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“The whole point is that it was my first year of college and I was trying really hard to be someone I wasn’t,” she explains her story to me like I’m three. “When my sorority sisters told me to be ready for a wild Halloween party, I thought they meant the revealing costumes and the whole bit. I wasn’t comfortable with it, but I was trying to be someone I wasn’t and did it.”

“Okay.” I sigh, waiting for her to make her point so we can crack open the booze.

“Just ignore him, I get what you’re saying.” Owen hangs on her every word.

“Anyway, so we get to my English Lit professor’s house and they open the door and everyone inside is dressed in Oscar Wilde costumes. Like one is Dorian Gray and she’s holding a photoshopped picture of her looking old, another is done up as the actual author.”

“Oh no!” Owen claps his hands together like he’s watching the plot twist in the greatest movie he’s ever seen.

“Yep. I wanted to die. I had this little costume on that was up to here and down to there.” She points at her upper thighs, hidden under her long skirt. “Anyway, my professor answers the door and I immediately realize the wild party was actually supposed to be a Wilde party, like with an E at the end.”

“What did you do?” Owen prods her.

“I pretended I was a housekeeper and had the wrong house.” She blushes furiously. Pink crests over her milky skin, making her almost glow in the low light.

“Ahh, good thinking.” He nods. “Great story.” He laughs.

“Yep, I learned right then that’s just not me. The sexy costumes, being the bad girl, it’s just not in my blood.” She pushes her glasses up her nose and sits a little taller. “The one time I tried, it was a disaster, so the way I figure it, that’s just life’s way of nudging me back on the right path. I guess that’s why I write the kind of books that I do, I’m just a romantic at heart.”

For a second they both stare at each other. It’s like they don’t even remember I’m here. I know that dumb love-struck look on his face all too well. Owen falls for women fast and hard. His heart is always firmly attached to his sleeve. It’s been that way since Betsy-Ann in grade two and it hasn’t changed.

From the goo-goo eyes she’s giving him, I can see the feeling is mutual.

“I mean, you missed a real opportunity though didn’t you?” I watch as she rolls her eyes exaggeratedly and looks back to me.

“What are you talking about?”

“Didn’t you say you were failing that class?”

“Your point?” She stands up and starts clearing her plate from the table, clearly not interested in what I have to say.

“Well, why didn’t you go in there? Really explore that wild side? Maybe you could’ve seduced your professor in your little costume. Or maybe you could’ve offered him your A for an A, if you catch my drift.”

Mary turns and freezes, her mouth dropping open with shock. “What did you say…?”

Owen kicks me under the table, hard, and gives me a pointed glare. “Ignore him.” He jumps in. “The guy’s been out in the woods too long. He’s clearly forgotten how to act in front of a proper lady,” he apologizes for me.

But I’m not interested in pretending to play high society with this girl. I can see inside her, I know that lurking just beneath the surface she has actual desires. She has that wild side she’s trying to keep stuffed down inside.

We all do.

And hers is dying to leap out and experience life for once. I felt it when I held her in the woods today. She wasn’t just worked up about the bear. I could smell the faint smell as I kept her in my grasp, beneath the tears and her sweat, the faint scent of her longing teased me, tempted me, and told me everything I need to know about this girl.

Mary seems to accept Owen’s explanation and she busies herself by the sink.

“What the hell, man?” Owen hisses at me.

“What?”

“Don’t fucking say what, you’re talking to her like you just got out of max and she’s the first woman you’ve seen. Fucking cool it, you’re gonna scare her.” His wrinkled brow smooths back flat, and he smiles up at Mary as she makes her way to the table.

“You know, I kind of do regret that I didn’t just go with it.” She rubs her hands down over her flowing skirt.

“See?” I smirk at Owen.

“I mean, not that I would’ve slept with my professor or did what you said.” She can’t bring herself to say it. Still, I see her bite down on her full bottom lip and twist her hands in her skirt at the thought of some raunchy, filthy sex she missed out on. Her eyes travel over my body like she’s under a spell. Her pupils dilate and her shallow breathing makes her tits rise and fall with every quick breath.

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