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“No, you didn’t hurt me.” Not physically anyway. Emotionally...I don’t know yet. God, this is awkward. Why can’t we stay in post-sex bliss forever? “So...uh, what now?”
For a moment he doesn’t say anything. But then he gets up and heads into the bathroom to dispose of the condom. Looks like he’s not sure the best way to handle things, either. Maybe it was too soon to ask...
But there’s a part of me that always needs to know my next step. It’s how I operate in my job and in my life. Ambiguity is the enemy.
“We get back to work.” He grabs the bag with my clothes from the table. I can see he’s picked up a few things, perhaps unsure what I might want to wear. The gesture is sweet, but the magic is all gone. It’s my own fault. I knew I would feel like this.
“Back to work.” I nod. “Right.”
It’s not what my heart wants to hear, but I shake off the disappointment. If I feel bad, that’s on me. Unrealistic desires and all that.
I hurry into the bathroom to change. Which seems a little useless considering he’s seen me naked a lot in the last twelve hours. My body is one thing, however. My emotions are totally another.
“Are we...okay?” he asks through the door.
“Sure.” I doubt it convinces either one of us.
“I told you there was a reason I kept away, Hannah.”
I swallow. Damn him, when he says my name like that it always reaches inside me. Makes my heart squeeze. When I’m Anderson, he’s all playful and fun. Owen the Joker. When he calls me by my rank, he’s trying to get under my skin. And when he says Hannah, usually it’s with a coating of sarcasm because I’ve told him off.
But this is different.
It’s softer. More. Everything.
I can’t handle that right now. I need a less vulnerable emotion to cling on to, something that doesn’t make me seem like the weaker party. I choose frustration.
“What is that reason, exactly?” I ask as I tug my outfit on. “If you really want me to understand then why don’t you tell me something real?”
“Messed-up childhood. What else do you need to know?”
Everything. I don’t need to know it, but I want to. For some reason—and against every bit of sensibility in my usuallyverypractical brain—I want to be closer to him. And it hurts to be held at an arm’s length.
“Life is short,” he adds. “I want my life to be as easy as possible.”
“Wow. Stick that on a motivational poster and I’ll hang it on my wall.” I roll my eyes. The sentiment disappoints me, because it doesn’t fit with the man I believe Owen to be. He does care...even if he doesn’t show it. “Don’t you think everyone would be happy with an easy life? But spoiler alert, lifeisn’teasy.”
I come out of the bathroom and spear him with a look. I’m not buying this BS.
“Is this the point where you tell me things happen for a reason?” he grunts. “I’ve heard that recycled bullshit a thousand times over.”
“So you’re going to do this case and then return to being a party boy in New York?”
I’d heard stories from Max—that Owen had a sweet bachelor pad and liked to hit the clubs on a regular basis. It seems like a complete waste to me. Owen is one of the best officers I’ve ever worked with—despite his inability to show up on time. He’s a joker, sure. But he’s got a sharp mind and a desire to do good.
“How do you know I was a party boy in New York?” He folds his arms across his chest.
“People talk.”
“Fucking Max,” he mutters. “What did he tell you?”
“Nothing much, just that you’ve been acting like you’re twenty-two instead of thirty-two. Clubbing, drinking...” Probably sleeping around, although Max never actually said it and Icertainlydon’t want to think about it. Especially not now. “Avoiding commitment of any kind.”
“I’m committed to my job.”
“The new one?” I shake my head. “You wanted to climb the ranks. You wanted to protect the people in this city, make Melbourne a safer place.”
He stares at me, eyes smouldering and jaw pulled taut. But then he shakes his head like he’s telling himself not to bite. “I’m going to walk back to the apartment. Clear my head.”
