Owen.
I can't stop thinking about it. It's been about 36 hours and I still can't stop thinking about it. Even as I lay naked in bed next to my supposed girlfriend, who should be all I'm thinking about right now, I'm thinking about Amelia and that kiss. I groan as I look down at my body, which is naturally responding to the dirty thoughts in my head. From just a kiss. A kiss.
"What's wrong?" Becca yawns as she flips over and snuggles into my chest.
"Nothing," I lie. Nothing except that I kissed Amelia and I want to do it again. "I'm just..."
"Horny?" she finishes for me, eyeing the small tent that my erection has created. Why are men's bodies so useless at hiding arousal?
"Yeah," I answer. Although not for you. She smiles mischievously at me and disappears beneath the covers to give me a blow job. I feel disgusted because, throughout the entire performance that my wonderful girlfriend has decided to grace me with at this early hour, I imagine Amelia's sucking me off.
I haven't seen Amelia since the kiss. She didn't come into work the day after and she didn't answer my calls. So, when she walked into the elevator on Wednesday morning and our eyes locked, all the memories and feelings from Monday night came rushing back in full force. For most of the elevator ride, we remained silent and professional, due to the fact that others were around us. But, once everyone left the elevator and it was just me and her...
"Amelia," I say, looking down at the floor, "We should talk."
"I don't have time to talk. I'm kinda busy today," she answers flatly. We stand in silence once more until I can't take it anymore. I reach in front of us and press the red button and the elevator stops moving.
"Now you have time," I say as I stand up in front of her, "Why won't you talk to me?" I look down at her and see her purposely avoiding eye contact. "You won't even look at me."
She sighs and looks up at me now. "I think it's pretty obvious why I won't look at you."
"Okay," I agree, gesturing between the both of us, "Well then, let's talk about it and see if we can-"
"I don't want to talk about it," she says, chuckling bitterly to herself, "I don't want to even be in the same space as you."
"Okay, ouch," I say, thinking of what to say next.
Amelia sighs again, apologising, "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to hurt you." She looks up at me and there's a sad look in her eyes. "What we did last night was wrong on so many levels."
"Amelia, do you know how long I've wanted to do that?" I ask her, trying to be as honest as I can.
"That doesn't make it okay, Owen," she replies, "You just got into a relationship, and I've been with Ryan..."
"I only got into that relationship because of you!" I exclaim to her, knowing I should've probably kept that part to myself. I take a deep breath and centre my thoughts. "Amelia, do you think you would've still chosen Ryan if we had slept together that night?"
"I don't know!" Amelia hisses, "I barely knew either of you!" She pinches the bridge of her nose and takes a deep breath. "You fell asleep, Owen. You made it pretty clear that you weren't interested in me at all-,"
"I was drunk!" I defend, but she scoffs and rolls her eyes, clearly not believing my statement. I didn't want to add the 'sleepless nights because of PTSD' explanation to my excuse. "I am crazy about you, Amelia. I've been crazy about you for months!"
"I find that very hard to believe when all you've done since we've met is push me towards Ryan." I open my mouth to reply, but then I close it, not sure of what I want to say anymore.
"Amelia, I'm sorry that it's taken me this long to realise that I want to be with you," I say, hoping my words will reach to her, "But the only reason I gave you advice on dating Ryan is because I was too afraid to tell you how I felt. A couple months ago, I didn't even think I actually liked you, I thought I was just jealous because you were spending all your time with Ryan."
"So you only started liking me after I began dating Ryan...?" she sarcastically remarks. I hold my head with my hands and take an exasperated breath. She's making this so difficult.
"It was the first night we went out," I explain to her, realising to myself that I've liked Amelia for much longer than I thought I did, "And I know I fell asleep and, honestly, that was the biggest mistake I've made in a while..." I move closer to her and look down at her fondly. "But that was one of the best nights I've had since I've been here in Seattle." I brush some of her hair out of her face and smirk as her cheeks turn red quickly once she's realised how close I am. "Then, when that patient hurt you, I knew how I felt." I exhale, truly taking her in. "I want to kiss you again," I say to her, "I want to do more than that." I see her eyes dart to my lips and her gaze softens as she stares at them. She bites her bottom lip as she looks at me, and I move my hand to her lower back and pull her closer to me. She doesn't stop me, she just keeps her eyes focused on mine.
"I don't know what to do," she confesses, our gazes locked, "You are...very distracting." I grin cockily as listen to her. "I really like Ryan," she says, and her eyes finally move to look at my mouth again, "But last night..."
"Was really good," I finish for her, waiting for her response. Her dominant hand slowly creeps up my chin and to my lips, her thumb brushing against my bottom lip as she stares longingly at it. I know she wants it, I want it too.
So, imagine my surprise when I go to kiss her and receive something else instead. I hear the noise first before I feel the pain, but regardless, I'm almost certain Amelia's just slapped me across my face, hard. I stare at her in confused silence as my cheek begins to burn from her attack. She's staring back at me in shock too, almost like she didn't expect to do that. I smirk at her and step back.
"What dress are you wearing to the banquet tonight?" I confirm. She can't even look at me now.
"That's none of your business," she says. Glad about the reaction I've gotten out of her, I resume the journey of the elevator and, the next floor it stops at, I come out.
As the elevator's about to close, I look back at her and throw a cocky smile. "You should wear something red." I definitely see a pair of blue eyes rolling at me in return.
---
"What's taking them so long?"
"I don't know," I say to Becca, checking my phone again to see if Amelia's read my message, "I'll go check."
"Do you want me to come?" she asks.
I hesitate for a second. Will she be able to pick up on my attraction for Amelia if she comes with me? But if I make her stay in the car, she may think something's up... "If you want...I shouldn't be long," I say. She settles for waiting in the car while I jog upstairs to Amelia's apartment. I enter without knocking, like I usually do, and I find Ryan rummaging in the fridge for something.
"Oh, hey," he says when he finally sees me, "Sorry for making you wait. Amelia and I were..." He pauses and grins, clearly a little drunk already. "Well, you know."
"Of course I do," I answer with a sigh. Then, Amelia comes out of the bathroom. She's saying something to Ryan about his dog, but all I can acknowledge is the bright red dress hugging every curve in her body, making her eyes twice as blue as they usually are. It's long, down to her ankles, and it's backless, showing off every flex of her shoulder as she moves about the kitchen. Her hair is out, and she has a full face of light makeup, and I can't stop staring at her.
"Oh, hi Owen," she says when she notices me, a relaxed smile on her face. Something's changed since we spoke earlier. Sex, maybe.
"Hi," I manage to stutter. I watch as she helps Ryan tie his bowtie, as he's clearly too tipsy to do it properly himself. She tells him she's almost ready and he says he'll wait in my car for her with Becca, naively leaving the two of us alone.
Once I can no longer hear his footsteps outside, I glaze my eyes over her once more, whispering, "Amelia..."
"You look cute," she says, ignoring the husk in my voice as she searches for her shoes, "That blue tie really suits you." I follow her to her bedroom as she continues her search for her footwear. The words, that were on the tip of my tongue moments before, have now disappeared once she bends over to look through a mass of shoes. My throat feels dry just looking at her.
"About our conversation earlier..." I begin, clearing my throat.
"It's okay Owen," she dismisses me before I can say what's really on my mind, "We were both drunk, I missed Ryan. It was an accident, no biggie."
"An accident?" I seek to confirm, her words stabbing me in my heart.
"Yeah," she says as she finally finds the matching red pair of shoes. She sounds like she barely believes the story herself, but I relent.
"Okay," I say. I hold my tongue as I walk over to help her put on her shoes. She sits on the bed and bares her ankles for me, and I gently slide on the heels for her. I'm angry that she's dismissed me so easily after what was one of the most intense kisses I've had in a while. Some sex with Ryan and she's converted back to 'Christianity' again? I don't buy it. "Did you tell Ryan?"
She looks down at me with a blank expression. "I don't see why I should."
"If it's not a big deal then you can tell him, right?" I provoke her. Her gaze turns into a glare now as she stares at me, and I simply smirk back at her, acting innocently. "Either way, I'm sure he'll understand. You were drunk and you missed him, right?"
"Are you done?" she asks me, not waiting for my response as she stands up. I stand up too and look down at her, amused at how upset she seems.
"You're wearing red," I say, to which she responds by forcefully brushing past me.
"Ryan bought it," she answers, leaving me at the bedroom door. By the time we've left her complex, I've already made up in my arrogant mind that I'm going to kiss her again tonight, one way or another. I wonder if it'll still be an accident then...
------
Amelia.
I was drunk. I missed Ryan. At least, that's what I keep telling myself. The car ride to the banquet was eerily quiet on mine and Owen's part. Ryan and Becca seemed to be chatting up a storm about LA while Owen and I sat like two grouches in the car. Occasionally, Ryan would look at me and squeeze my hand, and I'd smile back at him and nod. Other than that, I'd look outside the window or anywhere other than at the rear-view mirror, because every time I looked there, I'd see Owen staring back at me with those piercing blues.
I was drunk. I missed Ryan. That's it.
---
The second we get to the banquet, I head straight for the bar with Ryan. I've been using his presence as an Owen repellent, as bad as that sounds. Don't get me wrong, I do love Ryan and genuinely enjoy his presence, but Owen is literally tearing my heart between the two of them and now I don't know how I feel about anything anymore.
I look across at the room and notice Owen in the corner, talking to Jackson. He only glances at me once, but it's enough for me to turn my back to them and face the bar once again.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Ryan asks as he watches me down my fifth shot in a row.
"I'm celebrating," I lie as I take out my credit card, "I'm going to be a grandmother soon."
He smiles at me and shakes his head. "Are you really that excited about being labelled that?"
"Of course I am," I scoff as I take his hand. He knows I'm lying, so he laughs as I lead him. "Let's go introduce you to my colleagues."
At some point in the night, despite my efforts of keeping Ryan close by, Owen eventually finds me in a moment of solitude by the bar.
"You're avoiding me," I hear his voice, clear above the music. I'm facing the bar while he's facing the crowd, leaning against the bar table.
"No I'm not." I take a sip of the drink in my hand, trying to slow my heart. "I've just been officially introducing Ryan to everyone."
He scoots closer to me and mutters, "It looks more like you're staying close to him so I can't reach you."
Crap. "That's an interesting hypothesis," I say, downing the rest of my drink. When I rest the glass back on the table, Owen's hand covers mine. It's warm and inviting and sends sparks of electricity up my arm. My stomach churns in response as my mind involuntarily flashes back to when we kissed.
"Amelia," he says, turning his body towards me, "Look at me." I breathe slowly and try once again not to linger on the way my name rolls off his tongue so easily, but it's beginning to get harder and harder to ignore him. "Please," he begs. It's all the convincing I need to look at him. The second our eyes meet, he tilts his head and smirks at me. "I know you were drunk, but I doubt you missed Ryan at that specific point in time." I gulp as he tears apart my lie, unable to defend myself. My eyes dart to his lips and I watch as they form a cocky smile, because he knows I'm watching them. I want to kiss him again, and he knows it.
"Let's dance!" Ryan shouts as he joins our nonverbal conversation. Immediately, we pull our hands away from each other and my feelings of lust turn into guilt. Ryan doesn't wait for my response, taking my hand and pulling me to the dance floor instead as Owen watches me with what I can only describe as ego. He knows that our kiss is living in my mind, rent free.
"What were you guys talking about?" Ryan drunkenly asks, speaking a little too loud, "You both looked pretty serious. Did a patient die?"
I look at Ryan, at his perfect hair and sparkling blue eyes, at his lopsided grin and short stubble. What is wrong with me? "No. No one died. We were just...talking." I look back at the bar, but Owen is no longer there.
"Oh okay," he shrugs, simply ditching the topic, "Did I forget to mention how amazing you look tonight?"
I look at Ryan and smile at him, genuinely amused by how drunk he is right now. "This is the fifth time you're saying it, actually."
"Well, for the sixth time, you look amazing," he tells me regardless. He kisses me on my cheek, and he turns us as we dance. That's when I see Owen.
He's dancing with Becca but doesn't seem too interested in the activity because his eyes are zoned in on me and have probably been for a while. Once again, my heart flutters in my chest and my stomach somersaults as his gaze pierces my entire being. His eyes are analysing me from head to toe, and I know it's because I'm wearing what he told me to wear, which is a funny coincidence in itself as Ryan bought the dress without my knowing. It's not as funny of a coincidence now as I see Owen basically ogling at me from across the room. Before I know it, the room is twice as hot and I'm feeling dizzy and out of breath. I need to get out of here.
"I need to go to the bathroom," I tell Ryan, pulling away from him a bit too quickly.
He can see that something's off with me. "Are you okay? Do you want me to come with you?"
"No, no," I dismiss him, already backing away from him, "I'll be fine." I walk off quickly, before he can protest, and go to the nearest exit. As soon as I reach on the other side, I press my back against the cool wall of the hallway and look up at the ceiling, breathing slowly and deeply. Get it together, I say to myself over and over, hoping the words will calm my mind. I'm almost back to feeling okay again when Owen bursts through the same door I came through. Of course he had to make an appearance just when I was starting to feel in control again.
"Really, Owen?" I growl, strutting angrily down the hall to get away from him. I don't want to be around him, near him, or even in the same room as him.
"Amelia, wait," he calls after me, following me. I dart into the closest room, attempting to lock the door behind me and failing miserably because I'm starting to get sloppy drunk. He opens the door and slips into the room, closing it behind him. I expect him to say something, but he just stares at me.
"What, Owen?" I exclaim after an annoying period of silence.
"Are you okay?" he asks me.
I furrow my eyebrows at him. "Am I okay?!"
"I just..." he stutters. Clearly he hadn't thought of what he was going to say when we were finally alone.
"You are seeing someone, Owen," I complain, pinching the bridge of my nose, "And I am with Ryan. This is not okay."
"I know, I know," he assures me.
"Then stop looking at me like that!" I hiss, poking him in the centre of his chest. He watches in confusion as my finger bounces off his chest. "I can't think or breathe when you look at me like that so just stop!" I feel my eyes watering with all the frustration. "I like Ryan. I love him. He is perfect for me, and we get along well, Owen. For once in my life, I'm happy." I feel tears coming to my eyes. "Why are you trying to ruin this for me?"
From the way his facial expression looks, I can tell that he genuinely feels bad about this entire situation. "Just stop?"
"Yes!" I huff, glad that he's understood my command.
"Amelia, do you think I want to ruin your relationship?" he asks me, raising one of his eyebrows, "That I want to ruin your happiness?" He walks over to the exam table and rests his hands on it, breathing deeply. "I wish I could look at anyone but you," he chuckles bitterly. He turns around and looks at me again, his eyes softening when they meet mine. "I wish I could just feel normal, hell, that I could feel nothing when I see you with him." He looks away and wipes his beard, shaking his head. "You make it impossible for me to look at anyone else in the room." He walks towards me, standing a few inches away now. "I would give anything to not be looking at you." A stark silence follows his speech. I'm at a loss for words. I watch as he steps closer to me and mimics what I did to him yesterday. His hand cups my cheek as his thumb brushes against my bottom lip. "More so, I wish you hadn't worn this dress."
And then, he kisses me. The sparks of electricity, from before, come back in full force and I find myself dropping my purse so I can snake both my hands in his hair. The kiss is passionate and sloppy and sexy, and it takes my breath away instantly. I feel Owen's hands circle around my waist, pulling me closer. He turns me around and walks us backwards towards the exam table, where he lifts me onto it. We're on the same level now as he stops kissing me and just stares at me. Our noses are touching, nuzzling each other as we stare into one another eyes. My heart is pounding against my chest so loudly that I'm sure Owen can hear it. I scratch my fingers against his scalp and feel his erection push against me in response. It's all the encouragement I need to start kissing him again. His hands move to the shoulders of my dress, where they begin to tug at my straps. It's like we're in a completely different world, that is, up until someone opens the exam room door.