“Oh.” A shiver ran through me. I was in a situation where I’d really have to take charge and speak my mind. I needed more time to figure things out, especially why I was so angry.
“I’m going to take the bus home. I’ll text you on Monday.”
Turning away, I didn’t dare look back, for fear that one glance at those eyes and I’d change my mind.
On the bus ride, I tried to figure out why I was so afraid of showing him I was angry, but still couldn’t make sense of it. My shoulders were tightened, and my eyes kept flicking to my phone, but he didn’t text.
How could I wish that he was perfect when I didn’t know what that meant? I couldn’t even make up my mind about whether I was ready to speak with him.
***
The next afternoon there was a knock at the door while I was washing dishes.
“Just a minute,” I called out, drying my hands. Looking out through the peephole, I expected a neighbor’s kid selling cookies, not Owen with a bouquet of flowers.
My hand paused on the doorknob. Oddly, instead of being upset that he didn’t wait until Monday, I was glad. It felt like he really wanted me. He had given me an evening of space instead of the entire weekend. Was that a reasonable compromise?
I let him in, accepting the flowers with a smile, and setting the vase on the counter as he slipped his shoes off.
It wasn’t until we were seated on my couch that I felt ready to speak.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t wait two more days to talk to you. You can tell me anything, sweetheart,” Owen said gently, facing me so that our knees touched, but giving me some space. “I’m so sorry that Joe was an asshole to you. For what it’s worth, I informed him of how unprofessional he was as I was telling him off.”
Shaking my head, I stared down at the dark blue and green textured fabric of the couch, trying to figure out why I was so irritated.
“Are you angry with me?” he asked softly.
My chin tipped up and down before I could stop it.
“Can you tell me why?” Owen asked, leaning back as if he was prepared to sit here all night if necessary.
He was so patient. So understanding.
I honestly couldn’t believe that he was so calm after I’d been blowing him off for days while I tried and failed to sort out what the heck I was feeling.
“You’re too much,” I blurted without thinking. “Too perfect.”
He nodded, waiting for more.
“It’s totally insane that you’d quit your job on a moment’s notice, and if you did that for me, I don’t know what to think about that,” I babbled, my voice rising. “I don’t want to be one of those girls you chase, and I don’t want to mess up your career. I wanted to date you, but it was suddenly a real relationship. I can’t tell you that if we’re already in love. Things are happening way too fast, and I wanted everything to be perfect and it isn’t, and now I don’t know what to do.”
I’d never spoken to anyone that loudly in my life, and felt a bit queasy.
Owen simply nodded, then held out his hand to me, smiling slightly when I took it. “Sweetheart, I love that you just yelled at me.”
I nearly rolled my eyes until I saw that he was dead serious. His thumb rubbed lightly over my skin as he stared at our hands.
“Brynn, remember how we were talking about the bright shiny hit song that sold the record, but the b-side was often quirky, with a lot more soul?”
“Yes.”
“I want us to be both, sweetheart.”
Owen looked up at me with absolute adoration shining in his eyes. “We fell in love too fast, and it was too convenient. But now that you’re able to tell me what you’re thinking, we’re going to be filled with so much more. Don’t you think?”
Blinking through a sudden wave of tears, I realized that he really was okay with me speaking my mind, no matter what it was.
“Did you quit your job for me?”