Chapter 11

Molly

“Last one?” Owen asks as I close the door to the kennel and stick my fingers through the grid to scratch the weary head of the sick kitten someone found on the street earlier.

“Last one,” I verify.

“Did you turn off the open sign?”

Turning back, I find my boss leaning against the doorframe with his arms casually crossed over his chest.

“Yep.”

“Ready for our date?”

Smiling in his direction, I let a coy smile play on my lips. “You said yesterday that it was only dinner, that it’s not a date.”

“It doesn’t have to be a date, but—”

His head cocks to the side as the smile I’ve already grown accustomed to after only two days of working here lights his face up.

“But what?”

“It’s Friday, it’s evening time, and it’s only going to be the two of us.” He ticks each thing off of his fingers.

“Seems pretty date-like, if you ask me.”

“Would it be such a bad thing if it was?”

“Well.” I hold up my hand just like he did a second ago. “You’re handsome, you’re nice, and you haven’t looked at my tits one time since you met me.”

As if drawn by my words, his eyes dip slightly before they snap back up to meet mine.

His throat works on a swallow in the same shy way it does each time I act a little more forward than I presume he’s used to.

“I don’t date,” he randomly spews.

“Really?” He’s honestly too handsome to be single, but his lack of female interest is my gain.

Honestly, I see him as more of a friend. My heart just isn’t ready to open back up for anyone or anything right now, but staying home crying into my pillow at night only gives me a headache and puffy eyes in the morning. It doesn’t resolve a damn thing, and I’m tired of torturing myself.

“I mean, I went on a few dates in college, but haven’t even worried about looking since I came back home to take over the clinic for Dr. Prescott.”

“So, you have like a fuck-buddy or something?”

His eyes widen as my hand slaps over my mouth. It’s not the first time in the last forty-eight hours that something like that slipped from my lips. The question wouldn’t even cause someone to blink an eye back at the clubhouse, but I’ve been distanced from society too long it seems. My tact for appropriate conversation in mixed company could use some serious work.

“I don’t… you know—” He circles his hand in a circle in the vicinity of his crotch.

Confused, I just stare at him. “You don’t have a fuck-buddy?”

Jesus, why did I repeat myself?

“Sex,” he clarifies with another rough swallow. “I don’t…I mean I haven’t… done that.”

“Are you serious?”

I’m met with several slow blinks before he answers. “Is that a deal-breaker? I mean, you wouldn’t be the first girl to walk away after finding out. I usually at least get halfway through dinner before that topic comes up in conversation, however.”

I must look like a tarsier monkey with wide, unblinking eyes as I just stare at him in shock. How the hell do I go from Briar with his decade-long celibacy and millions of secrets, to the super-hot, yet untouched veterinarian who just laid his business at my feet like it’s normal for a thirty one year old man to not get laid. I almost ask him if Briar put him up to this, or if someone else from the MC threatened him if he even thought about touching me.

“If you want to cancel our non-date, I’ll understand. I promise it won’t make things weird in the office.”

“A virgin?” I clarify.

“Yep.”

“Are you,” my eyes drift to the front of his slacks before rising back to meet his, “is there something wrong with your… um… penis?”

His laugh belts out as his head begins to shake. If the smile on his face is any indication, he’s not offended by my brazen question.

“My penis is fine, I assure you.” He shifts on his feet, clearly uncomfortable when he notices my eyes shifting from his face to his crotch.

I now understand the guys in school who were fascinated with the girls who made it to their senior year still virgins. I’m almost as tempted as they were to try to seduce that gift from him, which makes me realize I’m the biggest asshole in the world.

“Do you want to cancel?” he asks again.

“No,” I answer honestly when I see disappointment beginning to creep up on his face, knowing I had that same look in my eyes when Adler Seymour dumped me junior year because I wouldn’t spread my legs for him. “I just need to get changed. Don’t want to go to dinner in my scrubs.”

“Come upstairs with me. You can change up there.” He holds out his hand for me to take.

“Upstairs?”

“I live on the second floor. Didn’t you know that?”

“No.” I glance from his hand to the narrow staircase I’d always assumed led to a supply area.

“I have to grab a quick shower.” My eyes widen at the implication. “You can change in the spare bedroom. It’s more comfortable up there.”

“I…ugh… I think I’ll just change down here.”

“You sure?”

“One hundred percent,” I assure him.

“Okay.” He walks to the staircase but looks over his shoulder at me like he thinks I’m going to bolt for the door the second he walks away. “Be back in about fifteen minutes.”

I change quickly in the employee restroom at the back of the office before making my way to the front again to wait for Owen.

“You’re still here,” Owen says less than ten minutes later as he practically slides into the room with panting breaths.

Tilting my head to the side, I give him a quick grin. “Of course, I am. We have a date to get to, right?”

“Right.” He holds the crook of his elbow out as he approaches me, and I slide my arm into the bend.

Like a gentleman I’ve only seen in romantic movies, he escorts me to his car, opening the passenger door for me and closing it softly when I’m situated inside.

I ignore the feel of protective eyes on me as he settles in his seat and backs out of the parking lot in front of the clinic. I don’t let my gaze wander to the dark pickup truck that has been parked across the street, idling with its lights off since I turned the open sign off earlier.

“So, are we going to talk about it?” I ask once we’re at a cruising speed heading toward Worcester. There isn’t much to choose from in Sutton.

“About what?” he hedges with a smirk on his lips. The glow from his dash lights sparkles in his eyes.

“Okay,” I say with an over-exaggerated sigh. “If you don’t tell me why you’re still a virgin, I won’t tell you why I still am either.”

The car swerves, right then left, before Owen gets it back under control.

“You’re still a virgin?”

“I’m sort of offended by the surprise in your voice, Dr. Andrews.” My words don’t match the twitch in my nose as I try not to laugh. “I’m an eighteen year old woman with overprotective brothers. You’re over thirty and a man. I think your v-status is more unusual than mine.”

“You’re making it out to be more than it is,” he answers without actually answering.

“So, no deformities, no secrets lurking in your past?” He shakes his head. “Were you raised in a religious cult?”

He laughs out loud this time and shakes his head. “No cults.”

“The sooner we get this out on the table, the sooner we can get to more appropriate first date conversations.”

“You’re the one who keeps bringing it up. It seems to bother you more than it does me.”

I don’t know how to feel about that. “I’m not bothered,” I clarify. “I’m just curious.”

Silence fills the air around us, but he speaks before it gets too heavy.

“It just never felt right, I guess. The one girl I got close enough to in college to consider going that far with decided I was taking too long. I caught her with my roommate.” He shrugs. “After that, I just figured it caused more problems than it was worth.”

“My brother’s best friend is celibate.” Why in the hell did I just blurt that out?

“Do you tease him, too?”

I snort a laugh before I can stop myself.

“No,” I answer. “I’ve known him for most of my life, and I still don’t know why he made his choice.”

“Kind of an awkward conversation to have with your brother’s friend, isn’t it?”

“You have no idea,” I mutter as we pull up outside a restaurant I’ve never been to.

Since I don’t know what first date protocol is, I wait inside the car, planning to see what his next move is.

“Do you like sushi?” Owen asks as he leans closer to look out my window at the neon sign.

“I guess we’ll find out,” I tell him with a bright smile.

He climbs out quickly, making his way around the front of the car, and opening my door for me. I take his hand as he helps me from the car. It’s a very sweet gesture, but completely different from what I’m used to. I’m not even certain I like being doted on, but one thing I do know is Owen Andrews is one hell of a catch. Even if I’m not the one, he’s going to make someone incredibly happy in life.