Page 21 of Filthy Sweet

“Well, you’ll be with me, so everyone will naturally think you’re cool and intimidating.”

He laughs. “Maybe you could come with me everywhere, then.”

I push my hand through my hair, choosing to ignore how much I like that idea. “Act like yourself,” I answer seriously. “You’re sweet and funny and smart. Just relax and enjoy yourself and try not to overthink it.”

“Literally, the only thinking I do is overthinking.”

I chuckle. “Then don’t think at all,” I tease him. “And let me get you a drink. That helps, too.”

The show is at a small midcentury theater that’s been converted into a rock venue, and the first band is pouring their hearts out when we arrive. The lineup has a country and western flavor to it, although the cramped crowd is more music industry professional than it is fans.

I lead Owen straight to backstage, ignoring the main entrance. “How’s your job?” I ask him. “Outside of preoccupying you.”

“Good. We’re doing this migratory exhibit…” He trails off as a heavily tattooed woman passes us and a fiddle solo pours out of the speakers. “I won’t bore you about it, but it’s fun, and I get to throw myself into research, which is one of my favorite things.”

I hold the door for him, and we step into the relative quiet of the backstage area. “Why would it bore me?”

He adjusts his glasses, glancing around at our surroundings. “We’re at a rock concert. You don’t want to hear about elephant seal migration.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Try me.”

Owen scrunches up his mouth and twists it to the side, trying to hide his smile. “Okay. Well, people think of seals being on the beach, right? But elephant seals only come to shore twice a year. The rest of the time, they’re on the move. The males go north, all the way from California to the Gulf of Alaska, and the females go out west, deeper into the Pacific for months.” He tilts his head, looking out at the band on the stage, visible through curtains. “Today, I was learning about the ways their route is shifting in relation to climate change,” he adds.

“Huh.”

He sighs. “What? Boring, right? Why would you care?”

“No.” I offer him a smile. “I want to ask about how they sleep when they’re out swimming for so long.” I shrug. “I always thought I would have studied science if I hadn’t dropped out of school.”

“Oh.” Owen relaxes into a soft smile. “They sleep on their dives, actually. They catch a nap while they’re sinking down.” He adjusts his glasses. “I guess I can tell you more about the seals sometime?”

“I’d like that.” I tilt my eyes into the backstage area, where the double doors to the big lounge are open. “You ready to make an appearance?”

Owen straightens his posture. “Sure! I just need to stand by you and look… boyfriendy?”

I chuckle. “Good point.” I rub my thumb over my jaw, tracing the stubble, which isn’t nearly as satisfying as feeling Owen’s face would be. “I’m not exactly affectionate with other people in public. Not unless we’re about to fuck.”

Owen blushes and looks down.

I wonder if he might have a crush on me, too. From what Reggie says, he’s just shy in general, and he’s actually been relaxing around me, when I think about it. We’re really not compatible, but we clearly appreciate each other.

“I’ll just laugh at your jokes,” Owen says. “And you can put your arm around my shoulders or something if you decide you want to.”

He looks up a little bit when he says that, his pink lips softly parted and the blunt, white edge of his teeth visible. The gentle need in his expression hits me in the gut, and without even thinking about it, I throw my arm over his shoulder and pull him to my side, where he fits perfectly.

“Let’s get a drink,” I say and walk us into the lounge.

People nod and greet me without starting conversations, and I find a very visible spot at the end of the bar, then order a couple of cocktails. Music echoes from the stage, and all the attention is focused on Sue, the lead singer of Butterfly Susan, who noodles her guitar and chats with her boyfriend.

I raise my glass to Owen. “Cheers.”

He clinks his glass with mine. “To my first backstage pass. Are you getting seen by the right people?”

I shrug and sip my whiskey soda. “Seems like it. I just hope I’m not giving them the wrong impression by showing up.”

“Wrong impression?”

I nod toward Sue and lower my voice. “That I actually like this band.”

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