But this was confusing, this warmth in his chest. And that warmth got even more confusing when Owen stuffed his hand down one of Chad’s jeans pockets. Chad looked down, at the scrap of green that peeked out.
He glanced at Owen, whose expression was the softest Chad had ever seen. He looked sated and relaxed and content. Unguarded. Chad wasn’t sure he deserved unguarded Owen. “You’re giving me your bow tie?”
Owen’s lips tilted. “You think I’ll ever be able to wear that thing knowing what we did?”
Chad stuffed it farther down into his pocket. “Why, because it’s soiled now? Tainted? You can just wash it.”
Owen tongued the corner of his mouth. “No, because I’ll be hard all day thinking about doing it again. And that’s pretty unprofessional.” He leaned in, hesitated, then pressed a kiss to Chad’s lips. When he spoke again, his voice was uncertain. “You, uh, want to grab some food?”
Chad was fucking starving, but no way was he going to sit through dinner and awkward conversation knowing what they’d done and with the bow tie that was in his pocket. He needed time away to gather himself and glue back together all the little bits and pieces of himself that Owen seemed to shatter every time he saw him. He shook his head and lied, “Nah, I got plans.”
Owen blinked, a flash of disappointment over his face, then he stepped back, that guard flying back up in an instant, so quick, Chad swore he heard a clang. Owen’s body tensed, and Chad missed the content Owen as soon as he was gone. Owen nodded stiffly, lifting his hand to his throat, then dropping it awkwardly when he realized nothing was there. “Right, uh, right. That’s not us, is it?”
Chad opened his mouth, because shit, he’d fucked up again, but Owen was shaking his head. “I’ll email Austin and I guess I’ll…see you when we get our next assignment.” He used air quotes when he said “assignment,” then seemed to stare at his hands like they embarrassed him. He shoved them in his pockets. “So, I’ll see you. When I see you.”
When he walked away, Chad didn’t call him back. Because frankly, for the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to say.
Chapter Eight
Owen managed to avoid Chad for two weeks. Two weeks during which he accepted Austin’s emails and delegated jobs to Chad by emailing him in as few words as possible.
Which he was good at. He was a copy editor, after all.
But that didn’t stop him from thinking about Chad, oh, no. Hell, no. Because Chad was all he thought about—that smirk and those lips and those hands and that perfect, perfect ass that was out of Owen’s dreams. Although he couldn’t get over the fact that he’d had his hands down the pants of a guy whose email address was chadtothebone. Jesus Christ. That should have been his first clue they weren’t compatible for anything out of the bedroom.
Still, even though he hated to admit it, he missed Chad. The guy was smart, always had a comeback or sarcastic comment. At first, it annoyed the hell out of Owen, but now he found himself wishing for the conversations that always kept him on his toes.
He missed Chad’s voice calling him O and making fun of his slow driving and his fashion choices.
He’d broken down after three days and begun wearing a bow tie again. And he had every day since.
This was crazy—lunacy, even. Tyler would die if he knew straitlaced Owen was fucking in a public park with a bow tie wrapped around his dick like the kinkiest gay present that ever was.
Tyler had been safe and calm and everything Owen thought he wanted. On paper, Chad was everything Owen disliked, but in the flesh, Chad was…Chad. Funny and hot and a lot of things Owen missed now that he wasn’t around.
Owen closed his eyes and clutched his red pen so tightly in his fist, he had to ease up the pressure before he snapped it. Here he was at work again, his mind wandering. Marley had mentioned his sour mood, and it’d been hard not to snap at her and tell her it was all her brother’s fault. He had no idea what she’d do if she found out.
But he and Chad were done. Completely. So all he had to do was tough this part out, the part where the image of Chad was fresh in his mind. As soon as that image faded, he’d be all right. He’d be himself again.
Plain, mystery-reading, workaholic Owen.
That was what he wanted, right?
His phone rang and he picked it up. “Copy desk, this is Owen.”
“Can you come to my office, please?” Marley asked.
“Usually you email me with this type of request.”
“I’d also like a Diet Coke. Can you grab one from the vending machine for me?”
Owen smiled. “Sure, there’ll be a fifty-cent travel tax.”