Forgot To Tell You Something: An Angsty, Later in Life Romance

I trudge down the stairs. A more apt description is that I stomp down the stairs in the midst of a temper tantrum. Either way, I don’t draw any attention in a place like Wicked Chucks. As far as the patrons are concerned, I’m feeling the vibe.

I push my way to the bar, daring to cast a look up at the balcony. Stefani’s head is bent close to Owen, huge grins decorating both of their faces.

“Changing it up or keeping it the same?” Dan inquires, jolting me from my voyeuristic nightmare.

“Same. Three, please.”

“Who’s your new friend? You two seemed to hit it off.”

I shrug, not sure what, if anything, Owen is to me. “I guess.”

“Uh-oh. What happened?”

“Stefani happened,” I mumble under my breath.

“I wouldn’t worry about Stefani. She’s been flirting with everyone down here. That’s her thing, right?” Dan’s eyes widen. “Hold on a minute. Are you interested in this guy?”

Dan knows that I don’t date. He also knows the details of my pitiful sexual history, so the concept of me liking a guy shocks the hell out of him. I fiddle with my hair before shaking my head. What does it matter anyway? Stefani has her sights—and hooks—set on Owen. I don’t stand a chance.

“Have I ever told you what a shit liar you are, Tallulah?”

I flip him off as he hands me the bottles. Screw him for being right. I turn with a huff, mentally preparing myself to be the third wheel in my own love life.

Thank God for beer and rage music. I’d go bat shit crazy, otherwise.

I jump when a hand reaches out, grabbing two of the beers. “Hey, Darlin, I was coming down to help you.”

Color me surprised.

Then I notice Stefani only a few inches from Owen’s side.

Eraser, please.

“I would have brought them to you.” I ignore Stefani, cocking her head in Owen’s direction, her eyes widening at me. Instead, I focus on Owen’s ridiculously sexy smile. A smile aimed at me.

Owen leans down, that glorious scruff brushing against my skin. “It’s getting a bit wild down here. You’re too tiny to walk around without a bodyguard.”

I appreciate his concern. Truly, I do. But, as per usual, it fires up my short woman indignation. “Are you my bodyguard now?”

“I can be a lot of things, Tally. Just name it.”

Meanwhile, Stefani is becoming more brazen with her non-verbal cues. Leaning against Owen for support, she pretends to adjust the strap on her heel while clearing her throat and sending me a side-eye glance.

It’s her signal—a signal for me to hit the highway, giving her some time alone with the man of the evening. Usually, that slight hint is enough. I’m a good wing woman, and most men don’t arouse my curiosity.

Owen is not most men. I’m so far beyond curious it’s ridiculous. In my mind, I’ve already stripped him down and licked every inch of him. Repeatedly.

I’m not willing to give him up without a fight. I walk the few steps to the bar, feeling Stefani as she sidles up next to me.

“Do you have dibs?”

“I’m assuming you mean Owen?”

“Obviously.”

“I thought you liked Dan,” I mutter.

“I do, but so does every other woman in here.”

“So, you’re interested in Owen as a fallback?”

“Jeez, Lu, you make me sound like an evil bitch!” she scoffs, downing another swig of her beer. “I’d like to get to know Owen better, but you saw him first. You can call dibs if you want.”

If only it were that simple.

“That isn’t how it works, Stefani.” I rub my brow, offering a mirthless laugh.

“You know I would never impede on your territory.”

I can lay claim to Owen right now, and my friend will be good to her word. She will back off. But that’s not fair to any of us. “You make him sound like a country to be conquered.”

“I wouldn’t mind conquering him,” she whispers, giving me a nudge.

Stomach contents, please stay where you are.

I need to end this conversation. Fast. “We’re going to a concert tomorrow night.”

“Why didn’t you say that you and Owen have a date?”

Because I have no idea if it is a date or not. Better to err on the side of caution.

I shrug, swigging back some beer. “It’s not a date.”

“Are you cool with me pursuing Owen?”

Another shrug. I can’t believe how disappointed I am about the whole scenario. “Is he interested in you?”

One thing about being gorgeous is that you don’t hear the word no very often. Stefani giggles, downing the rest of her drink. “If he isn’t, he will be by the time I’m through with him.”

I hate that she’s right.

She draws me into a drunken embrace. “I love you, Lu.”

I grumble out a reply because I’m not feeling the love. But in true masochistic fashion, I turn to watch Stefani home in on the first man I’ve found interesting in years. The woman has a PhD in flirtation, complete with hair flips, bicep caresses, and lash batting.

But even masochists have their limits.

I focus my gaze on the far wall. Maybe if I ignore them both, they’ll disappear, and I can retreat to the safety of my balcony. Alone.

“Hey Dan, can I get another shot?” Stefani requests with a giggle, throwing an arm around my shoulders. “Have I told you I like the pink?”

Oh, lovely, she’s flat out hammered. “You mentioned it.”

“It’s so hard to talk with all this noise. So, I drink.” Another shot poured and down Stefani’s gullet before I can blink.

Lord, have mercy.

“You might want to slow down, Stef. You didn’t eat dinner, remember?”

She waves off my warning, motioning for a refill. “I’ll be fine. Owen says you two have plans tomorrow night.”

I roll my eyes. So much for Stefani’s short-term memory. “I told you. He was able to get me a ticket to—”

“Hedgecore.” Owen finishes the statement, his broad body standing in front of us like a linebacker. The man is gigantic—easily 6’2′ or more.

He’s way too tall for me, and I’ll keep telling myself that fib until I believe it.

Stefani’s eyes widen in fake surprise. “I love Hedgecore.”

“You do?” Owen and I ask in unison.

What a crock. The woman doesn’t love Hedgecore. She’s never heard of them.

“I would give anything to go to that concert tomorrow.” Stefani bats her lashes at Owen.

Talk about laying it on thick. But this, I have to see.

Owen crosses his arms over his barrel chest. “What’s your favorite song?”

“Oh…it’s so hard to choose one.” Stefani begins a long, bumbling explanation, while I try to decide if I should let her hang herself with her own lie.

Judging from the smirk on Owen’s face, he knows Stefani is lying, too. But he’ll play along. Maybe we are kindred spirits. “You must have a favorite album.”

“Um…well…”

I could be a bitch. I should be a bitch. But karma is a worse bitch.

I groan before entering the conversation. “Stefani and I have a disagreement. She claims Green Sneakers is the catchiest album while I think their best work is on Rapid Cycle.”

A smile flashes across Owen’s face. I know my shit, and now he knows it, too. “Rapid Cycle? Brave choice. I’m with Stefani on the Green Sneakers album.”

“Of course you are,” I mutter, unable to hold back the eye roll. Queen Snarky, at your service.

Stefani jumps at her chance. “See? Yet another reason to take me tomorrow night. I love punk music.”

She was doing so well, right until that lie dripped from her lips. Anyone who knows Hedgecore knows that they are not a punk band. They’re rockabilly.

Owen, for his part, remains a gentleman. “I only have two tickets, and I already invited Tally. But you might be able to scalp one tomorrow night.”

I chew the inside of my lip, watching my friend’s face fall. At this moment, being her wing woman is the worst job in the world. “You can take Stefani. No need to feel obligated.”

Owen’s gray gaze probes me. “I’m taking you.”

“I’m just saying,” I flounder, but Owen raises his hand, cutting me off.

“Suddenly, you don’t want to go? Did you develop alternate plans in the last thirty seconds? I recall how excited you were when I told you about the extra ticket.” He leans closer, his next words meant only for me. “I also remember how it felt to have your body pressed against mine.” He straightens, those stormy eyes daring me to lie to him. “Have you changed your mind?”

Am I insane? What am I doing? I want to go to this concert. I want to see Owen again. Why am I throwing up roadblocks and giving Stefani an opening? “I want to go.”

Owen smiles, letting his fingers slide through the ends of my hair. “Then it’s settled. Sorry, Stefani.”

My friend pooches out her lower lip, but we aren’t caving to her wishes.

The truth is, I’m not entirely sure if Owen wants me to go because he’s interested in me, or because he feels obligated that he asked me first. Possibly, it’s because, unlike Stefani, I actually know—and love—their music. But regardless of his reasoning, I know mine.

I want to see Hedgecore. Seeing them with Owen is a beautiful bonus. Stefani will just have to sit this one out.

“There will be other shows, Stef.” I offer her a smile, and she gives me a halfhearted hug.

“I’m glad you get to see them, Lu.” Even if she’s disappointed, I know she means those words.

“Thank you. I’ll be right back.”

I don’t make it two steps when Owen wraps his hand around my upper arm. “Where are you going?”

“Bathroom.” I offer up a cheeky grin. “Do I need a permission slip?”

“Might need a bodyguard.” Even with all the other smells in the bar, I pick up Owen’s scent. He’s wearing cologne, but it’s not overdone, and holy hell, it mixes well with his body chemistry. Yumminess squared.

“What could happen between here and the toilet?”

Famous last words.

In the bar patron’s defense, he wasn’t aiming for me. He likely didn’t even see me until after he knocked me off my feet, himself a casualty of the boisterous mosh pit.

But before my ass hits the ground, inflicting any number of colorful bruises, I’m in Owen’s arms. His hands tighten around my body as he sidesteps the would-be assailant, now lying face down on the ground next to my smashed beer bottle. “What the fuck is wrong with you? She could have cracked her head against the bar.”

The man staggers to his feet, muttering an apology as the blood drips from his mouth and nose. “I didn’t see her.”

“Pinch your nose and hold your head back,” I order from my perch in Owen’s arms. Catching my savior’s inquisitive look, I shrug. “I’m a nurse. I think he broke his nose.”

“Likely cracked a few teeth, too. Either way, he’s not my problem. I’m just glad you’re not hurt.”

My face splits into a grin at his concern. “We can now add hero to your resume.”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far.”

Even though the danger is long past, Owen is still holding me, and my body is awash with handy-dandy sensations. Everywhere his fingers touch me, rivulets of heat flow into my body, and my core temperature is nearing nuclear levels.

A meltdown is imminent.

Finally, finding my voice—and my snarky facade—I push my glasses up with one hand and point to the ground with the other. “Not that I don’t appreciate the view from way up here, but can you put me down? I must be getting heavy.”

It’s a cue to set me back on my feet, but Owen ignores the hint. Instead, he tightens his grip, his fingers tracing ever so softly along my body. The man knows exactly what he’s doing to me, and he’s enjoying every second. “You’re tiny, so holding you is not an issue. Besides, I’m not quite ready to let you go, Tally.”

A shiver rushes up my spine. I like the way my name sounds dripping off his tongue. Actually, I like everything about Owen’s mouth. Focus, damn it. “Do I get a say in this decision?”

With a chuckle, Owen sets me back to rights, and I’m loath to admit I miss the warmth of his skin. “Although you’d sooner die than admit it, I think you enjoyed every second in my arms.”

Cocky bastard. Accurate, but cocky as hell. I plant my hands on my hips, a vision of righteous indignation. Or so I tell myself. “Is that what you think? You know what I think?”

“Tallulah, I get the impression you think way too much. You’ve been doing nothing but thinking since your friend showed up in the balcony.” He plops down on a bar stool, offering me a dimpled smile beneath the coiffed beard.

“You two seem to hit it off,” I argue, hating that he can see right through my front.

His brows raise as he chuckles, accepting a fresh beer from Dan. “I think we hit it off, Tally.”

“Obviously. You need me. I own the balcony.”

“Part owner.”

“No, that’s a one-night deal. You did not swear on a goat.”

“I’ll bring one the next time.” His fingers slide along my jaw, such an intimate gesture from an almost stranger. “Glad to see you back.”

Before I can retort, Stefani, ever the concerned friend, cuts into the moment. Again. Judging by her dilated pupils, the alcohol has finally made its mark. “Lu, are you okay? I saw that moron slam into you.”

“Almost slam. But I’m right as rain, thanks to this big lug here.” I smile up at Owen, giving him a light punch in the bicep. “He’s my new bodyguard.”

“The guy bled the entire way outside. I think he broke his nose,” Stefani adds, motioning to the door.

“Are you a nurse, too?” Owen inquires.

“Yep. Lu and I work together. She’s technically my boss.” She flashes Owen a sultry smile. “What do you do, besides saving damsels in distress?”

“I’m not exactly a damsel in distress,” I mutter, but my friend only has ears—and eyes—for Owen.

“I’m in between jobs at the moment,” Owen states, taking another swig of his beer.

I clear my throat and glance away. Well, that’s what’s wrong with him—he’s unemployed and likely broke.

Owen must be a mind reader. “That sounded terrible, didn’t it? I’m not some vagrant. I just moved here from San Francisco, sewing up some loose ends with work.”

Whew. Thank God. 

“Big move,” I comment, my gaze traveling up his body. It’s funny. Owen is over a foot taller and likely a hundred pounds heavier than me, but all I feel is safe around him.

Owen guffaws, nodding in agreement. “That’s an understatement.”

“How do you like Florida?” Stefani presses, her words becoming progressively more slurred.

“I love the ocean, but it’s hot as hell down here. I’m still looking for a place.” The smile falls from his face, replaced with a look of concern. “Stefani, are you alright?”

Lovely, my friend is green about the gills. “Time for some fresh air, beautiful.”

I offer Stefani my arm, but Owen stops me. “Remember what happened last time, Rocky? I’ll take her outside. We’ll be right back.” With his hand on her lower back, they disappear into the crowd.

I bet money they won’t return.

“Is she going to hurl?” Dan questions, nodding in their direction.

“Probably. Owen went with her, so I guess he’ll take care of her.” I bite my lip, swallowing back my disappointment. Over the years, Stefani has had her pick of all the eligible men that floated our way, and I never begrudged her one. This is the first time I’ve wanted to keep the man all for myself. And maybe, just maybe, Owen feels nothing for Stefani beyond sober concern.

“Stefani doesn’t feel like coming back inside,” Owen states to my left, making me jump. For such a Goliath, the man sure is nimble.

“That’s my cue. Hey Dan, what do I owe you?” I ask, pulling out my wallet.

Owen places his hand over mine. “I’m going to take her home.”

Well, fuck my life. So much for the sober concern theory. “You don’t have to do that—”

“She asked if I would. She said that you love this band, and didn’t want to ruin your evening.”

Quite the stench coming off that load of crap.

Stefani ruined my night when she set her sights on Owen. There’s no salvaging it now. Besides, I’m not one to get into a catfight over a man. Particularly not when I’m certain to lose.

I huff out a sigh and force a grin. “Are you okay to drive?”

He nods, that dimpled smile once again upending my ability to think. “I’m fine.”

“Okay. Get home safe.”

“No deal. You may like this band, but I came in to get you. I’m giving you a ride home, too.”

Nothing beats being a third wheel. “I have my car. But I appreciate you getting Stefani home safely.”

That is Owen’s cue to leave. I’ve offered the white flag of surrender. He’s free to go.

Only he doesn’t. “I don’t want to leave you here alone.”

Ah, there’s the sober concern. “I’ll be fine. Wicked Chucks is my second home. Besides, Dan will keep an eye on me.”

My bartender buddy nods. “Always. She’s safe with me.”

“Are you sure?” Owen presses, his hand rubbing my back.

Of nothing. “I’m positive. Thank you for the offer. It was nice meeting you.”

He leans in, his breath hot against my ear. “I need your number, Tally.”

“My number? Oh, sure, in case something happens.”

Owen pulls out his phone, a lopsided grin decorating his face. “I need it for tomorrow night, Darlin.”

For a second, my mind blanks, and then I remember. The Hedgecore concert. “I can meet you here if that’s easier.”

“It’s not easier. Do you not want to give me your number?”

I chuckle and rattle off the digits. I’m being silly. It makes sense that Owen needs my number. What if he decides he’d rather take a tall, willowy blonde to the show? “I’m really looking forward to seeing Hedgecore. Thank you.” I stand up, holding out my arms for a hug.

Hey, friends hug.

Owen pulls me against him, but in an unexpected move, he tips up my chin, pressing his lips against mine. It’s short and sweet and yet lights up every nerve ending in my body. “I’m really looking forward to seeing you. Goodnight, Tally.”

I watch him leave before spinning around to face Dan, releasing a loud groan as I settle my head on the bar.

“What’s your issue?”

“Another one bites the dust,” I mutter from the cocoon of my hands.

“He seems interested.”

“Yeah, in Stefani. He’s driving her home, remember?”

Dan knocks the bar in front of me, making me raise my head to meet his gaze. “Tallulah, he’s interested in you. In fact, he was blatantly obvious about it.”

“Just because a man is friendly doesn’t mean he’s interested.”

Dan shrugs, shaking his head. “Maybe not, but uninterested men generally don’t offer up a ticket to a sold-out concert, either.”

“He left with Stefani. Trust me, there’s no way they’re not screwing tonight.”

“Whatever you say, Lu. I think this guy might surprise you.” He motions to my head. “Enough of the Strawberry Shortcake. Lose the pink.”

I smirk at Dan as I slide off the wig, letting my dark hair cascade down my back. “Better?”

“Much. I prefer you natural. You want another drink?”

I shake my head. What I want is Owen in my bed, but that’s not happening. “I have to get home. Hecate is waiting.”

“She is the coolest cat in the world.”

“You know it.” I stand up, giving Dan a kiss over the bar. “Thanks for being my ride or die.”

Dan ruffles my hair. “I have a feeling I’m going to be replaced soon.”

“Dream on,” I mutter, giving a wave as I walk out the door, but I can’t help but hope that my buddy is right.