Summary: Allie visits Owen in L.A., a first date, and more emotions come into play.
Note: Set after Not a Goodbye.
Allie starts to understand why Owen doesn’t like winter when her flight is repeatedly delayed because of the snow. She’s flown enough times that she’s used to delays, but this time, she’s impatient. The flight gets pushed back thirty minutes, then an hour, then two hours.
I don’t like winter right now, she texts Owen.
Another delay? he asks.
Yes. I’m sorry.
Not your fault. It’s winter’s fault.
I know. But it’s still annoying.
He calls her a little later, and she’s happy to be able to tell him she’ll be on the plane within the hour. It puts her into LAX incredibly late, so she tells him she can get a cab to her hotel.
“I can still pick you up,” he says. “I want to.”
“Are you sure? Don’t you work tomorrow?”
“Positive. And I do, but I’m working a shorter day,” he reassures her.
She likes the idea of not having to wait until the day next to see him. Calls and texts and FaceTime, as wonderful as they are, just aren’t the same as being right next to him.
“Okay. I’ll see you soon,” she murmurs into the phone.
“See you soon, Al,” he says warmly.
~~~~~~~~~~
She’s had too much coffee to sleep on the plane, so the flight seems to take forever.
Just landed, she sends to Owen when the plane rolls up to the gate.
He meets her at the baggage claim, and oh, how her heart starts racing and she starts smiling when she sees him. Allie lets go of her suitcase handle as he wraps her up in a hug, closing her eyes and looping her arms around his neck.
“Hi,” he murmurs, squeezing her tightly.
“Hi.”
“How was your flight?”
“Long,” she says honestly, and his chest rumbles as he laughs.
“You ready?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
She follows him outside, and as the road rolls beneath them, the fatigue from sitting in an airport and then on a plane hits her all at once. Allie wakes when Owen nudges her gently, and the bright lights of the hotel sign greet her. He grins at her, raising his eyebrows, and Allie laughs through a yawn.
“I know, I know,” she says. “I fell asleep on you again.”
“Seriously, Allie. I’m a little worried,” he teases her, grabbing her bag and walking into the hotel with her.
Allie checks in, and Owen walks her up to her room.
“You can’t really think you bore me. I just flew across the country to see you,” she reminds him.
“I’m really, really glad you did,” he says, and Allie sighs as he tilts his head down and presses his lips to hers.
She doesn’t know how it’s possible to miss kissing someone after only one time, but she has. She’s thought about kissing him so many times between New York and now. She doesn’t want him to stop.
Allie likes the feel of his hands holding her hips, likes the unhurried way he kisses her, like they have all the time in the world. She likes finally being able to wrap her arms around him again and feel his solid warmth against her.
“Mm,” she murmurs when they finally pull apart and she opens her eyes.
Owen slowly runs his hands up and down her sides, a smile playing over his lips.
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Allie confesses.
“I have too.”
He kisses her again, slowly, softly, and then reluctantly says, “I should get going. I’ll be done with work by two tomorrow though.”
“What do you want to do?” she asks.
“I want to take you out,” Owen says.
“Like on a date?” Allie asks, hoping her casual tone hides her sudden nervousness.
“Like on a date,” he repeats slowly.
He sounds worried she’ll tell him no.
“Like a real, actual, first date,” she clarifies.
Owen laughs a little. “Yes, Allie, like a real, actual, first date.”
“…okay,” she says.
He smiles, touching the back of her hand. “Okay.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Oh sure, Mel teases her the next day. When I say you guys are going on a date, you protest and insist it isn’t. But when Owen says it’s a first date, it’s fine.
Allie wakes up early, considering what time she went to bed, and walks down the block to a coffee shop. Owen texts her while she’s there.
Does 6 sound good?
6 is great. Want me to meet you?
Allie. This is a first date. I’m picking you up. Dressing nicely. Opening doors for you.
She hides a smile behind her coffee cup at his message. She feels a little less nervous, and teasingly texts him back, And here I was, hoping you’d be late and forget your wallet.
She laughs when he replies, Maybe for the next date, if this one is awful.
~~~~~~~~~~
Owen knocks on her door promptly at six. Allie is ready. She’s wearing one of her favorite dresses and heels. Her hair is pulled back in a sleek ponytail, and she’s spritzed on her favorite perfume. Her clutch is on the counter.
You will not be a nervous wreck, she sternly lectures herself.
And then she opens the door, and freezes.
“Hi,” Owen greets her.
“Hi,” she finally says, stepping aside and letting him in when he shifts his weight and smiles at her.
He’s in black dress pants and a white button down, the top button casually undone. He’s wearing glasses, which she’s never seen him in before, and holding a bouquet of roses. He smells good. Her nerves come back full force, especially with the soft way he looks at her and tells her how beautiful she is.
Owen sets the flowers down on the dresser and takes her hands. “Hey,” he murmurs softly.
Allie swallows and looks up at him.
“Are you nervous?” he asks her gently.
“A little,” she admits.
“Me too,” he says.
“You are?”
It surprises her. Every time she’s seen him or talked to him before this, he’s always been so relaxed and at ease.
“I am,” he says.
That calms her, and she can feel her muscles relax.
“Don’t be nervous,” Owen says reassuringly. “It’s just me, Al.”
She exhales slowly. “I know.”
She relaxes more when they walk to his Jeep and settle into easy conversation on the drive. Allie is struck, once again, by how easy it is just being with and talking to him.
“So I was planning on taking you to dinner,” Owen says as they drive. “But I realized how predictable that is.”
“I’m okay with some predictability. And dinner,” she reassures him.
“That’s good to know. And you’ll still get dinner. But I think you’ll like this more.”
He glances over at her and laughs at the expression she fails to hide. “You don’t like surprises, do you?”
“I don’t,” she confesses.
Owen covers her hand with his, squeezing warmly. “Well, I don’t want you to start this first date dreading it. We’re going to a cooking class.”
“A…cooking class?”
“Unless you completely hate the idea. I could cancel. We could always go to In-n-Out,” Owen jokes.
“Don’t you dare,” Allie laughs. “I love cooking. I can’t wait.”
“Good,” Owen says. “This place is supposed to be one of the best.”
“You realize you’re dressed in white for a cooking class though, right?” Allie asks.
Owen shrugs, smirking a little. “So are you. As long as you don’t start a food fight, I think we’ll be okay.”
She grins. “There goes my plan.”
Allie thinks it’s a good thing she’s a good cook, because watching Owen proves to be a little distracting. His fingers tickle over the back of her neck when he helps her tie her apron, and her stomach flutters every time he brushes against her. She’s flattered though, that she keeps catching him glancing at her too. This time, unlike when they went to the beach, he holds her gaze and smiles.
His forearms flex when he rolls up his sleeves, his face pinched just slightly in concentration as they work.
“I’ve never seen you in glasses before,” Allie comments, measuring out the flour.
“I wear contacts most of the time,” he explains.
“Oh. You look good in glasses. I like them,” she says without thinking, more focused on measuring ingredients.
Owen glances up, a smile playing over his lips.
“Yeah?”
She feels her cheeks turning pink, but just smiles and says, “Yeah.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, his gaze briefly growing more heated.
That gaze immediately sends thoughts and images about him and about them racing through her mind, and she’s grateful she has something else to focus on.
“I didn’t know you could cook,” Allie comments as they work.
He looks completely at ease as they prepare each dish, and he just shrugs with a little half-smile. “My mom and grandma were convinced I would starve or live off of fast food when I moved out here, so they taught me some basics.”
She teases him about homemade gnocchi and tiramisu not being basics, and he finally laughs and admits he’s taken a few cooking classes and cooks because he enjoys it.
“What?” he asks, checking the chicken, catching her staring at him again.
“Nothing,” Allie says hastily. “I’ve just never dated a guy who can cook before.”
“First time for everything,” he says, then playfully offers her a spoonful of the sauce to taste.
When they wrap up and thank the chef, Owen links his hands with hers as they walk out. She leans into him, sighing happily.
“That was possibly the best first date I’ve ever been on. Thank you,” she says.
“Me too,” he smiles. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you had fun.”
“I did. And I promise not to fall asleep this time,” Allie says, climbing into his Jeep.
Owen laughs. “I’ll believe that when I see it, Al.”
She doesn’t fall asleep though, because he covers her hand with his and runs his thumb across the back of it and she keeps thinking about inviting him up to her hotel room, and wondering how far she’s ready to take things with him. Allie takes his hand on the elevator, squeezing a little tightly, and bites her lip when they get to her room.
“I have a bottle of wine. And we still have some dessert left. Do you…want to come in?” she asks.
His eyes search hers, and she’s relieved that he sounds a little nervous when he tells her he’d love to. She’s glad it’s not just her feeling these intense emotions. She pours them both a glass of wine, acutely aware of Owen right next to her, taking out the leftover tiramisu.
Allie leaves the wine glasses on the counter when she turns around, feeling her heart pounding when Owen steps closer.
“Allie…”
“Yeah?” she whispers.
He cups her elbows, his eyes darkening when she runs her hands up his chest and lightly grips his collar.
“I’m really glad you’re here,” he murmurs, and leans down.
“Me too,” she breathes against his mouth, and then his lips crash onto hers.
She kisses him deeply, hungrily, pressing tightly against him. His hands roam up her arms and then down her back, holding her to him as he kisses her harder. He lifts her easily, and Allie takes a shaky breath when they part briefly and he sets her on the counter. His lips are feather light against her neck when he reaches behind her and moves the wine, and he groans at her quiet whimpers.
She runs her hands through his hair, closing her eyes. His lips brush over the curve of her neck and drift toward her collarbone.
“Owen,” she moans softly, wrapping her hands around his neck, her fingers digging into his skin when he teases his teeth over her.
“God, Al,” he says quietly, lifting his head back up to kiss her.
“I want…”
She can’t get the words out, wants him so badly, feels, knows, this isn’t just physical attraction and desire, but she’s still a little nervous about rushing into this and ruining it.
He kisses her, slowly, as if he can read her hesitation, and she sighs shakily.
“I want you,” she finally manages to say. “I know I’m overthinking things. I just didn’t expect…well, you, and…”
She meets his eyes, finally, and takes a deep breath.
“Hey,” he murmurs. “It’s okay.”
He tilts her chin up gently and kisses her so sweetly that she can feel tears brimming behind her eyes.
“I like you,” he says, then, after a minute, says, “A lot,” and laughs quietly, shaking his head. “I wasn’t expecting you either. But here we are.”
“Here we are,” she agrees softly. “I like being with you.”
“I like being with you too, Allie. That’s what matters, okay? We don’t have to rush into anything. I’m not going anywhere.”
She feels a lump swell in her throat at those simple words. “Okay.”
Owen steps back and helps her off the counter, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“Can I take you out again tomorrow?” he asks.
“Actually, I was thinking I could take you out,” she offers.
“What’d you have in mind?”
Oh. Right. She scrambles to come up with something. “Well…”
Owen grins. “Tell you what. How about when you’re in L.A., I’ll take you out, and when I’m in New York, you can take me out.”
Those words warm her, the gentle reassurance that he wants to come see her again, that whatever this is they’re diving into is something he wants as much as she does.
“That’s fair,” she says.
“So, will you let me take you out for breakfast tomorrow?” he asks, and she smiles when he tilts his head down and kisses her softly.
“I like breakfast.”
“So it’s only the food you’re after,” he murmurs, kissing her again.
“I like you too,” she reminds him, and his eyes crinkle when he laughs.