Page 23 of Yield to Me

My heart sank, knowing that our time together might already be winding down. The server took our orders, and we spent the next hour eating and chatting easily, like we had known each other for ages. I learned that on top of the most popular coffee shop in all of San Francisco and a private sadomasochistic nightclub, Owen owned a medical equipment research and manufacturing company, an investment firm, and many other properties, and sponsored two full-ride undergraduate scholarships to the Foundations For the Arts. It was a relief to know that his sponsorship to the Foundation focused on undergraduates, but he still donated to the Foundation overall.

“I like to keep it interesting,” he said. “You never know what those aspiring artists are going to come up with next. And I can’t sit still. I need new experiences, whether it’s work or play.” He paused, looking out the window next to us, watching a co-ed group cross the street. “We’re buying a medical equipment distributor on the east coast soon, and another in the south.”

I felt that pit in my stomach again. It doesn’t matter if he’s moving, I told myself, He’s probably already bored of you anyway. “You’re moving on from dear old San Francisco then?” I asked, trying to seem unphased.

“It’s long overdue,” he said. There was a reluctance in his voice as he said this, like he wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to do it, but that he knew it was inevitable. “I’m looking forward to it.” His smile seemed forced, and I knew my own face held the same kind of tension. “It won’t be for a while,” he added.

It was comforting that we still had some time left to get to know each other, and even more comforting that he seemed to want me to know that. But I was careful not to seem too pleased. “Well, I hope you get everything you desire,” I said. I blushed, thinking of what we had done at his house. “With the business, I mean.”

He grinned. “I will,” he winked. He reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “With pleasure.”

“Oh, will you?” I smiled coyly, trying to tuck away the sadness in my voice. “And how will you do it, Mister Two Date Maximum?”

“That’s still to be decided, Miss I Just Want To Have Fun.” He snickered. “And I quote, ‘I’m not looking for a relationship either.’”

Touché, I thought. “You’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?”

“I know enough to know that what we’re doing is dangerous,” he paused, making strong eye contact with me. “For both of us,” he added.

I looked out the window, watching the steam from the vents of the restaurants and clubs pouring into the night sky. There weren’t many stars out, but there never were in the city. The lights on the buildings made up for it, at least I told myself they did. Sometimes I wished I lived somewhere where you could see the stars at any time of the night; clear skies, cities miles and miles away, the comforting solitude of knowing you were safe by yourself. But even that thought didn’t seem right anymore. I knew Owen was changing me, even as early as that moment, but I didn’t want to admit it.

“Why did she leave you?” I asked.

Owen lifted his eyebrow, and his expression changed to melancholy. I almost regretted asking such a private question, but I couldn’t help it. I needed to know what had happened to make Owen, a person as insanely confident as he was, hide his heart for so many years, to only recently come out of protection, and to still only give away his body. Not even that, I realized. He hadn’t even asked me to pleasure him. Maybe he only gave pleasure. Maybe receiving pleasure was too vulnerable for him.

“She said she wasn’t enough for me,” he said. He looked out the window. “That I scared her,” he added. That surprised me. What we had done a few hours earlier didn’t seem like enough of a reason to break off of a relationship, especially one that was years in the making. It was hard to imagine what would finally end a relationship like that, and even harder to imagine Owen being that dark, and needing that much from someone. “Rumor has it she’s in Europe.” He paused, then added, “Married.”

A thought popped into my head. “That doesn’t seem suspicious to you?” I asked.

“What?”

“Isn’t it a Duke? Maybe she has a type,” I said slowly. I didn’t want to offend him. “Maybe she wanted mon—”

“The research facility was unreliable at the time,” he cut me off. His face darkened. “Money had nothing to do with our relationship,” he said sternly. Duly noted, I thought, Do not suggest a woman might be into Owen for his money. “I understand that my wealth and status is attractive to some, as it might be to you,” he glared at me. That wasn’t what I was implying at all. I was red with embarrassment. If my resistance to all of his offers to help me with the Foundation didn’t prove my stance on his status, then I would prove it to him in other ways that I truly didn’t give a rat’s ass about how much money he had. “She was used to a certain level of,” he paused, “comfort. But she stood by me for years, regardless of what I could provide financially.”

“Do you still love her?”

The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. It was easy to ask this now, without being too attached to him. After all, what did I have to lose? His face turned grave, which almost made me regret asking. Almost.

“I haven’t spoken to her in a long time. Haven’t even tried to.”

“How long?”

“Years,” he said. He tilted his head. “So many questions, Riley. What’s your reason to avoid relationships?”

I smiled. “I’ll tell you another time.”

Owen half smiled. “Already pushing your limits.”

I blushed. I looked down at the empty dish in front of me, working up the courage to say what I didn’t want to say. “Maybe we shouldn’t see each other again,” I said quietly.

After a long pause, Owen sighed. Reluctance hid behind his green eyes as he agreed with me. “It’s probably for the best,” he said.

“Is this what you want?” I asked.

“It’s what you need for your art, isn’t it? One of the reasons why you guard yourself.”

I didn’t know why I felt like crying, but I fought the urge and replaced it with resentment. Maybe if one of us fought for this, it wouldn’t be such a standstill. But I wasn’t going to be that person. “I’m not the only one who puts my career first, Mister Lowell.”

I knew the formality stung, but he shrugged. “I know what’s best.” He paused, then locked eyes with me. “For both of us.”

I made sure to pay for our meals, wanting to prove in a small way that I wasn’t using him for his money. As we waited to cross the street to our cars, I wrapped myself tighter in my coat. It was cold, sure, but I was feeling insecure, wanting to hide because I didn’t want to face the end of this. Owen placed an arm around me and pulled me close. My heart burned and my brain raged at the emotions coursing through my veins. You don’t want him like that, I told myself. It was sex, pure and simple sex. You used him like your past flings. Like he uses his supermodel women. I kept trying to convince myself of these thoughts, but it didn’t make it any easier. I looked up at him, wondering why doing the right thing felt so completely wrong. This is what I wanted, wasn’t it? To have sex with the beautiful, charming, intelligent Owen and to forget about him, like I had dismissed everyone else. He was searching me too, and I wondered if he was wondering the same thing. He saw the questions in my eyes, and he leaned down and kissed me, a gentle press against my lips. At least he wants me close right now, I thought, At least we have this moment. The signal changed and we both let go, crossing the street with our hands in our pockets.

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