Page 58 of Filthy Sweet

I finish my bourbon. “Sure,” I say, and shift in my seat.

Owen laughs. “I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “It’s just… you’re nervous!”

I scowl. “I am not.”

He laughs again. “Yes, you are. You’re never nervous, but I can totally tell.” Owen releases a happy sigh. “It’s just nice to be on even ground.”

I grunt under my breath. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” I say, then rub the back of my head. “I’ve never had a conversation like this before.”

“Neither have I. But I’m sure we can figure it out.”

His bare feet push against mine under the table. It’s a little gesture, but it goes a long way to grounding me.

“I like you,” I tell Owen, and the smile grows on his face. “And I want to keep seeing you. Not just for sex, but this other stuff, too. Dinner. Museums. Just hanging out.”

Owen nods. “Agreed. I want that, too.”

I sigh, relieved. “Great. That wasn’t hard.”

Owen laughs. “Fox, that’s not the end of the conversation. We have to talk about what we want from each other, what commitments we want to make, where this is going.”

The wordcommitmentsends a bolt of panic through me, but I manage to hide it. “Okay. Well, I want you,” I tell Owen. “And like I told you at the concert, I’ll be happy to stop fucking other people while we’re seeing each other. I haven’t been doing that anyway.” I rub my jaw. “That’s what you mean by commitments?”

Owen blinks, then stands abruptly. “I want you, too,” he says, taking my hand, and then guides me around the table. He walks us over to the couch, and I try not to get distracted by the peach of his ass, perfectly cupped in those panties.

We sit facing each other, still holding hands. “We’ll be monogamous,” Owen says, nodding. “And even if you don’t want a long-term partner, I’m still going to work hard to make sure you’re happy, and that I treat you right while we are together.”

“It’s not that.” I squeeze his hand. I’m frustrated with myself—that I don’t know how to talk, that I can’t figure out the right thing to say to make him feel special right now. “I told you. The idea of settling down with someone is nice. I just can’t.”

“Because of your past?” Owen asks, confused.

“I don’t know. My life clashes with happy, normal relationships.” It sucks to say that, but if this is going to keep happening, it’s better to make sure Owen understands the truth. “I’m good for fun, you know?”

Owen frowns. “You don’t clash with normal and happy, Fox. I feel totally safe with you.”

My chest is tight. It’s nice to hear those words on his lips, but they terrify me, too.

“Thanks,” I manage, my voice rough. “I, uh, feel safe with you, too.”

“Maybe we don’t have to have a happy, normal relationship,” Owen says. “Maybe we can have a happy, freaky relationship instead.”

“Who you calling freaky?” I tease.

“The man who insisted he shove a butt plug in my ass at the museum.”

I chuckle. “Fair point.”

“I’m still not entirely sure what kind of relationship I’m looking for in the long run,” Owen admits. “And it sounds like you’re not sure, either. But maybe we can help each other figure that out?”

I relax, warmth humming through my body. I’m not sure how, but Owen finds a way to make the most complicated things seem easy.

I’m lucky he’s so damn smart.

“Yeah,” I answer, then squeeze his hand, rubbing my thumb over the backs of his knuckles. “I do want that.”

A smile fills Owen’s face, and the next thing I know, we’re kissing, rubbing our bodies up close. The doubts that had clouded my mind disappear, and I taste Owen with every kiss. I make a promise to myself that I’ll treat him right, and that as long as I have him, Owen will be happy and safe.

When he suggests we head back upstairs, I pause first with my phone. I’m going to have to have a long talk with Reggie soon. If Owen and I are trying for something more, I need to get my best friend’s blessing. There’s no time for that tonight, but I’m still craving reassurance that this is all okay.

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