Bria asked. “To fuck him senseless.”