Summary: A sudden change in plans leaves Allie and Owen spending the day together.
Note: This is set between Rewrite the Ending and Not a Goodbye, before Allie returns to New York.
Mel’s shout startles Allie out of her early morning stupor and nearly makes her spill what’s left of her coffee. Just as she asks what’s wrong, Mel comes out of her room, muttering a string of colorful curses and angrily jabbing at her phone.
“This idiot client,” she fumes, “has decided to make a ton of last minute changes. I’m going to be stuck here all day.”
“Shit!” she says, whipping around to look at Allie. “We were going to go to the beach today.”
“Mel, it’s fine. It’s the beach. It’ll still be there tomorrow,” Allie points out, refilling her coffee cup.
“Shrinking coastline, Al. We’re also prone to earthquakes. Wait! Owen has the day off.”
She’s calling Owen before Allie can protest that he probably wants a break from entertaining her.
“Can you meet him at the gym?” Mel asks, tilting the phone away.
“Mel, seriously,” Allie protests. “It’s fine. We can go tomorrow.”
“She’ll meet you at the gym,” Mel says into the phone, then hangs up.
Allie glares at her pointedly. “Melanie.”
“What? He likes the beach, and we were going to go anyway.”
“That’s not the point,” Allie says, frowning. “He has a life. I can find something else to do.”
Mel grabs her laptop and a cup of coffee. “Trust me, he doesn’t mind. He likes you.”
That gives her pause. As much as Allie likes him too, she worries about sending him the wrong message. Mel senses her hesitation.
“No, not like that,” she says hurriedly. “I mean, maybe like that? I just meant that he’s told me he likes hanging out with you.”
“Mel-“ Allie begins.
“Allie, I promise. Owen isn’t a dick. He’s not going to make a move or be weird.”
She knows that, Allie goes to protest again. Her phone buzzes, and by the time she opens it up to read the text, Mel is on the phone and in her room.
Maybe, Allie tells herself, she’s overthinking this. It’s just the beach. Mel has been horrified that Allie has been there for seven whole days and still hasn’t been. It’s not like it’s dinner or a movie. She can handle going to the beach with him.
The text is from Owen, giving her the address to his gym.
Meet me in 30? he asks.
You don’t have to do this, she sends back. Mel is being dramatic. I’ll survive waiting another day to go to the beach.
I really don’t mind. I haven’t been lately anyway.
He’s been so nice that Allie is pretty sure he wouldn’t say anything even if he didn’t want to go. She sighs.
If you’re sure. See you in 30.
Owen isn’t outside the gym when she arrives, so she heads in. She hears him call her name, and she knows she stares at him for just a second too long when she turns around. She’s certainly not oblivious to the fact that he’s good looking and in great shape, but watching him finish working out and head over to her with a smile on his face really hammers it in.
“Just let me shower quick and I’m ready,” he says.
He zips in and out of traffic with ease as they settle into comfortable conversation. Owen asks her about New York and how she liked working in a bar (“let’s just say I don’t miss it,” Allie laughs), and she asks him about growing up in Chicago.
“I still can’t believe you hate winter,” Allie says, shaking her head.
Owen points at the beach in front of them as he parks.
“Why would I ever want snow and ice when I can have this?”
They climb out of his Jeep and Allie grabs her bag.
“I haven’t been to Chicago in a while, but I’m fairly certain it has a beach,” Allie teases him.
“Not one I’d go to in the winter,” he teases back.
They find an empty spot on the beach and spread their towels out. It’s a nice day, warm but not scorching, and the beach isn’t terribly crowded. Allie inhales the salty air, then strips down to her bathing suit. She feels Owen watch her for just a second before he looks away and kicks his shoes off. Allie tries to ignore the way his quick gaze makes goosebumps erupt across her skin.
It’s nothing, she tells herself. Of course, she stares at him too long again while he’s taking his shirt off, and he catches her. She can feel her cheeks burning when she quickly looks away, but when she finally glances back up, his cheeks are a little pink too.
“Sunscreen?” Owen offers, handing her the bottle.
“Yes, thank you.”
She’s never going to be able to reach her back, and silently curses Mel for insisting she go to the beach with him.
“Oh, stop,” she can just imagine Mel saying. “How many times have you been to the beach and had someone help you put sunscreen on?”
“Want help?” Owen offers, and Allie tells herself to stop being so ridiculous.
“Please.”
His hands are strong and warm as they glide over her skin, the muscles of his back solid under her fingers when she offers to help him too. She has to admit it’s nice, lying on the beach with the sun warming her skin, the sound of the waves lulling her into a relaxed state.
“Okay,” she mumbles, shifting to get more comfortable. “I can see the appeal of this.”
Owen laughs next to her. “That’s good to hear.”
Allie falls asleep accidentally, waking when a persistent seagull screeches above her. She props herself up on her elbows and sees Owen heading back to their towels from the water. He grins when he reaches her.
“Have a good nap?” he asks.
“I can’t believe I fell asleep,” she says.
“I’m a little concerned I bore you. This is the second time you’ve fallen asleep on me.”
His tone is amused and gently teasing.
“I have weird sleep habits,” she explains. “And I think the time zone change is still throwing me off.”
“I much prefer that reason to me being boring,” he says, grabbing his towel and drying off.
Allie smiles, then quickly glances away. “You’re not boring.”
It’s quiet for a moment, a strangely comfortable silence, before Owen asks her if she’s her hungry.
“There’s a really good food truck nearby.”
“I could eat,” she agrees. “Coffee probably wasn’t the best breakfast.”
They gather their bags, then rinse off under the outdoor showers and get dressed. Allie feels her stomach flutter, just for a second, when Owen reaches out and brushes his fingers over the side of her face.
“Sand,” he says with a soft smile.
“Oh. Thanks.”
“So, has anyone told you that you have a coffee problem before?” Owen asks as they walk, a humorous glint in his eye.
Allie laughs. “Yes. My mom has. And Mel, but she inhales Diet Coke, so she can’t really say much. My dad is just as bad as I am,” Allie explains.
Owen looks at her curiously as they walk. “Is your family close?”
“Not really,” she admits. “My dad and I are closer, but my mom and I never were.”
“I’m sorry,” he says sincerely, and she’s surprised to find that instead of dismissing it like she usually does, she appreciates his words.
“It’s okay,” she says. “We’re so different, it’s not surprising.”
The food truck is busy, but they manage to find a small table to sit at. She likes talking to him, a lot. They talk about how they each met Mel, and Owen laughs at how horrified Allie’s mother had been upon meeting her decidedly not prim and proper college roommate.
The air cools as they talk, until she nearly shivers, and Owen asks if she’s ready to go.
No, her brain whispers.
“Yeah,” is what she actually says. “Mel wants to take me out to her favorite bar tonight.”
Owen groans, and then laughs. “Prepare yourself, Allie.”
“Why?”
“Just trust me,” he says as they take off.
When they get to Mel’s and he parks, Owen turns to her and asks what she’s doing the next night.
“Nothing, I don’t think,” she says after a beat. “Why?”
“There’s a comedy club that does open mic night tomorrow. You should come.”
“You do comedy?” she asks curiously, and Owen starts laughing.
“God, no. No one wants to see that, trust me. A coworker of mine does. There’s a group of us that go,” he explains.
He must sense her hesitation, because he smiles and says, “You don’t have to. I just thought it would be something fun. Mindless.”
Actually, that does sound appealing. “I’d like that,” she says. “I just feel bad. You keep getting dumped with entertainment duty.”
He shakes his head, grabbing her bag from the back. “I told you. It’s not a chore, I promise. I like spending time with you.”
He’s said it before, but the words seem to hold more weight somehow, this time. Allie gets out, shutting the door behind her.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Owen says. “Oh. Don’t let Mel talk you into drinking the special at this place.”
He shudders, just barely. “Trust me.”
Allie laughs. “Thanks for the advice. And…for today. It was fun.”
“It was,” he agrees, smiling warmly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Allie.”
Before she can stop herself, or question it, or overthink things yet again, Allie realizes she can’t wait to see him.