Page 28 of Ship Happens

The way Jacob’s name comes out of Owen’s mouth is foreign. Sharp, cutting, like he’s using it as an insult. “I told you I could be civil, but that’s all I want. Okay?”

Jacob’s expression twists, his feelings hurt, and Owen feels like such an asshole. There’d been times when he’d accidentally wounded Jacob. Once, when they were goofing around, Jacob’s fingers digging into Owen’s armpits to tickle him, Owen’s elbow came around too fast, hitting Jacob right in the nose, blood pouring out of his right nostril.

Or when he accidentally snagged the elastic strap of Jacob’s windbreaker, the plastic piece that hung from the end snapping to hit Jacob’s brow.

But he’d never done anything to hurt Jacob on purpose.

That’d changed the night of their breakup, when Owen said things that he wanted to hurt Jacob with. Words that he can’t take back, words that he had to force out because he couldn’t believe them himself.

It’s easier now, and the idea of that makes Owen sick to his stomach. “I need to go back to the room,” Owen says flatly. “Alone.”

Jacob had always given Owen the space to be honest when he felt overstimulated. When they were out at the grocery store or shopping, Jacob always promised Owen that if he ever needed to leave a situation, then they could just leave.

And if Owen needed to be alone, well, then that was okay too.

“Okay . . .” Jacob hesitates. “I’ll tell Kaitlyn and Abby if they ask.”

Owen opens his mouth to say something else. A dozen different thoughts come to mind. But none of them feel like they’re enough. So he doesn’t say anything at all.

He just leaves.

Chapter Six

You’re Naked

Owen can’t be sure how long he sits in the tub.

Any time the water tiptoes toward lukewarm, he lets the faucet run for a little bit until it’s scalding again, steam rising off the surface as he sinks deeper and deeper into comfortable bliss.

He didn’t even bother to bring his phone, not wanting anyone to text him. He just needed to be alone for a minute. It’s been a long time since he felt that overstimulated. The bath helps, though. One usually does.

Pacific Coast Cruises provided an entire gift basket for each of the rooms that included toothpaste, deodorant, some lotions, face masks, and a few other miscellaneous necessities that any cruise-goer might’ve accidentally left the house without.

Including a pack of lemon-lavender-scented bath bombs.

Unfortunately for Owen, his and Kevin’s bathroom is the only room without a tub. And knowing his luck, he’d walk out of Kaitlyn and Abigail’s bathroom just in time to catch them getting frisky in bed or something. And while Owen’s seen more than his fair share of Kaitlyn and Abigail naked, he’s never seen them naked together, and he’d very much like to keep it that way.

So he’d awkwardly snuck his way into Jacob’s room, listening to the water fill up the tub, unable to stop himself from snooping through Jacob’s bathroom kit while he waited. Not that there was anything interesting, nothing other than the small bottle of cologne that Jacob has worn almost every day since long before they met.

Owen had even been stupid enough to buy himself a bottle after the breakup. A small one. Just enough to spritz his pillowcase every now and then.

Sighing as he rests his head against the small leather pillow sitting on the side of the tub, Owen wipes away the thin layer of sweat that covers his forehead with a washcloth, his deep-fried bleach-blond curls clinging to his forehead, appreciating the moisture probably.

Owen keeps his eyes closed, doing what he can to regulate his breathing.

In. And out.

He’d heard so much about Jacob before they met, when he introduced himself over FaceTime after accidentally stumbling into the background of a call. He’d seen photos and videos, heard all about what Jacob was doing while he wrapped up his last semester at Duke. Owen even attended Jacob’s graduation ceremony virtually from the comfort of Kaitlyn’s couch, cheering as Jacob’s name was called and smiling as he stumbled over himself on his way to getting his diploma.

That’s probably when the crush started. Watching how Jacob moved, almost like he’d never quite grown into his body. Like a newborn calf learning to walk or a puppy whose paws are too big. There wasn’t much to it, not at first. Those blossoming feelings that come with hardly knowing a thing about a person, more mysterious allure than anything else. They’d never had any real conversations, just stupid jokes and memes they sent over Instagram.

Then, one day, Owen accepted an invitation from Kaitlyn for Jacob’s moving-in party. It felt like the perfect chance to get to know his best friend’s brother. He’d even made sugar cookies, laboring over the oven as texts from his friends slowly began to roll into their group chat. One by one everyone dropped out of the plans, leaving Owen the only person who knocked on Jacob’s door.

Owen almost canceled on Jacob too.

Almost.

But he felt bad, and he didn’t like the idea of Jacob being in his apartment all alone on his first full night in the city.