Page 49 of Filthy Sweet

Owen laughs. “Yup.”

“Hummingbird honeymoon.”

He laughs again. “Not exactly,” he yells over the music. “The males fly first, and when the females show up, it’s more like that party you took me to.”

I think about it, then laugh. “Oh yeah? Horny little birds.”

“Exactly,” Owen says, then clinks his glass to mine, sassy. “The whales, too, actually. They do triads instead of pairs, one female with two males, sometimes more.”

“Damn.” I grin. “You putting that in the exhibit?”

Owen laughs. “Probably not. I do think all the migrating for mating is fascinating, but I haven’t brought that up at work, for obvious reasons.”

I grunt. “Why not?”

Owen blinks behind his glasses, thinking about it. “I haven’t really thought about why. It just seemed like it was maybe too adult or something? But I guess it doesn’t have to be that way.”

I shrug. “I like hearing you talk about it. Want another drink?”

At the bar, I do what I can to keep my composure and resist the idea of dragging Owen backstage and fucking him like a rock star with a horny groupie. We have our date Sunday, and I’ll just hope that Owen has a chance to talk to Reggie before that, and everything will go smoothly.

I slump against the bar, again disappointed in myself, depressed that I might have gotten us all in too deep already.

Typical Wilder bullshit. This is why I’m probably meant to be alone.

When I return from the bar, I’m surprised to see Owen chatting happily with Aya Chen, an LA-based woman who works in television and streaming. She’s dressed in a stylish black dress, complete with frayed edges appropriate to the rock venue.

Music videos and streaming media are my weak spots. I tried to get Aya’s attention a few times since I broke into the business, but she’s always ignored me.

She ignores just about everyone, actually. Aya has hit the level of success that means she’s the one who sets the meetings, which makes it a little strange to see her talking with Owen.

“Fox,” Aya says evenly as I approach. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

I give Owen his drink and a smile, playing it cool. “You two have met, I take it?”

“Aya just introduced herself.”

“Owen was telling me about his work.”

“Right,” I answer carefully, not entirely sure what’s going on, except that I don’t trust it.

“Aya is a big donor to the natural history museum in Los Angeles,” Owen explains.

I eye Aya. “What brings you to town?”

A slight smile twitches the corner of her mouth. “Business, of course. But I did have time for a little leisure. I came in last weekend. The three of us were at the same party.”

“Oh?” Owen says brightly, then realizes what party that was. “Oh.”

Aya laughs warmly as she turns her eyes to me. “Charming scene with the curtain,” she says. “You actually looked chivalrous, Fox. I thought you were just a fuckboy. Maybe I was wrong.” She turns her eyes back to Owen with a smile. “Come to LA next weekend,” she says simply.

“LA?” I ask, ignoring her fuckboy dig.

Aya pulls her phone out, playing with it while she talks. “Palm Springs, actually. We’re shooting a music video, a new surf rock band I’m helping launch. But I was inviting your boyfriend.”

Owen tilts his head to the side. “Me?”

“I think you’d enjoy the desert. Gorgeous nature out there. And you can bring a plus one,” she adds dryly, then darts her eyes back to me. “I actually want to talk business with your other half, so long as he promises not to cause a scene. I might have an opportunity to discuss.”

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