<b>Chapter </b><b>418 </b>
<b>After </b>her shower, Aria felt much more sober. She was ready to crash for the night when she suddenly remembered Owen was still in the living room. She opened the door and said, “You can head home now…<b>” </b>
But Owen was sitting there, face flushed, half–slumped against the arm of the sofa.
<b>There </b>was an open bottle of liquor and <b>a </b>ss on the coffee table.
He looked up at her<b>, </b><b>eyes </b>a little hazy. “You’re done?”
Aria walked over, eyeing him suspiciously. “What’s going on here<b>?</b><b>” </b>
“Needed a little courage,” Owen said, pushing himself up and nearly losing his bnce. Aria rushed to steady him<b>, </b>ncing <b>at </b>the bottle–a fifth gone already. She stared at him in disbelief, “Wait… are you seriously a lightweight?”
Not only did he get drunk after <b>a </b>single ss, but his face was bright red.
Owen straightened, head lowered, and just stared at her. Then, with a small<b>, </b>aggrieved voice, he said, “Aria.<b>” </b>
She looked up. “Yeah?”
He said, “You kissed me in the car.”
There was <b>a </b>wounded note in his voice, like he’d just been wronged.
Aria blinked, not quite believing this was drunk Owen.
She tried to y dumb. “I don’t remember.”
Owen pressed his lips together, looking heartbroken. “So you’re not going to admit it?”
She watched in shock <b>as </b>his eyes filled with tears.
Just as <b>a </b>tear was about <b>to </b>fall, Aria panicked and blurted out, “Okay, okay! I admit it. I kissed you. I’m sorry, alright?”
Apparently, that was the magic phrase.
Owen wiped away the tear and said, “No need to apologize. Just take responsibility.”
Aria’s eyes widened. “Excuse me<b>?</b><b>” </b>
He took a step closer. “What, you’re nning to just walk away after that?”
She backed up until her legs hit the coffee table and she instinctively started to sit down, but he grabbed her arm and pulled <b>her </b>upright.
She ended up tumbling into his arms, and with Owen off bnce, the two of them crashed onto the couch together.
Aria didn’t get hurt<b>–</b>Owen had cushioned her fall–but the position theynded in was<b>… </b>questionable.
Her head was tucked into the crook of <b>his </b>neck, one leg draped across his.
<b>The </b>room <b>was </b>warm<b>, </b>and both of them were only wearing thin clothes.
<b>She </b>could <b>feel </b><b>his </b><b>heat </b>through the fabric, his skin <b>almost </b>burning.
<b>She </b>lifted her head and saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down.
<b>1/4 </b>
SUNT, EL TE
Neither of them moved.
Owen just held her, a fullness blooming in his chest–so this was what it felt like to really hug someone.
He almost never got this worked up, his hands opened and closed, over and over, as if he couldn’t contain all the feelings boiling inside.
Ana tried to wriggle away.
Thinking she was trying to escape, Owen pulled her right back.
This was the first time she’d ever given him the slightest signal.
He knew there might never be a second chance. If he let this go, they might always just be friends, never anything more.
She demanded, “Was this all on purpose?”
Owen ignored the question and kept going, “Are you going to take responsibility?”
He was dead serious–clearly that kiss meant more to him than she’d thought.
She was silent, so he added softly, “That was my first kiss.”
Aria choked. “You’re twenty–seven and you’ve never kissed anyone?”
Owen didn’t seem to care about the age thing, but he remembered something Amanda once said at Amour Bistro.
Besides, he was four years older than Aria.
He said, “My birthday’s not for a while. I’m still twenty–six. I’ve never liked anyone else, never kissed anyone else, and no one’s ever kissed me… except
you.”
Guilt washed over Aria. “I’ve never… with anyone either…” She didn’t finish the sentence, silently cursing the trouble alcohol brings.
After thinking it over, she offered <b>a </bpromise. “How about… you kiss me back, and then we’re even?”
Owen’s eyes filled with hurt. “Is that how little you think of me? You’d rather force yourself than actually be with me?”
She protested, “That’s not what I meant.”
He pressed, “Then why won’t you take responsibility?”
Aria fell silent for a long moment before saying, “Can we at least get up before we talk about this?<b>” </b>
“Alright.” Owen finally let her go.
Aria climbed off him and sat <b>at </b>his side on the couch.
She was about to say something when he shed her apletely disarming smile, nothing like his usual gentle expression.
He was so close, the brightness of it caught her off guard, sent her heart skipping.
She took a deep breath and met his gaze, “Owen, fine, I admit it–I do like you, at least a little.<b>” </b>
Owen’s eyes shone; even a little was enough.
She continued, “But right now, I’m not looking for a rtionship, and I definitely don’t want to get married or have kids.
“Kissing you was my fault, but I can’t give you anything more than that. If there’s anything else you want–anything reasonable–I’ll do it, but I can’t <b>be </b>responsible in that way.”
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Charles $18
Den kept smiling. The light in his eyes wovending “Co, when did his fine out 1ked you?”
Aria was honest. “That time you showed up at the film set looking for me”
He suddenly leaned in eyes Warm and intent.
Arie instinctively leaned back. “What are you doing?”
He asked, “You said anything but a rtionship or marriage, right? Within reason?*
Pinned by his gaze, Arta nodded. “Yes, anything reasonable.”
Owen was awyer, full of integrity.
She knew he’d never ask for anything out of line, so this felt like a safe arrangement.
No point in starting something that would go nowhere.
Owen smiled, “Then let’s sign a contract. That way, you don’t have to be responsible.”
“A contract? What kind?” she asked.
He stood. “Nothing illegal, nothing against public morals. I’ll draw it up right now–you’ll see.”
Aria asked, “Can’t we just do this tomorrow?”
Owen shook his head, “No way. I’m afraid you’ll change your mind.”
She agreed, “Fine, go ahead. I’ll wait.”
“Wait for me,” he said, practically skipping out of the room.
After he left, Aria sat there for a while, dazed.
Owen had looked awfully steady for someone supposedly drunk.
She nced at the bottle of liquor, then burst <b>out </bughing–so the tears were an act, huh?
She had messed up, so if Owen wanted to make <b>a </b>fuss, he had every right.
Even so, curled up on the couch, she couldn’t help feeling strangely empty and a little restless.
He’d just said she didn’t need to take responsibility anymore, so why did she feel so unsettled?
Aria rubbed her hair and picked up her phone to mindlessly scroll.
Ten minutester, there was a knock at the door, and Owen came back in.
Aria nced up and saw the paper, covered in writing, a pen, and an ink pad in his hands. He was actually serious about this.
Owen’s face was still a little flushed as he set the contract on the table in front of her and folded down the part with all the terms, leaving only the
signature <b>line </b>visible.
Sign here, he said.
She gave him a look. “You want me to sign without even reading it?”
Owen replied, “Sign first, then you can read.”
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