"What about it?" I asked, my heart aching.
"You thought I was flirting with that redhead. I was really just passing the time until you were free," he said.
"Really?"
"Whoa, hang in there," Owen reached out to steady me. "You know, Quinn, it’s possible that you have PTSD. Maybe you should go lay down for a while."
"No, please, I need to get off campus," I said.
"UCLA got me a hotel room in town," Owen said.
I headed towards the parking lot. He caught up with me after a few steps and wrapped his arm tightly around me. I was glad, as my legs still felt wobbly. Now that the terrifying episode had passed, the adrenaline was kicking in, and I felt electrified.
When we got inside Owen's hotel room, he went straight to the minibar and cracked open a small bottle of scotch. "Here. This will help calm your nerves. You look a little jumpy. Adrenaline?"
"I don't know," I said. "What, do you think I'm a nursing student or something?"
Owen laughed and flopped down in the armchair. He put his feet up on the bed, leaving me the rest of the king-sized mattress to spread out on. I used all the extra pillows to create a nest and settled in with the little bottle of scotch.
"No," he said. "Maybe not a nursing student today. How about a chef?"
"I burned macaroni and cheese in high school. Remember? You had to knock down the smoke detector with a baseball bat."
"How about astrophysics? You could spend your life studying black holes."
"That sounds uplifting. Oh, wait, my math skills are not strong enough," I said.
"Yeah, you're terrible at making change."
I whacked his feet off the corner of the bed.
"How about astrology, then? I bet you could write a good horoscope," he said.
"Sounds good. Let's start with yours. With the moon in your seventh sign, beware of old friends. Your wit and charm will get you nothing but slapped." I took a hearty swig of the scotch and punctuated his horoscope with a round of hacking coughs.
Owen grabbed two beers from the minibar and cracked them open. "Here, might be better with a chaser," he said.
He sat down on the bed next to me. I grabbed for the beer, but he did not let go. I took another swig of the scotch and his lips followed. The burning alcohol was nothing compared to the fire Owen's kiss started in my belly.
I took the beers from his hand and balanced them on the bedside table. When I turned back, his agate-blue eyes were following me with the same intensity from the party. I crawled back along the bed and into his lap. He sighed, long and hard, his hands coming to rest on my hips. Then slowly, each millimeter taking a century, we drew closer and closer until our lips brushed again. Soft, featherweight kisses that erased the world around us. Over and over again until there was nothing but the two of us.
"I've wanted you for so long," I said.
"You have no idea." Owen tangled his hands in my hair.
The soft kisses disappeared and passion devoured us.
"Wait," I said. I pushed against his chest and stood up. "There's something I have to do. I have no idea what else is going to happen with my life but there are two things I know."
"What's the first thing?"
"I have to call my parents and tell them I am quitting the nursing program," I said.
"And what's the second thing that you know?"
"That I don't want you to move an inch."
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