I wrinkle my nose. “Hopefully not mine.”
“Nah,” Scarlet says, twisting around in a bar stool. “It was mine. Doesn’t bother me, though it should, right? I mean, it sounds disgusting.”
“You love me.” Quinn wrinkles her nose and smiles, and I catch Danielle watching them. I remember what she said about feeling like an outsider, and suddenly I feel a lot more connected to Danielle than I thought I would.
I’m not a shy person. You can’t be a good lawyer if you’re shy. I can assert myself into any situation, but in social situations where it matters, I find myself more or less reserved. And while Danielle seems to be absolutely perfect for Logan, I can see how it would be hard to assert yourself into a tight-knit friendship like Quinn and Scarlet’s.
Maybe we could be frie—stop it. Don’t even go there.
Because I’m not taking things any further with Owen. Been there, done that, and it ended in heartbreak so severe I hardly survived it.* * *
I grimace when I take a drink of the margarita. Quinn seemed so proud of herself for making enough for everyone, though, so I suffer through another mouthful. Owen steps up behind me, and I almost expect him to put his hand on my back again.
Hell, I want him to.
“So, we were going to wait until after dinner,” Logan starts, wrapping one hand around Danielle. The enchiladas aren’t quite done yet, and we’re all crowded in the kitchen, eating chips and salsa as we wait. “But…” He looks at Danielle and smiles.
“I’m pregnant!” Danielle blurts, eyes filling with tears. Everyone erupts in happy cheers, and Logan holds up the ultrasound pictures.
“You’re eight weeks?” Quinn gasps. “How the hell did you keep this a secret? I told everyone before the pee was even dry on the stick.”
“Gross, sis,” Dean mutters.
“I knew like a day after conception,” she taunts, and Owen laughs. “Archer is just that goo—”
“Oh, honey, congratulations!” Mrs. Dawson pulls Danielle into a hug. “We were hoping this was why you invited us over.” She lets Danielle go and wipes tears from her eyes. Mr. Dawson claps Logan on the back.
“Told you one day Dad would be happy you knocked someone up,” Owen says, making everyone laugh.
Owen comes back over by me, still smiling. He’s genuinely happy for his twin and seeing him care so much makes me feel an attraction to him I’ve been trying to deny. I gulp down another mouthful of the margarita. It does not taste good at all, and I’m wondering if I can dump it down the drain without anyone seeing.
I turn to do just that when Quinn asks if I want a refill. Giving her a begrudging smile, I take my drink to the table.
“This is really gross,” I whisper to Owen as he slides into his seat next to me. He takes the margarita from me and takes a sip.
“That is so strong. Did Quinn make this, by any chance?”
“Yeah, she did.”
“There’s probably three shots of tequila in that.”
“No,” I silently exclaim and then laugh. “I already had a glass of sangria and I just gulped most of this down!”
“You’re gonna be drunk,” he teases.
I shrug and take another sip. “As long as you’re driving, I don’t see what’s wrong with that.”
He chuckles and reaches forward, taking a strand of my hair between his fingers. It’s something he used to do before, and would usually lead to me biting my lip because I knew it drove him crazy. We’d slowly move our heads together until his lips crashed against mine.
My breath hitches and Owen’s lips part. His eyes lock with mine and he twists my hair around his finger. Heart hammering, I lean in a little closer, getting lost in the darkness in his eyes. Then I blink and turn away.
What the hell am I doing?
Clearing his throat, Owen drops my hair and picks up his fork.
“Have you thought of any names yet?” I ask, needing to distract myself from Owen.
“I like Orissa if it’s a girl,” Logan says. “It’s from a book series I like.”
“Orissa?” Mr. Dawson’s eyebrows push together. “Isn’t that a city in India?”
“Only you would know that, Dad,” Quinn laughs. “It’s a little weird, but I like it.”
“Says the girl who named her daughter Arya,” Owen says under his breath, and Quinn shoots him a look. I elbow him and he laughs. “I’m joking. Arya is a badass, and the name, I’m sure, will be fitting.”
“Thank you,” Quinn says with a pressed smile.
“Owen is a really good name for a boy,” Owen goes on. “It’s a strong, masculine name, and he will be destined for greatness.”
“I’d make sure to avoid that one then,” Weston says and we all laugh.
“We haven’t come up with a boy’s name we agree on yet.” Danielle looks at Logan with a smile. “There’s so much pressure with picking a name.”