“Should we head back?” Will asks. “I’m up early tomorrow.”
“Well, that depends.” Owen crosses his arms, looking serious. “Was this a one-time thing?”
Will is taken aback by the direct question, but he doesn’t need to think hard to find an answer. “I would like for us to hang out again.” The wordsas friendsdance at the tip of his tongue, but he fails to get them out, eventhough he knows they can be no more than that. He does want to find someone someday, because loneliness—even though it can be addicting—is not how his heart is wired. But having a partner in Van Buren is asking for trouble, and Owen doesn’t deserve that, especially if he came here to stay away from trouble.
Will orders the check and puts it on his card, even though Owen requests to split. It’s not a date, but Will’s mom raised him to be a gentleman.
They drive back with little conversation, and the songs on the radio are good enough to make their silence pleasant.
“You can drop me off at the square,” Owen says.
Will is about to say that he can drop him off at his house, but then he remembers whose house that is. The thought of Sheryl seeing them together after a night out is chilling.
“Okay,” he says as they enter town. It doesn’t take more than three minutes to reach the main square.
“So, was I good company?” Owen asks once they park.
“Of course you were.”
“Cool. Hmm, can I maybe have your number? I won’t prank call you.”
“Sure.” He takes out a piece of paper and a pen from the glove compartment and writes down his home number. Maybe one day he’ll get himself one of those cellular phones that cost a thousand bucks, but not any time soon.
Owen takes the note and slips it into his pocket. “I can give you my home number too, but… better not.”
Will nods. He can’t think of a possible reason for him to willingly risk a phone call with Sheryl.
Owen exits the car and leans with his hands on the open window. Even with so little light, he’s still beautiful. “I had the best night since I got here. Thank you, Will.”
“It was fun for me, too. Have a good night.”
He watches Owen walk away until he’s no longer visible. Alone in the quiet of his car, doubts rise to the surface. This wasn’t a date, but the little wings flapping in his stomach claim otherwise.
He’d be wise to clip those wings fast, because Owen doesn’t deserve that shitstorm.
He starts the car and begins to drive. For a second, he thinks there’s a police car on one of the streets leading to the square, but it must just be his imagination.
Chapter 9
Owen
“You’re in a good mood,” his aunt says as she enters the kitchen.
Owen lowers the spoon of cereal he was about to slip into his mouth. “How do you know what mood I’m in?”
“I make a living seeing through people’s crap. You could say I have a sixth sense.”
“Can you do magic tricks?”
“Watch it.” She goes to make herself a coffee, already in her uniform.
“It’s because of my new job,” he says.
She eyes him suspiciously. “Being a librarian must be more exciting than I thought.”
“It is.” He eats his cereal, trying not to look too happy. It’s hard, though, since all he can think of is his evening out with Will. It came out of nowhere, and now it almost feels like a sweet dream. At least he still has Will’s number as proof that it indeed happened.
“You were at Rodie’s last night?” his aunt asks beforesipping from her coffee.
