Page 45 of Addicted

Owen gave him a watery smile, reaching for his water glass and clinking it against Finn’s root beer. “Very good friends.”

“And you might have Liam.”

“So, you’re okay with it now?”

“I don’t know.” Finn shrugged, stealing a piece of Owen’s abandoned sashimi. “Are you?”

Owen stared absently at the fish tank across the room, watching an orange and black oscar wobble back and forth.WasOwen okay with this? How had Liam gone from someone Owen wasn’t allowed to have feelings for to someone Owen was defending his feelings for? In the beginning, Liam had been a fixation, someone Owen felt he’d wronged, someone else who needed his apology, but once Liam had landed in his life again, either through chance or fate, he was full of surprises. Liam had a soothing presence and the silence between them these past two days had left another void in Owen’s life. As the project was nearing its end, Owen found that he didn’t want Liam to go back downstairs. He wanted to spend as much time with Liam as he could, get to know him better, make him smile, and make him happy.

So much had been taken from Owen that maybe - just maybe - he was allowed this.

“Dammit, you really like him.” Finn ripped Owen from his thoughts with an eye-roll, taking a swig from his root beer.

“You can tell?” Owen could feel the heat across the top of his cheeks.

“You’re all moonfaced. I’ve never seen you like this before.” Finn grinned. “It’s gross.”

“Thanks. But I still don’t know what to do.”

“You take it slow.” The waitress strolled by and Finn gestured for the check. “Now, let’s go back so I can get that tour and meet Liam.”

16

LIAM

Liamcurledundertheblanket until his knees hit the wall and the mattress pressed into his back. With the lights off and curtains drawn it was pitch black in his cocoon, which he hadn’t needed in ages, but the almost-kiss had left Liam’s brain too full of questions, none of which had been answered in the last few days.

Whatwasthat between him and Owen? Was it a kiss? Could that even be possible? Was Owen bisexual? Or gay? Was that why Sharon cheated on him? Was Liam crazy? Were the drugs finally warping his mind?

It only took a few hours post-incident for Liam to fully convince himself that Owen wasn’t trying to kiss him. Obviously, he’d misinterpreted everything and made Owen awkward, maybe even ruined their friendship. But he couldn’t deny that something had happened between them so he was back on theDid Owen try to kiss me?train by the end of the day and had only flipped back and forth since then.

It didn’t help that they’d been avoiding each other. Liam had wandered The Pointe after Owen backed out of their lunch, not returning to the office until Owen had left, and not a single text had passed between them since. Liam could initiate but he was far too confused to do so and as the hours passed it became harder and harder to try.

He finally had the space that he’d wanted and he hated it. Owen must be avoiding him for bad reasons, who avoided someone for good reasons? Either Liam had messed up or Owen did try to kiss him and was regretting it. Neither of those things made Liam happy but he’d been over this before, nothing made him happy. He’d been miserable for far too long; it was soaking into his bones.

But deep down he knew that he might be happy with Owen, or as close as he could come to it. Whenever Owen touched him, he felt a little less cracked, like the chasm might one day fill. Whatever light Owen possessed slipped into Liam’s broken parts, warming them from the inside out. If he was honest with himself, he wanted Owen with every fiber of his being. It was selfish and stupid because he couldn’t give Owen what he needed but he still unreasonably yearned for the man.

Staring into the darkness around him, Liam allowed himself to fantasize, but the scenario didn’t star Ideal Owen; he had been fading over the past six weeks, overtaken by Real Owen. Although Liam had always pushed the thoughts away, not wanting to make things worse, he started to envision what it would be like if Real Owen had feelings for him, for Liam needed something to hold onto, something more metaphysical than the blanket he was clutching.

Owen would be gentle with Liam, running those large hands over his body with reverence, cherishing him. His kisses would be deep and tender but full of heat. Liam wondered what Owen would taste like. He’d kissed a few boys in high school, even had his first time with one of them, but he was sure they wouldn’t compare to Owen.

It took a moment for Liam to realize he was hard and leaking. Usually, he would ignore it, refocus his thoughts, or distract himself, but he was far too wrapped up in Owen’s phantom kisses so he slid his hand under his pajama pants and ran the heel of his palm down his length.

He imagined Owen naked over him, the body he’d seen in the pool every summer now on display for him to touch, which Liam eagerly did, exploring Owen’s broad shoulders and firm pectorals, feeling hard nipples under his palms, the soft curls of chest hair between his fingers.

His breathing became harsh and he tossed the blanket off with his other arm, suddenly hot. He didn’t think he’d ever been this hard, his dick was like steel, scorching in his fist as he began to pump, thinking about the line of hair that ran from Owen’s stomach, how it spread out in thick curls as it sank lower, framing a magnificent cock.

Orgasm glimmered in the distance so Liam skipped ahead to where Owen took that beautiful dick and slowly pushed it inside. Liam’s hole pulsed as he imagined the thickness stretching him, filling him. It had been so long that Liam was practically a born-again virgin. He had a couple of toys but none of them were as big as what he was picturing.

His hand sped up until it was a blur on his cock and he pressed his forehead against the wall, envisioning Owen’s touch everywhere, his warmth, his sweat, his words. How he would praise Liam, tell him that he was good, tight, beautiful. And how he’d stare deeply into Liam’s eyes, breaking him apart with a single sentence.

“I love you.”

Crying out, Liam painted his fist and the inside of his pants, as his body wracked with pleasure. He lost himself for a few moments, floating somewhere that Vicodin never took him, somewhere without grief, somewhere full of contentment.

But he descended as he always did, the serenity vanishing and guilt filling its seat as he blinked back into the world. He shouldn’t have done that. Owen wasn’t an enhanced figment from Liam’s past anymore. He was a real person, someone who Liam worked with every day, someone who was struggling and had been nothing but caring to Liam and this is how Liam repaid him?

Liam’s vision blurred and a tear slid down his temple into his ear. He was disgusting. How could he face Owennow?

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