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I’d been right about the meager state of our pantry, but there had been enough odds and ends to make a real meal. Spaghetti and jarred sauce probably wasn’t much, but there had also been a random package of frozen rolls at the back of the freezer that didn’t look freezer burned so I was pretty impressed with how it had turned out.
Owen was such an unknown variable that I wasn’t sure if he would notice the effort I’d made or just lay into me for being callous and thoughtless. He’d be justified, but I needed to tell him how wrong I’d been. I just needed to apologize. It wouldn’t turn back the clock and keep me from saying those things, but hopefully, we could just forget that I’d been mean and that he’d seen me…
Well, naked with an anal plug in my hands.
“Owen?
I heard him hang up his keys, but I didn’t hear his footsteps. Was he standing there at the door, like he thought I’d just go away if he ignored me long enough?
Finally, he appeared in the doorway, and I couldn’t read the look on his face. One thing was clear, though — his hair hadn’t been that tousled when he’d left, and he hadn’t looked nearly that disheveled. He didn’t look smug, though, or gleeful.
“What?” he asked shortly.
One-word answers weren’t usually a good sign when he was pissed off. Great. Not sure what to do, I stood there awkwardly and not realizing I had the spoon for the pasta sauce in my hand until it was dripping everywhere.
“I… Um… I… One sec.” Great. I looked even more like a loser.
Turning around to put the spoon back in the pot, I gave myself just a moment to breathe. I’d apologize, then everything would be fine.
But as I turned back around, I knew it wouldn’t be that easy.
Owen’s face was still unreadable, and if anything, it felt colder than when he’d left. “I’m sorry I… I’m sorry I was mean. I don’t… I don’t think that about you. And your
personal life is not my business. I’m also sorry that I made you uncomfortable. It really is research but… but I’ll work on… things when you’re not home.” I was rambling and making a mess of the apology I’d planned out so well. In my head, it had sounded articulate and reasonable. That had been anything but. As the jumble of words came to an end, I just waited to see what he would say.
He was quiet for a moment, quiet enough to make me even more nervous. I didn’t think he was even going to reply at first.
But a smirk cracked the mask at last, and he replied, “Oh, don’t hold off on masturbating on my account.” He dropped his voice to a stage whisper. “We all do it, Adri.”
Fuck. Yup, that worked very well as a response. “I… I…” How was I supposed to respond to that? “It was research. I wasn’t… I wasn’t…” I wasn’t sounding reasonable. Taking a deep breath, I tried again. “I’m taking a human sexuality class. It was supposed to be easy, but the big assignment is a research paper about… about, well, a sexual topic of our choice. I picked… I… Mine is about puppy play.”
“Puppy play,” Owen repeated, tilting his head to the side. The motion reminded me uncomfortably of the pup from the video — but his voice was far different, smoother and confident.
He didn’t think I’d been… Had I been? I couldn’t remember where my hands were when he’d walked in. I’d been turning on the video and I’d had the… tail in my hand. Had I been masturbating to the video?
Getting turned on was kind of the point. I had to experience the sexual play to be able to describe it and explain it in the paper. I didn’t think I needed to apologize for that if I was. “I have to research the topic.”
Maybe if I said it enough, he would understand. Maybe it would make more sense to me if I kept saying it too.
“How can you research puppy play by yourself?” Owen asked almost… innocently, though there was nothing innocent about the look in his brown eyes.
“Well… I… I had to go through different options and potential topics and while some were… interesting, they had to have other people involved. The puppy… I thought… I don’t think that I have to… I don’t think that it will require another person. I can adapt my research.”
That sounded almost reasonable and was mostly sentences, so I thought I was doing pretty well. It wasn’t really what I wanted to talk about though. I was supposed to be apologizing, not discussing… research.
“I… I’m sorry about what happened, Owen. I really didn’t mean it. And I’ll make sure to lock the door before I… Well, research.” There was just one problem. As soon as I’d said it, I knew something was off.
The doors didn’t lock.
“I… um… I think I’ll go get new door knobs at the store… Um, tomorrow or when I get paid again, maybe.” Money was too tight for random purchases, especially when I didn’t have any idea how much something would cost.
“How many times are you going to say the word ‘research’ tonight?” Owen asked, like I hadn’t spoken at all. “Because I think we’re into the tens or twenties now.”
“But… it… It is…” It was research. But now he was making me uncomfortable again. The cool kid and the geek. “I… I want to make sure you know I’m sorry about everything.”
That was a safe topic. I knew how to apologize. I’d been doing it forever. He just needed to stay on topic, and everything would be fine.
Owen shrugged, strolling over to stick his finger into the sauce and stepping into my personal space. He licked it clean, watching me.
