“I’m here now,” Owen says from behind me, the outside of his boots already a darkened brown from the water. “Pack a bag and you can crash at my place.”
I shake my head, ready to protest. “Owen, I can’t do that. I’ve already put you out enough, forcing you to drop your plans to help me. God, this is all so fucked.”
“Lottie…” His softened voice catches me off guard. I turn, finally meeting his eyes. “It’s okay to need someone else. I know you hate being helpless, and trust me when I say you’re probably the least helpless person I’ve met. But you can’t stay here tonight, and Stana and Ali are probably already asleep. We all know they’re a hundred at heart.”
I can’t help but let a small laugh sneak through my lips. Stana and Ali are homebodies, that’s for sure.
Owen smiles at me, warmth radiating off every ounce of him, and as much as I’d like to say “fuck this” and attempt to handle it myself, I realize the adult thing to do in this situation is ask for help.
So instead of fighting him, I nod, then dart back to my room to collect a few things I’ll need for tonight. I see him on the phone when I come out, and he quickly says his goodbyes before we exit my flat.
I continue on with my silence, my mind unable to avoid the meaning behind me calling him tonight. I really could have called anyone else, but I chose not to. And I’m scared the longer I avoid being honest with Owen and myself, the worse any potential heartbreak could be between us.
Without asking, Owen takes my bag from my shoulder and slings it over his own. His tall frame mixed with the streetlamps casts a shadow against the dimly lit Notting Hill streets. My body warms from how comfortable and familiar being around him feels.
It’s not till we’re in the cab that I finally break the silence, somehow feeling as if the darkness will protect me.
My voice blends into the dullness of the radio, Moby’s “Porcelain” our background noise. “I do like doing things on my own, Owen. But I’m also not too prideful to know when to say thank you. So, thank you. I really don’t know what I would have done without you tonight.”
Owen’s hand comes to rest atop my own, giving me his version of comfort. “That’s what friends are for, Lottie.”
“You know, you didn’t have to kick Reeve out.” I attempt to keep a firm voice, but I can’t really be mad at him. I look around his apartment, attempting to take it all in. It really is a mix of Reeve and Owen. There is a sterile aspect to it that I attribute to Reeve, very minimalist, while the wall has a few movie posters, one being Wedding Crashers with The Godfather posted right next to it.
“What’s so funny?” Owen comes up beside me, handing me a water while he has a beer. That’s one thing I appreciate about him; he doesn’t treat me with kid gloves, apologizing that I can’t drink and refusing to himself. I think he learned early on that would drive me mental.
“Your posters, they’re kinda polar opposites, don’t you think?”
He looks at the wall, his brow furrowed. “Nope.”
“You’re telling me, someone who doesn’t even know film, that Wedding Crashers and The Godfather are on the same level?”
“Vince Vaughn and Owen Wilson are a masterful comedic duo.”
Not able to hold it in any longer, I burst out laughing. “I’m actually not even a little bit surprised you like them. What I am surprised about is that Reeve let you put them up.”
“It was a hard sell, but I managed.” He grins, motioning toward the couch. I walk over with him, still finding joy in Owen’s ability to positively look at life. He doesn’t give a shit if someone will judge him, and I fucking love that.
Okay, Lottie, slow your roll.
I sit down on his black couch, placing my water on the empty coffee table. Both definitely a Reeve contribution.
“You think something’s going on between Reeve and Emilia?” His question catches me off guard, especially his willingness to talk about his best friend with me.
“Um…” I laugh, unsure how to respond. “I never took you as one for a gossip session, puppy.” I relax into his couch, my body sinking into all the right parts. It feels like a fucking cloud. Jesus, I could stay here all day.
Owen launches himself onto the other end, then moves his body until he’s comfortable. He brings his beer up to his lips and takes a sip.
God, I wish I could have one of those.
“Oh, come on, Lottie. Don’t play all innocent with me. I know how you operate.”
I raise my eyebrows. “What’s that supposed to mean?” My voice is playful, because Lord knows I’m anything but innocent. I think back to everything I did to Beck post breakup. Yep, not innocent, but it was certainly deserved on his part.
“Okay, maybe I’m not a poster child for good behavior, but I don’t really think I’m in a position to be questioning anyone else keeping secrets right now. I mean…” I motion to my stomach, and Owen nods in agreement.
“It’s not like I’m talking to a stranger; you’re in our group now. Emilia’s one of your best friends, Reeve’s mine—hell, both of them are like family to me. Don’t tell me curiosity hasn’t gotten the best of you sometimes.”
I purse my lips, figuring if there is anyone I can talk about shit with, it’s Owen. He’s loyal, definitely wouldn’t tell anyone.
“Okay, I don’t know anything, but yeah, I’ve questioned it. But Reeve is so silent and stoic, it’s hard to know what the hell he’s about all the time.”
“That’s just Reeve,” Owen cuts in. “He’s actually pretty chill when you
