TJ points at the hostess and her wife. “You two have to go first,” he says, then to the group in a stage whisper, “Since they have the cutest story.”
“Novel-worthy?” Reese asks TJ.
“Meaning, will I steal it as a premise for the next great romance? You know, I just might,” he says, takes a bite of his salad, chews, then shoots a wide-eyed look at the moms-to-be. “’Fess up.”
Nisha smiles shyly.
Hailey grins, sets a hand on her wife’s shoulder. “We were in the library. We both wanted to check out the same book. It was a Calvin and Hobbes.”
“And instead, we checked out each other,” Nisha puts in.
The entire table awws.
“Okay, that’s meet-cute worthy, especially since Calvin and Hobbes are cool. What else have we got?” TJ asks, gesturing to Brooks and Steven. “The Brit and the American. I’d like to hear this story.”
Setting down his martini, the Brit laughs and shakes his head. “We’re just a typical boy-meets-boy-online story,” Steven says.
“Nothing wrong with that. It’s how lots of couples meet these days,” TJ says.
“I swear, half the couples at my bar met on an app. Many of whom are happily married,” I put in as I spear a forkful of salad and chew. Contributing to this conversation is better than stewing about when I’ll get a moment alone with Owen.
Steven waggles a platinum band. “We’ll be getting married in the spring. I’m so glad I used Boyfriend Material.”
Owen chokes, covers his mouth with his hand, and nearly spits out his water.
“Are you okay, sweetie?” Nisha asks, momming him.
“Fine. Just fine,” he says, sputtering, his cheeks flashing pink.
I burn. That stupid fucking app. Owen better have taken down his profile last night right after the first time I made him come. If not then, definitely after that second orgasm when he called my name at the top of his lungs.
But I’m sure he didn’t delete it. After all, he didn’t look at his phone once after we kissed. I kept him plenty busy, thank you very much.
Maybe he killed his profile in the magic dog van.
If he didn’t, I will hack his phone and destroy that profile, because there is no way anyone else will get his hands on Guy With Glasses.
And what the fuck is wrong with me?
I am not a jealous guy.
I am not a possessive alpha.
I am not this person at all.
But I can’t stand the thought of Owen seeing anyone else, touching anyone else, falling for anyone else.
“Drink some water, sweetie,” Nisha says to Owen, handing him his glass.
“I swear I’m okay,” he mutters.
“Wait. Is that how you two met? Did you and River meet on that app?” Once Tobey’s question makes landfall, the table goes quiet.
The guests are waiting for an answer.
Owen looks up at Tobey, his eyes wide, his lips parted. But no words come out.
The silence is so awkward, you couldn’t cut it with a knife. There is no utensil the right shape for this kind of awkward. My instinct is to jump in and smooth things over with a quip, but I don’t want to. I kind of want to know what Owen will say now that the dumb app is up for discussion.
But he’s silent. Except, he seems to be breathing a little harder than normal.
“Tobey, they’re not together. They’re just friends,” Nisha corrects him gently.
TJ chuckles under his breath, then takes another bite of mashed potatoes.
What’s the deal with that chuckle? I file it away to ask Owen later.
Tobey winces, holds up his hands in surrender, a stuffing-covered fork in one, a knife in the other. “Gah. My bad. So sorry. I was just getting a vibe in the van. But I was wrong about the murder podcasts, so I must not be good at reading people. Good thing I can speak dog, huh?”
“I’d like to speak dog,” Holden offers, then digs back into the salad.
Owen clears his throat. “We’ve been friends forever. River and me,” he says, slapping on a grin. But he just seems . . . off.
Well, same here.
Also, fuck friendship.
And I think I just growled.
God, I hope this meal ends soon.
Steven clears his throat, flashing a smile, ever the diplomat it seems. “But it’s a great dating app. If anyone is looking for a girlfriend or boyfriend, it’s fantastic.” He directs his gaze to me, then Owen. “And really, if either of you two blokes is looking for a boyfriend, I highly recommend it.”
“Thanks for the tip,” I say, while plotting to take down an entire dating app Ocean’s Eleven-style, mirroring how the bombing expert shut down the Vegas power grid.
“And really, I bet you’d both clean up on it,” Brooks adds.
“Are either of you? Looking for a boyfriend?” Nisha asks, turning her gaze to Owen, then to me.
I wait for Owen to go first.
21
Owen
Ten pairs of eyes bore into me.