Page 293 of The Hopelessly Bromantic Duet

I scoff. “Are you kidding me? I love it.”

Owen smiles, like I’ve stolen the sun for him, given it to him as a gift. “Good,” he says, then takes off his glasses and sets them on the edge of the tub. He closes his eyes, lifts his face to the night sky. Like that, with his eyes shut, I study his handsome features. Those lips I got to know intimately tonight. The strong lines of his jaw. His carved cheekbones. Those eyes that see inside me.

“How long have you worn glasses?” I blurt out.

His eyes fly open. “Since I was four,” he says.

The image of a young Owen in glasses is almost too much for me to handle. “You must’ve looked adorable.”

“Yeah, I looked fantastic. A near-sighted kid who could barely see a thing, tripping all over in his own house, needing glasses at a ridiculously young age.”

“Can you see without them at all?” I ask, suddenly eager to gobble up every last fact about Owen Hayes. I’m desperate to know him better, to hear the secrets no one else is privy to. I want him to share the hidden corners of his heart and mind just with me.

“A little. Everything’s kind of blurry that’s more than a few feet away,” he says, squinting as he stares in the distance at the hills coated in snow. “All I see is a canvas of white.”

“But you took them off during sex,” I say.

Owen swings his gaze to me. “Well, you’re close now and you were pretty close then, River. I was able to see all of you and I was definitely able to get a good visual on your dick.” He slides a hand along my thigh under the water, grabbing my leg. “My, what a big cock you have, dear. This is your cock, right?”

“Yes, you got my third leg,” I say, then his hand sneaks between my thighs, and he gives my dick a squeeze. “Ah, got it now.”

Owen lets go, but I’m not satisfied. I’m ravenous for every last bit of info. “Do you ever leave your glasses on during sex? Would you? Or is it the sock rule?”

His lips curve into a curious grin. “Well, do my glasses destroy your erection?”

I shake my head. “The opposite. They enhance it.”

“Do you have a glasses fetish, River?”

“No, I just think they’re super-hot. But evidently, I find everything about you super-hot,” I say, waving a hand at him.

“Is that so?” He sounds thoroughly delighted.

“Yes,” I say, no teasing, no flirting. Just the plain truth. “Though, honestly, I always knew you were gorgeous. But apparently, I’m just realizing tonight how attracted I am to you. It’s kind of hitting me hard, and all at once.”

“Thank you,” Owen says, then parts his lips like he’s going to say more, but instead, he just adds another “Thank you.”

He sounds grateful, but now I wonder—do I sound like I only want the physical with him? Like I’m simply objectifying him for the way he looks? Like a hot, built, Clark Kent lookalike I want to bang?

Ugh. It does sound that way. Even though that’s not the full truth. I want to bang, kiss, and cuddle him.

Then see him again tomorrow.

This is why it’s so hard to mess around with a friend. Do I talk to Owen like any other guy I’m dating? Do I ask if he’d consider me as boyfriend material?

But on the other hand, if he says yes, am I truly ready for the risk?

What if we don’t work out as a couple?

Tonight, we’re all new and electric. But this is a honeymoon. What would we be like in three months, six, a year? Would I fall out of desire for him? Would he for me? And would we truly stayfriends? I’m not convinced we could, and the possibility of us splintering feels like losing a vital piece of my heart and soul.

My head spins with too many terrible outcomes, so I shift gears. “What were you like in high school?”

Owen laughs. “Do you mean if I was a jock or a nerd or a popular or a geek?”

My eyes roam up and down his chest. “No. What were you like? Were you outgoing? Were you quiet? Were you friendly? What did you do on weekends? I already know you wrote for the school newspaper and did the morning news. And let me tell you, if I saw you on my high school TV station, I would have always known whether we were having quinoa or tofu for lunch.”

“Is that what your high school served?”

---