“Why?”
“Because you’re being stubborn.”
“About what? About not talking to Mum and Mick? I’m not sure I’m in the right headspace for a lecture from either of them.”
You know that’s not what she’s talking about.
“Fuck, you’re an idiot.” She threw herself from the sofa and rounded on him, hands on hips, glare furious. “The way you shut down Scooby-Do was infantile and selfish and cowardly.”
Owen’s gut clenched. Rolled. Knotted. And then churned. He scrunched up his face and dropped it into his hands, shaking his head. “You don’t get it, Til.”
“No, you don’t get it.” She dropped back beside him on the sofa, giving him an ungentle nudge. “How many people get the chance to experience the instant connection you pair obviously have? You’re the mathematician. You should know the numbers. How many people meet someone and know almost immediately that’s the person they want to spend the rest of their life with?”
“Bria said that?”
Tilly’s jaw clenched. “She did. She also said, and I quote ‘as insane as it sounds, since I met him, I’ve felt more alive and energized than I ever have’.”
Owen’s gut went through the whole clenching-knotting-rolling routine again. “She said that?”
Tilly arched an eyebrow at him. “Who’s the one who has hyperthymesia, brother?”
He rubbed at his face again. Tilly never forgot anything she personally experienced or heard. It had made for interesting ammunition when they were kids arguing. Clearly, it made for direct ammunition now.
“You like her, brother.” She nudged him again. Gently this time. “You like her a lot. And who cares if you might not have many months left. In fact, isn’t that more of a reason to stop being such a stubborn, selfish prick?”
He grunted, shook his head, and clawed his hands through his hair. “Everything in my gut tells me it’s not fair to Bria to lump her with me. With what I might have, but…” He swallowed, throat thick.
“But?”
Ah shit, he really was an idiot.
He jolted to his feet. “I have to go talk to her.”
Tilly slapped him on the arse. “That’s the Owen Marcus Blackthorne I know.”
He turned back to her. “Everything in my heart tells me I’m possibly fucking up a once-in-a-lifetime thing if I don’t.”
No matter how short that lifetime is.
Tilly grinned. “Your heart was always smarter than your gut, big bro.” She threw a quick nod at her apartment door. “Now, go get her.”
Pulse pounding, heart—clearly a wiser organ than his gut—thumping, he crossed to the door. “Don’t wait up.”
“Oi!” Tilly called behind him.
He turned just in time to snatch his mobile phone from the air as she tossed it to him.
She pinned him with a look. “Just in case you need to get in touch.”
He didn’t miss the undertone in her voice. She may have made him realize he was being an idiot when it came to Bria, but she was still worried about his head.
Shoving it in his back pocket, he let out a wobbly breath and smiled. “Love you, little sis.”
She poked her tongue out at him.
Five minutes later, he stood in front of Bria’s apartment door.
Stared at it.