Chapter 20
TWENTY
A loud ringing disturbed the peace of my sleep, and so I groaned as I flipped over from my stomach to my side. I carefully opened my eyes, finding my phone on its magnetic charging stand with the screen shining brightly—as if taunting me.
I reached across the bed and pulled the phone from the magnet. As I brought my phone closer to me, the noise of the alarm grew louder. I cringed at the volume, then rushed to swipe the alarm off of the screen.
I then let my arm, still holding my phone, fall to my bed as I turned to lie on my back. My eyes wandered to the left where my curtains remained open, revealing the sky was mostly grey with clouds, save for tiny little spaces of blue where the sky was threatening to shine through.
I remembered it was a Saturday. Why the fuck was the alarm going off? I never set alarms for the weekends I didn’t work.
I sat up, then I remembered why I had set the alarm as I felt my phone vibrate in my hand. I looked down at it, reading the message from Owen .
Owen: I’m awake now, so let me know whenever you’re ready and then we can go for breakfast and to the lake.
I felt instant regret filling me. Why had I agreed to go on an early morning date? I had slept late, and when I tried to sleep I couldn’t drift off so I was running on basically fumes. But at least I was only to spend the morning with him, then I could nap after he dropped me back home, I mentally made the plan.
I unwillingly pulled my duvet off my body, then I climbed out of bed. I closed my eyes for a brief second, finding comfort for my dry and tired eyes. But then I forced my eyes back open and made my way to the upstairs bathroom.
I went about using the toilet and washing my hands, then I made my way downstairs. I sleepily made my way to the kitchen, walking like a zombie. I got to the cupboard where underneath I stored three of my top cereal. I picked up the tub containing the corn flakes, then I opened the cupboard underneath to get myself a bowl.
I placed the bowl on the counter, then pulled the top of the cereal storage tub open before I poured some in the bowl. I closed the tub and pushed it back in its home, then I walked to the fridge to pull out some milk. I added that into the bowl, then I completed my quick breakfast with a spoon.
I brought the bowl to the table and sat down, pushing the clutter away from my seat. I then picked up my phone from my pyjama trousers pocket, finally responding to Owen.
Me: I just got up. Waiting to feel a little more human first before I shower, then I’ll get changed and we can go. Call it, I’ll be ready in an hour and a half? So pick me up at 7:30?
His response was almost instantaneous, as if he had been waiting for my reply.
Owen: 7:30, got it! See you soon.
I closed off the messaging app, then I opened my music app and began to shuffle my music in hopes of it waking me up. I cringed at the loud volume and rushed to lower it before I picked up my spoon and shovelled some cereal into my mouth.
I felt my stomach drop and guilt filled my chest like fluttering butterflies begging to drown my lungs. I had the sudden thought of Kota, and wondered what his idea of a date would be.
Technically, if you squinted hard enough, I had already gone on a date with him. Was it a good one? Well, it was… a coffee and an almost-make out in his car, but it was better than nothing.
I knew we were never going to do it again, the ‘date like’ atmosphere. He was against dating me for some reason, not that I blamed him. He was young and successful, and always stressed. Dating wasn’t on the cards sprawled across his table, and that was okay.
Or so I liked to lie to myself.
Once my wet hair was clean, I tied it back in a very loose bun which probably looked a mess. But I didn’t care, and Owen never seemed to care if I looked perfect or not either. He just enjoyed my company.
Which was a mystery to me. Men had never cared about my presence so much before. Sure, I had been on dates that seemingly went great and such, but there was something about Owen that felt different. He didn’t try to make a move on me, he left everything in my court. He was a gentleman about it all.
And the depraved parts of my mind that I pushed bag tangled into the edges of my conscious, taunting me for being with him instead of allowing Kota to destroy my entire being just to build me back up again.
I wore some jogging trousers and a t-shirt, accompanied by the matching hoodie. I was all set, and right on time, Owen turned up on my drive and popped me a text message to let me know he was there. He had grown accustomed to me hating when people honked as it sounded obnoxious and irritating—I claimed every time I heard a car horn when unneeded.
I walked to my front door, opened it and stepped outside. I then locked the door behind me before I made my way to Owen’s car, a familiar sight as of recent weeks. I let out a smile as I opened the passenger door and stepped inside.
Owen smiled at me, watching my every move as I closed the door behind me and buckled my seatbelt. “Hey beautiful, how was your week? Still suffering that hangover from last weekend?”
I laughed and nodded my head, leaning back into the seat as I relaxed with my bag on my lap. “Sure feels like it, I’ve been so tired all week no matter how much I sleep. But I barely slept last night.”
“Any reason why?” Owen asked as he turned the car around on the drive, then began the drive to this café he had said he loved to visit as a kid, near a lake he used to go walk around with his parents and sister in their childhood.
Dakota Vernon , the black fingers tried to wrap around the edges of my brain, but I managed to gain enough strength to push them back. I had seen his face in my dreams. I had stared into his green eyes and felt the warmth of his fingertips brush against my skin. I had been loved by him. And that was when I realised it was all a dream, a fantasy that would never materialise.
“No reason really, just one of those nights where you can’t sleep no matter what you do,” I replied, moving my hand to cover my mouth as I let out a yawn. “Oh, excuse me.”
Owen let out a small laugh as he shook his head and took a hand from the steering wheel to give a very brief wave of dismissal. “I’ll let it pass for today because you’re so cute when you’re sleepy.”
I felt my cheeks heat, and I had no doubt my skin was turning pink. I smiled slightly and shook my head as I looked down at my lap. Words failed me, but that was okay because Owen played his music through the car as usual.
Even though the Dakota in my dreams wasn’t real, it still felt like I was cheating every time I hung out with Owen. I wasn’t, I knew that. But I still felt strange about it. I hated the feeling. But Owen never seemed to pick up on my mood changes—something I was thankful for.
Owen’s music taste was very different from Kota’s. Kota seemed to like the more indie rock music, music I dared to say I had been listening to since that night I was in his car. It made me feel closer to him, oddly. As if I was inserting myself more into his life, which he probably would hate if he knew that was my mindset. I was like a gnat, buzzing around his face for attention only to be swatted away for being an annoyance.
I had barely crossed paths with him since, and we had shared a handful of messages which irritated me more than anything else. He was so carefree about my existence, yet I was dying to see him again. It was hard, but I knew my place. My place was to be used when he wanted me. Not when I wanted to be involved in his life, which was all the time I was ashamed to admit.
I didn’t mean to compare them—Owen and Dakota. But Kota consumed me, without even being that involved in my life. I knew it, and he knew it. I was addicted and hung up on his every word. I had to stop myself last night from asking him to come over in my sleepy, yet unable to sleep phase.
The fact that when I closed my eyes I saw his inviting green eyes didn’t help matters. He was destroying me even in the times he didn’t intend to. But then again, it was my fault for being to hung up on a person. When it came to him, I had an addictive personality. It was out of order for me, and it felt like a punishment for a crime I was never led privy to.
He hadn’t been answering my messages in the few days leading up to my date with Owen, so he wouldn’t likely had come over the night before. Regardless, I reminded myself to keep my composure and discipline and kept my phone screen locked as I stared at the ceiling, begging for sleep to take me over fully once and for all.
“Have you decided what you’re going to order?” Owen asked, knowing me well enough to know I had already looked up the menu.
“I’m going to get a cinnamon hot chocolate and I think I’m going to get a toasted croissant with cheese and ham,” I replied, turning in my seat so I was ever so slightly facing him better.
“Oh, good choices,” He replied, his lips formed up into a beaming smile. He let go of the steering wheel with his left hand, then reached across the car to rest it on my knee as he drove. “I may just get the same you know.”
Owen was never one for random physical touch, so that was a big move for him. When he let his hand barely ghost on top of my thigh for a few seconds, as if waiting for me to push his hand away, I had to stop the smile from creeping onto my lips. He finally seemed to realise I wasn’t about to push him away, and then he finally decided to rest the full weight of his hand on top of me.
“Yeah?” I asked, my eyes drifting to his hand for a second before they went back to his face.
“Yeah,” He replied with a firm and final nod of his head.
His hands were becoming familiar, yet they weren’t the ones I craved. His hands weren’t too much bigger than mine, but were strong and the grip comforting. His skin was warm, much warmer than mine. I was always somehow cold.
But a part of me craved another’s touch. They craved the only-just-there warmth, and the much larger yet gentle hands of Dakota Vernon.
I forced the thoughts to the back of my mind. It was cruel to be thinking of someone else while with Owen. So I used everything within me to keep the thoughts at the back of my mind as I paid my full attention to Owen.
We pulled up to the gravel car park beside the lake which held a few cars. The sky was bright blue, a handful of white clouds slowly filtering across the sky. I smiled as I stepped out of the car, turning my head back to appreciate the warm sun rays covering my skin between the cracks of the leaves on the trees.
“You ready to grab our breakfast? We can have a small walk around the lake or sit and watch the ducks,” Owen suggested. I looked back at him over the top of the car and nodded before I made my way around the car. When I reached him, without a second thought he held his hand out to me.
I wrapped my hand around his own, and basked in the feeling of his thumb rubbing against the back of my hand. It was soothing and comforting, and somehow I felt like it eased any troubles I had woken up with.
The smile never once wavered from my lips as we made our way to the hut nearby. I turned to him, opening my lips as I prepared to order for us. But he was one step ahead of me, and he ordered two of everything I had said I wanted.
While I hated ordering food, I felt slight agitation bubble beneath the surface. I wanted to order for once. I knew he was trying to be a gentleman, but I could still order for myself sometimes.
It was a small thing to get annoyed by, so I looked sideways to admire the small waterfall as we waited for the treats. It didn’t take the person inside the small hut long before they placed our things before us.
I grabbed my drink with my free hand, then I finally dropped Owen’s hand to grab my piping hot croissant which the person inside the hut wrapped up in a piece of paper so I could hold it and eat it without burning myself.
I took a few steps ahead of Owen, making my way to the little cemented platform which went over a section of the lake, but not much. On it sat a few picnic tables in the centre, benches around the edge, then a fence to ensure no one fell in.
I walked to the bench at the end of the furthest part of the curve and sat down, admiring the water. It looked a little muggy, but any water sources I found solace in. The beach was a great place for me to go when my brain became muddled with too many thoughts.
Not long after I had sat, a breeze brushed past my side and then I felt sudden warmth. I smiled, turning my head to Owen. “You’re right, this place is beautiful, especially at this hour.”
“I knew you’d like it,” He replied, nudging me softly with his elbow. I rolled my eyes, but kept my smile as I raised the toasty croissant to my lips before I took a bite. “Do you have much planned for the rest of the day?”
I knew Owen had plans with his family, that was why we had planned our weekly date for the morning—so he would have the rest of the day to drive his parents and sister around wherever they requested.
I couldn’t help but think about Dakota when he asked my plans. I knew it would be a bad idea to ask him to come over, especially after spending the morning with Owen. It felt sleazy to do so. So I just shrugged as I pushed the option away. “Not really, I’ll probably just watch some shows and chill I think.”
“Shame I can’t come over and chill with you,” He stated. Should it had been any other man beside me, I would have known they were insinuating something along the lines of sex. But Owen.. for some reason he didn’t seem to care about us having no sex. I had once joked I was saving myself for marriage, and he took it quite literal.
I didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth .
“We can always plan a movie date some other time. You could sleep in the guest bedroom if you wanted,” I replied.
Owen shot me a sideways glance and pulled an expression that was on par with disgust. “Why would I sleep in the guest room when I can just sleep in yours? How else will we cuddle?”
I let out a small laugh, to which he reciprocated. I knew he was partially serious. If he could keep a hand on me at all times, he would. But he would never make a move that make me uncomfortable. He was gentle and caring, and I loved that about him.
But he wasn’t the one you wanted, my brained dared to taunt me. I wished I could shut her the fuck out sometimes.
“How is your sister?” I asked in an attempt to distract my brain from her taunting.
Owen beamed at the mention of his favourite person. “She’s good. She’s going to college next year, I think she’s going to do her A Levels in math and science, from the last I heard.”
I hummed as I nodded slowly. “I could never have done that at her age. While my grades were decent, I hated being an academic. Being a creative is the way to go for me.”
The air fell silent save for the distant sounds of water flowing, and birds chirping above us. I frowned, had whatever I said been a mistake? Owen never stayed silent when we talked, he was all for asking questions and responding to my statements.
My mind began to wander, trying to think of something new to talk about. Just as I sucked in a breath and parted my lips, Owen finally spoke up.
“How would you feel about meeting my family some time?” He asked, his eyes locked in on the water before us as his fingers lightly trailed along the ribbed cardboard of his coffee cup.
I gasped silently and swallowed the imaginary lump that had formed in my throat. I turned to face the water fully, regret filling me. I wanted to say no, because he wasn’t the man I wanted.
But my lips betrayed me.
The date with Owen, despite the sudden question being thrown my way when I least expected it, went perfectly fine. Just as all our dates did. I had never had a bad date with Owen, even when we just sat and talked. He felt like a friend, it felt as if I was talking to someone along the lines of Stefan—but without the endless berating of my singleness.
The date, while having not done much, was better than it was with Desmond or whatever his name had been all those months ago. A part of that, though, was because Owen made me feel comfortable and heard. He asked me about me, and he joined in with conversations about me, not just turning the topic around to discuss more about himself.
I lay on my back with my eyes staring up at the ceiling, my hands resting atop my stomach. I was debating having a nap, but I felt my phone vibrate from beside me. I knew it was Dakota.
I didn’t mean to be such a heartless bitch, but while we were on the way back from the date and I was having a million mental breakdowns at the fact I hadn’t responded to Owen’s question about meeting his family, I had opened the messaging app to text Kota a quick message.
Me: Are you busy this weekend?
I moved my hand to my side and wrapped my fingers around my phone. I closed my eyes, wanting to see the message but feeling guilty to both men.
I felt guilty to Owen, knowing that I could never fully open up to him so long as Dakota Vernon existed in this miserable world.
And I felt guilty to Dakota, because somewhere deep down, despite the fact I meant nothing to the man, I still felt like I was cheating on him. He had assured me he gave no fucks who I went out with, as long as I was protected should I have sex with them to ensure his own protection whenever we finally decide to seal the deal and hook up.
I felt like I was playing any man that wasn’t Kota, and I felt like I was addicted to Kota despite the fact he would never have feelings for me. It was something I was coming to terms with, a harsh reality I didn’t want to face.
I locked my phone screen and placed my phone on my chest, half expecting him not to answer. But after a few seconds of staring at the ceiling once again, I felt the device vibrate. I gasped and picked up my phone, unlocking it to read the message immediately.
Dakota: I have a few work events this weekend in Bristol so I’m there right now. How about you?
I chewed on my lower lip, debating if I should tell him how I was really feeling. A part of me also wanted to tell him what I had been doing. Who I had been with. I wanted to see if I could make him jealous—make him cave in and admit he wanted me.
I knew it was petty, but I decided to at least make a joke out of it. So I caved in and sent him a message to reveal just what I had been doing that morning.
Me: I went on a date with Owen
I felt anxious at sending the message. Would he stop replying? He did that sometimes. I would send a message, and I wouldn’t even know if he had read it as his read receipts were turned off.
In a slight panic, I felt the need to rush out another message as if trying to defend myself.
Me: Tell me why it feels like I’m cheating on you
His response was almost instantaneous.
Kota: Did you do anything with him?
Me: No, we just held hands and hugged, casual stuff
Kota: Why didn’t you kiss him?
I let out a small sigh as I sat up, as if I needed the extra posture to give myself some strength as I laid my heart out to him.
Me: Because he isn’t you
Kota: See, even when you’re trying to get attention off other men, you’re still a desperate whore for my attention. You crave it, you crave me.
I sighed. That was not what I was intending or what I meant. But if that was the only way he would accept my affections for him, then I would just have to accept it.