Page 23 of Fragile Hearts

I pull open the drawer to the nightstand, taking out that little device Alana gifted me after a breakup with a guy who refused to do anything but missionary position. It’s one of those things that lick and suck, and it’s going to have to do because I’m a mess right now.

After my battery-operated morning in the shower, I’m dressed, and the house is quiet. Today is the housewarming party that Owen suggested we throw, but I think he was just looking for an excuse to have a party.

I’m off work, and since it’s a Saturday, neither Owen nor I have class. I’m sure he’s out on the water already this morning, and I poke my head out the back door to see his surfboard gone.

Mochi’s curled up on a little bed that Owen bought him out on the screened-in porch, loving being outside and loving to wake up early with Owen.

I’ve been leaving my door cracked open so Mochi can come and go, and as soon as I see Mochi here by the door, I realize Owen may have heard me this morning.

I really fucking hope I didn’t call out his name during my pornographic dream. He would have heard me for sure, and I scan my memory, trying to remember everything I said.

“Oh god,” I moan, my hands over my face, and it’s possible I said these same words just a little while ago.

I open the fridge, checking to see if there’s anything we need, and it looks as if Owen already went to the store this morning. It’s packed with fruit and beer, burgers and some salads. He didn’t even wait for me to help out, not that I should be surprised, but I am.

“Mochi,” I call, talking to the dog like he can understand every word I say. His head tilts as I speak. “Where’s Owen? Out surfing? Can you believe he bought everything for the party?” Mochi barks, spinning around, and I scoop him up.

I kiss Mochi’s head before putting him back down and letting him know I’m going to run to the store. The other day at work, Owen’s mom mentioned how much Owen loves these malasadas from this bakery, and even though he doesn’t know I had a dirty dream about him, I feel like I need to either thank him or apologize. What better way to do that than with his favorite donut?

When I walk in, Owen is in the kitchen now, and my mind instantly flashes to my dream. I need to stop picturing Owen on his knees in front of me.

His hair is wet, and he’s shirtless. I think he’s shirtless more than anything, with it always tossed over his shoulder or tucked into the waistband of his boardshorts.

“Hey,” I say, and he turns around, a smile on his face, that dimple appearing as his smile widens. “I brought you a surprise.”

He pauses for a second, swallowing hard, his cheeks flushing a little, and all I can think is that he did hear me this morning.

“I hope the surprise is you,” he now says, but his words are quiet, and his cheeks redden even more. It’s so adorable and sweet how he’s flirting with me, but he’s also nervous.

“It’s not me, cheeky boy.” With the box in my hand, I meet him at the counter. Setting it down, I open it. “It’s malasadas from Harriette’s. Your mom told me they’re your favorite.”

“Taking notes on what I like?”

“Maybe.” I smile at him, shy and simple, trying not to think about him naked, but my mind is feeling extra dirty today.

“Knock, knock!” a voice calls, and Miles walks in from the back porch carrying a case of beer in one hand and a bag of ice tucked under his arm. “Let’s get this party started.”

Behind him is Kai, and as he walks in, with him comes his usual smell of surf wax and weed. He’s pretty much the epitome of the laid-back, slacker surfer. In a way, it’s kind of cute. He snags plenty of girls here on vacation with it. Teaches them to surf, sleeps with them, and leaves them with a great story.

Daisy comes in a few seconds later, a bucket of margarita mix and a bottle of tequila. She sets it on the counter, and as soon as Miles sees her, he heads back outside onto the porch.

“Want to see my room?” I ask Daisy. She hasn’t been here since I moved in, so I guess it does make sense to have a housewarming party. “Come on,” I add, taking her by the wrist and tugging her in the direction of the hallway. It’s more to just get her away from Owen so I can tell her about my dream. “I’ve got it all set up.”

“Yeah, sure,” she says, giving me a funny look, but she follows me anyway.

“I have my own bathroom,” I tell her, pointing to it as we pass, and while it connects to my bedroom, it also has a door to the hallway. “And that’s Owen’s room, and here’s mine. I have this?—”

“Okay, you can shut it now,” Daisy says, laughing, her foot pushing my door closed a little. “Tell me you’re having sex with sexy Owen Sinclair. And if you’re not, why the hell aren’t you?”

“Oh my god, Daisy, no I’m not. He’s my roommate.”

She lets out a laugh, shaking her head. “That shouldn’t stop you. Come on. He’s rich. He looks fucking unreal with his shirt off, and I’m sure he has a huge dick.”

“What?” I spit out, the shock echoing through the bedroom and probably making its way out to the kitchen too. “How the hell do you know that?”

“Once when we were in high school, he lost a bet to Miles and had to wear this speedo to school and run through the common area. The damn thing could barely contain him,” Daisy says, her hands forming into two fists that she places in front of her crotch.

I burst out laughing at her lewd gesture, and she pretends to jerk off, which only makes me laugh harder. Tears streaming down my cheeks.

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